There is a market for everything

In Beijing there's literally a market for everything. Want a new dress? Go to the fabrics market and then to your tailor. Decorating your home? Go to the furniture or antiques market. For pearls, real or fake, visit the pearl market.

If that's not enough, you can also visit Beijing's eye glasses market, tea markets, lamp market, silk market, toy market, camera market, and bird markets. (And these are only the ones I know about.)

Each market typically consists of rows and rows of indoor stalls or small shops; all on the same theme. The advantage is that you can easily compare products and prices. The down side is that it can be quite a drive to get to the market, and it is also not that rare (at least for me) to get totally overwhelmed by the number of products and people at the market. (And that is separate from the issue of trying to find out whether or not these products are real or fake.)

Yesterday we went to the camera market to look for a new camera. Here are some pictures from the day.

Narrow hallways inside the market. Everywhere are stores with camera's and camera equipment, from the actual camera to waterproof bags, clothes, and photo albums.

A Nikon store. We believe the products are real. (The prices were real.)

A Canon store.

Which lens did you want to buy?

Some happy customers at the Nikon store.


In het nederlands: gisteren zijn we op een "fotografiemarkt" geweest. In Beijing zijn enorm veel markten. Ze zijn soms buiten, maar veelal gewoon binnen. De ene markt verkoopt bijvoorbeeld alleen maar lampen, een andere antiek, en weer andere verkopen stoffen, thee, parels, zijde, of speelgoed. Ik ga niet zo vaak naar deze markten, maar als je (ongeveer) weet wat je wil dan kan het heel handig zijn om op zo'n markt alle prijzen en produkten te vergelijken.

Hot & Sour Fish Soup Flavor

Last week I was in the supermarket, and I just had to stop and take this picture for you. It cracked me up: Lay's potato chips, Intense & Stimulating: Hot & Sour Fish Soup Flavor.

Doesn't that sound delicious?

There are actually lots of fascinating flavors for familiar foods on the shelves here. Not just for chips, but also for yoghurts (aloe-flavored yoghurt once took me by surprise), cookies, and drinks.

Here are two more examples from the Lay's potato chips family; let me know which one you'd like me to bring next time I come visit from China.

Did you want the "classic great taste," Italian red meat flavor?

Or perhaps rather the "cool & refreshing" blueberry flavor?

And believe it or not--someone has dedicated a whole blog post to Lay's potato chips in China.

In het nederlands: In de winkel kan je hier de wildste smaken kopen. Lay's is een bekend Amerikaans merk--ligt misschien in Nederland ook wel in de schappen?--en het was zo grappig om hier de smaken te zien die speciaal voor de Aziatische markt ontwikkeld zijn. Je kan in Amerika echt geen chips met vissoepsmaak vinden!

Pesticides

Today was possibly my unhealthiest day in Beijing so far. In the morning, I had already seen the signs "Keep away from the lawn-pesticide applied." It's the standard sign that's put up in the little parks in our compound when it is time--a few times a year--for some generous pesticide application.

Later in the day, I was in the park to pick Simon up from his tennis lesson, when I saw the workers just wildly waving their pesticide sprayers up in the air to cover all the trees in the tiny area. By the time I made it through the park to the tennis court, Thomas and I and everyone on the court were coughing like a few old sick men. We picked up our things and just got out of there--well, after taking a few pictures for you.

Of course it didn't help that I had just finished the book, Poorly Made in China by Paul Midler. The book gives an insider's account of what happens in the Chinese factories that make all our cheap products.

Here's an interview with the author.


What I loved about the book was that it described this wicked world inside all those factories in the South of China through the eyes of someone who clearly loves and tries to understand this country. It is just fascinating to me, how factory owners will have very different reasons for engaging in a business relationship with a U.S. company. Sure, they can deliver very cheaply, but they'll also experiment with ways to increase their profit margin (for example by substituting some ingredients of a product by inferior ones), or they'll just use one big contract with a large international company to get the right experience and access to interesting product designs, to then later use those for other markets where they can sell the same products for a higher price.

Going back to the pesticide shower then, it is one thing to breathe in pesticides, it is quite another to wonder what kind of mix of pesticides might have been used today. The official stuff--whatever it is?--or some left-over things from the back of the barn?

This kind of uncertaintly--what's on my apples? Did the water melons grown in an area with clean ground water? Is this the real Colgate toothpaste or some cheap copy of it?--comes up a million times a day.

By now, I don't think about it too much, as we've made some decisions on where and what we buy, and we also have some organic Wondermilk delivered to our house. But still, the pesticide shower today reminded me you sometimes need more than a helmet to protect yourself.

I hope I am still here tomorrow.

Best book I've read recently. You might also check out my earlier post about the toys that fall apart within a day.

Barrel of pesticides on wheels.

This cannot be healthy.

In het nederlands: "Poorly made in China," is echt een interessant boek dat ik aan kan raden als je meer wil leren over de Chinese cultuur en over hoe al die goedkope produkten allemaal gemaakt worden. Ik vind het ook vooral een mooi boek omdat de auteur duidelijk een China-liefhebber is. Hij heeft veel ervaring en heeft na al veel jaren in fabrieken in zuid-China te hebben rondgekeken toch een heel bijzonder beeld van hoe men doet en denkt. Helaas gaat mijn bericht vandaag niet alleen over een boek, maar ook over het feit dat in ons dagelijkse leven je hier toch ook wel af en toe afvraagt hoe het staat met de kwaliteit van produkten. Vandaag was dat wel heel erg, toen Thomas, Simon en ik ook nog eens per ongeluk in een wolk van bestrijdingsmiddelen terecht kwamen. Het is niet zo dat ik me hier de hele dag afvraag wat veilig is en niet, maar het is toch wel zeker anders dan in Nederland, waar je wat meer vertrouwen kan hebben in het feit dat een of andere instantie zich nog wel eens een beetje druk maakt over de zo geroemde "volksgezondheid".

Nanluoguxiang hutong

Last Friday, a friend (hi D.!) and I strolled through a lovely hutong. As you may know, hutongs are these narrow (mostly gray) streets with lots of courtyard homes. Until the arrival of high-rise apartment buildings, it was where pretty much everyone but the emperor lived.

Apparently, "[w]ith a history of more than 700 years, Nanluoguxiang is one of the capital’s oldest hutong areas and has been one of Beijing’s 25 cultural and historical protection areas since 1990." (Beijing this Month.) With Nanluoguxiang hutong in the middle, this hutong area has sixteen (eight on each side) more hutongs east and west of the main corridor.

While some of these hutongs in Beijing are still used as they have been for hundreds of years, others are demolished for new construction. Yet others--like the Nanluoguxiang hutong I visited--are renovated to become an entertainment and shopping destination.

Actually, the Black Sesame Kitchen I wrote about earlier is in this same hutong area.

The Nanluoguxiang hutong. This main street has lots of side-streets with shops, bars, and restaurants.

More of Nanluoguxiang hutong.

The accidental tourist.

Hotpot in a Japanese restaurant for lunch. I love hotpot, but I love it best when you can cook your own veggies in the broth. This one came already done, with tofu, meat, and veggies already stewing in the soup.

Hotpot and friend.

No matter where you go in Beijing, there is always a guy biking around with a truckload of stuff.

You never know what is behind the doors in a hutong. Could be a stack of paper and cardboard, kids playing, a cabbage collection, old bikes and laundry, or a fancy restaurant.

In addition to a guy on a bike, there also always are lots of people sweeping the streets. Even outside big modern office buildings, you inevitably will encounter a guy (or gal) with his or her hand-made broom.

In het nederlands: De fotos vandaag zijn van een min of meer typische hutong woonwijk in Beijing. Deze hutong, Nanluoguxiang, is opgeknapt en heeft veel leuke winkeltjes en cafeetjes. Andere hutongs zijn nog gewoon woongebied (en zien er niet altijd even schoon of idyllisch uit.) En weer andere hutongs zijn allang verdwenen en vervangen door nieuwe kantoor- en flatgebouwen. Je kan meer over hutongs lezen in dit Volkskrant artikeltje, "De Sloopwoede voorbij".

Gaokao

The last two days China's high school students have been taking their "Gaokao," the national entrance exam for college. If you can do well in this exam, you have a better chance to go to one of China's top colleges (such as Tsinghua University) or to even be able to go to college at all.

Just the thought of 9.3 million kids sweating above their test papers for two days made me nervous.

Who is apparently also nervous are the baba's and the mama's, the Chinese moms and dads. With only one child, all their eggs are in one basket. Can you imagine, 18.6 million moms and dads waiting outside for their kids to out-perform each other? Woohaa.

And while all this collective nervousness was taking place, Simon had a 'swimming party' at school and Thomas had a 'fun day' with games and water play... I do live in a parallel universe.

If you want to read more, you could read this promo piece: Gaokao Exam Acts as a Great Leveler, or go straight to this NY Times piece: China's College Entry Test is an Obsession.

In het nederlands: Het was "eindexamenweek" in China, al was het niet echt een eindexamen, maar meer een toegangsexamen voor de universiteit. Iedereen maakt dezelfde test en als je het goed doet heb je kans naar een goeie universiteit te gaan. Gaat het niet zo goed, dan ga je naar een mindere universiteit, ga je nog weer een jaartje oefenen voor de test (als je dat kan betalen), of ga je aan het werk. Twee dagen lang werden de aspirerende studenten getest. De test is niet alleen zwaar voor de studenten... maar ook voor de ouders die vaak toch wel heel veel voor hun enigskinderen over hebben gehad.

Honey, I am having a Baijiu Night...

Last night, Paul called me from Changsha in the province of Hunan just before 6:00 pm to tell me he was not sure if he would be able to call me again later that night. Why? He was having a baijiu night.

Luckily for me, baijiu is not the name of a beautiful Brazilian woman giving him a foot massage; it is the name of a Chinese distilled liquor made from sorghum or rice or some other grain. You drink it in a shot glass--or reportedly also sometimes in a wine glass--and after the appropriate toasting, "gan bei, gan bei!" ("bottoms up," or literally: "dry cup!") you down the whole thing in your empty stomach.

Drinking baijiu is a normal part of a formal Chinese business meal, the banquet. And going to a formal banquet is a normal part of Paul's working life. So there is a lot of "ganbei, ganbei" and baijiu going on in his life.

Hence, when he calls me about another baijiu night, I don't even look up. I'll just give him a wake-up call tomorrow.



In het nederlands: Het verslag vandaag gaat over baijiu, een witte likeur die hier heel veel gedronken wordt, vooral op de formele dineetjes waar Paul naar toe gaat. (Thuis heb ik dan mijn hongjiu, oftewel rode wijn.) Hier is een leuk artikel in het nederlands over baijiu: Traditionele Chinese likeur – Bai Jiu.

What looks like a chicken but does not lay eggs?

China!

Seriously. Simon recently came home with this wealth of information. Check it out yourself:



See? China looks like a chicken. Pretty funny hah? Almost as good as learning that you can easily recognize the U.S. State of Michigan because its lower peninsula looks like a mitten. Simon taught me that last year.

This is why I am sending my kids to top-notch schools. :-)

In het nederlands: Kijk naar de kaart van China: het land heeft de vorm van een kip. Dit soort wijsheden leren mijn kinderen nou op school!