Shopping...

I am not a big fan of shopping. But, this being China, with souvenirs and Christmas gifts beckoning, and the end of my trip looming, it was time to go out and get the job done. Psyched up, list and money in hand, and repeating a mantra to resolve to bargain, I entered the world of Beijing shopping.

My first stop, and I wish I'd taken photos but it was all I could handle focusing on my mission, was the Silk Market. Don't be misinformed by the name. It is a five story enclosed building crowded with stalls of shops on each floor and a fifth floor food court. In the basement are shoes, hand bags and luggage. Clothes are on the other floors and the silk fabric store is located on the fourth floor. It is like something out of a movie - if that movie took place in seedy alleys in Thailand. I felt propositioned. The phrases "Lady, lady, you want nice hand bag? Lookie, lookie. Come here, you want Gucci?" followed me as, head down, not making eye-contact, I quickly maneuvered my way through the stalls. "Lady, lady, lookie, lookie." Thing is, despite their lack of English, the young women are well schooled in how to NOT strike a bargain. I bought a pair of throw pillow cases - they sell the same few patterns everywhere making me cringe to think there is a sweat-shop somewhere mass producing them. The girl who sold them to me was smooth. When I offered a counter price she scoffed and said "What! You must be joking me. I give you good price." The game was up before it started.

Saturday morning, having survived unscathed from my evening at the Silk Market, I rose early and headed back to the Dirt Market. It didn't get above freezing that day. I cruised through the stalls hunting for my gifts. Here there is no "lookie, lookie" but there seems to be a secret to eyeing things without really eyeing them. Because once they've caught you seriously looking at something the aggressive calculator game starts. One of you punches in a number and the other counter punches. If you walk away, they grab you "what price? what price?" Practicing western guilt, I feel like I got their hopes up for something I have no intention to buy. Such was the case when I stopped to look at old man's collection of odds and ends. In a friendly way, I gave the "It's cold, isn't it?" pantomime (he spoke no English) and next thing I knew he took me into his dusty little shop, took off my gloves, put my hands on the radiator which was great for my numbed fingers, and invited me to sit down. I felt obligated to look around for something to buy. I spotted one of those bowls that you hit to make a lovely gong sound and out came the calculator. Guilt ensued, after all he was so sweet, so we bargained and I bought it. He even offered to let me stow my purchases while I shopped. Did I need this bowl? No. But the memory of that friendly little old guy, makes the purchase more worth it.

Academic Dreams

China is frequently linked with high academic performance. Guo Xin confirmed that no matter the socio-economic status of a family, great stress it put on succeeding through education. So it was that Friday afternoon, I met more of our adolescent beneficiaries who had completed their education at Dandelion and were part of the first group of unregistered students to be accepted into a public high school. It is a three year school, where the first two years are spent on academics and then in the third year the student can decide whether to work towards going to a university or start vocational training. They live at the school during the week, traveling for hours by bus every weekend back to their homes on the other side of Beijing.



We visited the students that afternoon to practice their English and show them a movie which is a huge treat. The feature DVD that day was the animated film Ratatouille (above photo: they are engrossed in the film). The students are amazing kids. They are migrant youth from all over China who glow and buzz with interest and excitement. They were so friendly and so attentive, eager to speak their very good English, express how thankful they are to be in the school and how they hope to work hard to succeed. As their class leader told me "All of our dreams are to go to University". It warms your heart and you really hope they do - though it will be a challenge given their educational background. One girl (see photo), all smiles, ran up to me when I was leaving, telling me how glad she was to meet me, that she would like to come to my home and then gave me a huge hug. If I could, I would bundle her up, take her home and see that she becomes everything she wants to be.

Non-profits in the land of profit

Another task completed during my stay was the MC orientation for our Beijing staff. Two of our four staff started in September and the third when I arrived. These three are also new to non-profit work. And as I was to learn, non-profits are a new, and sometimes hard to grasp concept in China. Aside from the nuts and bolts of the MC HQ office, I wanted to emphasize such catchy concepts as "transparency", "accountability", and "team work".





During the post-Q&A session, one of my coworkers asked what he should tell his friends when they ask him about MC. They do not understand how non-profits work. There's no profit? Well, then we must be a front for secret operations. It seems suspicious. From the discussion that followed, it appears that China is only beginning to accept the idea of "charity" work. As my colleague Guo Xin explained it to us, the west has traditionally had a religious culture to foster the ideas of "it is better to give than receive" and "give back to society" etc. China, with its Buddhist heritage and political climate, does not have that same cultural ideal. But times are changing. Ten years ago, NGO work was nearly absent but now there are large numbers of local NGOs and the presence of international ones as well - though it is very difficult to register in the country and keep a low-profile to be allowed to stay.

The Face of Mercy Corps

One of my tasks while I am at the Beijing office is to act as the token westerner for public events. When the British couple came to visit Dandelion School, I was unanimously voted the presenter. When the donor visited yesterday, Kate insisted I go along as the HQ representative. And this morning, after a miscommunication left me standing outside in the absolutely frigid cold for a half hour in front of The People's Great Hall (where the communist party meets, next to Tiananmen Square) without an invitation, I was to perform the token duty of handing the president of the Chinese Foundation for Poverty Alleviation a large sign showing how much money has been donated through MC, shake hands, be given an appreciation plaque, all the while having our picture taken.

From appearances, it seemed to be a rather important event. There were many celebrities there - the latest Chinese version of American Idol winner, several actors and some singers, as well as the treasured master calligrapher's club and some very high up government officials. During the whole handing over of the cards and accepting the plaques, Chinese march music played continually giving the atmosphere a very surreal feel. We each had corsages and upon departing were given a swag bag which contained a calendar and a men's dress shirt. Huh?? Whoever fits the shirt, it's all yours.

Moving through Beijing

Or not. Functioning in Beijing is a constant question of mobility. How does one get from point A to point B safely and efficiently? The answer is not always clear. If you get in a vehicle you are never sure whether you will arrive at your destination on time or get stuck in a crushing traffic jam. There's the subway which eventually reaches some destinations but isn't a solution to access the whole city. There's walking but you may be hoofing it for quite a distance dodging an obstacle course of people, vendors, bus stops, cars and phlegm. Or there's the bicycle, which seems like sure-fire way to learn more about that insurance phrase "death or dismemberment".

For the past week I had found the nerve to commute by bike to work. It was only half as quick as walking - which says something about the speed of bicyclists - but it was much more enjoyable. I likened it to a multi-directional game of Frogger. In addition to facing obstacles perpendicularly, people, bicycles and two, three and four wheeled motorized vehicles come at you from every possible angle and large intersections have up to 10 traffic signals to gauge. My adventures in bicycling were to be short lived because Tuesday evening, I discovered that divine intervention had decided I was pressing my luck and, to avoid injury, I could no longer tempt fate. Alas, the old bike, with two locks, was stolen from across from our office. Kate had warned me of the possibility and said I shouldn't worry about it. So, I'm off the streets and back to the sidewalk. (Photo: one of the many different styles of 3-wheeled vehicles)

Apartment in the sky

For most of my stay in Beijing, I have been residing at my colleague's apartment while she is on home and work leave in the US. In essence, I have become her, living there, using her bike and overseeing the day-to-day activities of the office. Us foreigners are easily interchangeable. (Photo: view from the apartment.)

The apartment "city" is called Stone Garden and from what I can tell is made up of about ten 25-plus story apartment buildings. There is also a nursery school, central plaza, store, snack kiosk which is also responsible for delivering water jugs, and a community center which houses a farmers market/grocery store/food court in the basement, restaurant on the main level and at least a gym on one of the upper floors. In the mornings, the older residents practice their tai chi in the plaza and at night their ballroom dance moves in the community center. Last night a group of them were outside practicing some sort of synchronized routine involving flags and a pom pom. We also have a guard house and elevator ladies. All the ladies do, from what I can tell, is memorize where every single resident in their building lives and press the floor button and door open and close buttons for you. (Note: The Chinese are very big into the open and close buttons in elevators. After some very scientific research, I have discovered that in fact the door will close two seconds faster if you hit the door closed button just as soon as the door opens. For people who move so slowly, they sure are an impatient, pushy bunch.)

Kate's apartment is very nice. A two bedroom, two bath, overly heated, 11th floor, lovely apartment completely kitted out in IKEA decor (yes, IKEA is in BJ). I have access to one Chinese based international TV channel, plus an intriguing music video channel (although mostly modern love ballads, last night there were Asian cowboys line-dancing outside a diner and in a barn, drinking milk all to a very catchy tune), and a channel entirely dedicated to western extreme sports. Thus, I have been working my way through an eclectic selection of pirated DVDs that Kate inherited from, if the choice of movies is any indication, a friend who reveled in angst. See the list on this blog (I can't see it but I think it's located to the right) to see what made the watched-list.

Did I mention, this apartment also comes with a weekly cleaning lady? Having a cleaning service is very common in Beijing - both my female coworkers employ one. Zhao Min's also looks after her daughter in the afternoons and starts dinner. Kate's comes every Thursday morning, at which time, I leave let her in, leave her some money (~$6) and then go to work. Presto - a cleaner apartment and sometimes laundered bedding, when I get home.

But before this begins to sound like bliss, let me point out that for whatever structural defect, one man's ceiling is literally another man's floor. I have come to learn the daily schedule of the family above me. I know when it's food prep time (sounds of chopping), cleaning/washing time, instrument practice time (keyboard or most recently, clarinet), and I know when it's time (10p) to put the little daughter to bed (clickety-clack of little shoes running to and fro followed by five minutes of fussing and then quiet).

Photo: This is not the little girl, but a cute as a button baby I saw in Xi'an who was outwith his grandfather. If viewed from behind (literally), the little guy was sporting traditional split-crotch pants exposing his bare bum as he toddled around.

Xi'an: warriors, meat and Muslims

This past weekend, I flew to Xi'an with my coworker Guo Xin and her husband Kevin and met with GX's friends who took the overnight train. The main reason for a trip to Xi'an is to visit the Terracotta Warriors, several hundred life-size, unique warriors and horses placed in a Qin Dynasty emperor's tomb to accompany him into the afterlife. Fortunately, once in Xi'an there are many other things to see, do and eat. (Photo: Drum Tower)

It flies in the face of most visitors, nationals and historians, but I was not bowled over by the warriors. Yes, it's interesting seeing them standing in all phases from internment through renovation in the pits from which they are still being unearthed and reconstructed. They have erected buildings over three original sites to work on and preserve the warriors while they are on exhibit. An unconventional method considering most museums. It took a long time to get to the site, and walking around at the speed and behest of my friends' tour guide (something common in China - at a museum or historical site you hire a tour guide) was a little frustrating. Plus, one of the three pits was closed during low season, it was cold, and I was sleep deprived. Whine, whine, whine.

Why was I sleep deprived? One needs to chose their traveling companions carefully. We had opted to stay at a pretty cool youth hostel and share a room. Besides limits on our ability to communicate, they did not got to bed before 1 am and both mornings one thing or another woke them up early and apparently without any thought to whispering and tip-toeing. The two things I had wanted to do on this trip were visit the warriors and bicycle along the renovated city wall. The latter activity was continually delayed in favor of the groups' other interests and thus, we ran out of time. However, as part of this group, I did enjoy the inside track as a domestic tourist. They found the best local restaurants, conversed with taxi drivers, found buses, told me about the city and its history, and haggled for me. In the end, I saw a lot of the wall, just not the top of it. And that was really okay.

What turned out to be the most fascinating part of the trip was visiting the Muslim quarter. Partly touristy, partly untainted, there is a large Islamic culture which spills over into architecture, food, clothes and tradition. In addition to the seemingly endless supply of animal parts for sale, the staples of this region are noodles and a chalk white unleavened baked then grilled bread which is thick, dense and almost tasteless. They break it up in itty-bitty pieces to thicken soup, spread finely chopped peppers on it, or slice it open and put mutton or beef in it to make a greasy, soft yet crispy sandwich. In the soup and sandwiches you can order a spectrum of fatty to lean meat. At one meal, GX was dismayed and disgusted to find out her husband had bought one that was entirely fat. As gross as it sounds, it melts in your mouth - however, after eating one of these sandwiches, I was keenly aware of how fat slows gastric motility. My gut hurt and my appetite disappeared for about 24 hrs. Oh, but there was so much yet to try.

Another perk of being with Chinese travel companions was Kevin has a friend in Xi'an who treated us to the biggest meal I've had in this country. (Several more dishes arrived after this picture was taken.) It was obscene. So many different dishes, so little room in my stomach. Plus when they said they were going to have "white wine", I thought great, I'll have some of that. Turns out their white wine is a 45% alcohol liquor made from sorghum which we drank in 1/2 ounce glasses during a succession of toasts until the bottle was empty. Strangely enough, none of us felt the affects of this potentially potent drink except for our host who, by the end of the meal, sported a tell-tale red face and was walking around the restaurant holding hands with Kevin. This gentlemen, who is the VP of local banking branch in Xi'an, also gave us a ride to the airport when we left. So perhaps not your typical traveling adventure, but having the Chinese connection definitely had its pluses.