Tourist markets and air quality

In the past week, I visited both of the most famous and popular tourist markets in Beijing. The Silk Market is the oldest in Beijing with the Pearl or Hongqiao Market running a close second. Today, I am sitting in my apartment avoiding the air pollution. After constantly battling upper respiratory stuff and the flu, I am now paying closer attention to pollution levels and staying inside if possible. More about that later. Now, let’s talk about the experiences that are the Silk and Pearl Markets!

The Silk Market was my first big tourist excursion during my time here. I say that because it is a market for non-Asian people which was recently renovated so that the former vendor stalls are now fully encased in glass. It more closely mirrors a shopping mall than a market. All of the vendors are Chinese, but they speak what I call sales floor English and all of the shoppers are most definitely not only not Chinese, but non-Asian.

I met a man from Ghana. We high-fived when I laughed at a comment that he made in English to a shopkeeper about haggling being part of his culture too. I met a family from Israel. The older man in the group and I had an extended conversation about the “many” National Geographic documentaries that he has seen about Nebraska. Who knew? Haggling was definitely not part of the Israeli man’s background, and he expressed great discomfort with it. In the end, I purchased a watch for a friend, a hand-carved name stamp for myself, and successfully avoided the aggressive sales tactics of most of the salespeople. I heard many languages that day and was thrilled to be in a place where my Western ideals about personal space were honored.

The Pearl (Hongqiao) Market is more difficult to reach than the Silk Market. Getting there requires walking about a half mile from the closest subway station. In contrast to the Silk Market, there were no tourist busses parked outside the Pearl Market. Inside, there was a more mixed crowd of people. Some of the shoppers were Chinese! The design of the Pearl Market is more traditional. It is open air without the glass walls found in the Silk Market. I knew immediately that this was a better place to shop. I suspected that the prices would be lower and the vendors less pushy. My hunches were correct.

It happened to be a slow day for the vendors at the Pearl Market, so they were more than willing to talk with me about their products and processes. The vendors I spoke with all own the business they represented and are all women. Most of the people working in the Pearl Market on the day I was there are women. I exchanged social media contacts with two vendors, and we communicated over WeChat during the past week. One of them asks a lot of questions about my experiences living in Beijing. She has visited the U.S. and would love to visit again someday. Both women agreed to talk with me about my research project.

I took the combined opportunities of a slow sales day and a dual-language population to ask a few more women about my research. I was surprised by their willingness to participate. Some of them looked so bored that I think I was a welcome distraction. By the end of the day, I had completed nine interviews, purchased another watch for the same friend, and bought pretty hair accessories for my daughters. When the vendors realized that I am living in Beijing, the haggling became less intense and the prices were lower. I will definitely return to the Pearl Market.

This week marked the fourth time that I have been sick since my arrival on March 1. I have no desire to return to the U.S. with pneumonia—something that happened to a friend who spent extended time in Beijing—and so I will do less wandering. I downloaded an app for my phone that not only gives me air quality levels and activity recommendations, but also a seven-day air quality forecast. For my last few weeks here, I will use it to plan my outings and activities when possible. My newfound understanding of air quality as it impacts health makes me value our pollution regulations in the U.S. The ones still standing, anyway.

I am still looking forward to being home, but I feel like my final few weeks here will be my most enjoyable and productive. My confidence to explore on my own and to reach out to people has increased exponentially. If I can get a few good air quality days before I leave, I’ll have many experiences to share with my friends and family. 

A view of the Temple of Heaven from the rooftop garden at the Pearl Market

New adventures and reflecting on home

Traveling, for me, is an exercise in people watching and self-reflection. Much of my learning about a place comes from observing and absorbing what is happening around me and mentally comparing it to what I already know. I guess it’s a form of satisfying my cognitive dissonance about a new place, if you’re into that sort of thing. It requires thinking about home—in my case both Omaha, Nebraska and Hattiesburg, Mississippi—and things that could be done better at home and things that I can’t wait to leave here. On Monday, I traveled to the city center for lunch with friends. Yesterday, I visited the National Performing Arts Center and a grocery store. Both days brought experiences that forced me to think about my life at home.

The lunch on Monday was something I have looked forward to since arriving in Beijing. I met two friends near their office, and we walked to a restaurant for lunch. They spent a semester at Creighton University when I was a student there in 2014. I was really glad to see my friends again.

During lunch, we talked about the mistakes I have made since arriving and how those are similar to their first month in the U.S. We spent a long time telling funny stories about crossing the street in Beijing vs. crossing the street in Omaha. In China, cars have the right of way. I don’t know if this is official, but I know that they do not stop for pedestrians. Ever. My first week here, I nearly got run over by a bus because I assumed it would stop for me, the pedestrian. No. Not at all. In the Unites States, pedestrians have the right of way. Especially in the area around Creighton, drivers are pretty good at watching for people and waiting. My friends stood still at many intersections while drivers waved them forward and waited, often not so patiently. We laughed and laughed at our shared experiences, and I felt truly comfortable for the first time since my arrival in Beijing.

After lunch, we walked through a nearby public park. It was beautiful and full of people taking afternoon or lunch time walks. The grounds appeared perfectly maintained with trash bins and bathrooms available in the park. I remarked that the park was gorgeous and obviously well cared-for, and my friend told me that the regional and federal governments fund the maintenance of green spaces. On my trip back to campus on the subway, I thought about parks in Omaha and Hattiesburg that could be beautiful and widely used if a value for natural spaces were reflected in our budgets. That would be pretty amazing for our national parks in the U.S. As I rode, I daydreamed of public transportation to and from fabulously maintained green spaces. It was a lovely ride.

I spent part of this week sick. Again. It was my third round of actual illness since arriving in Beijing just 45 days ago. At home, I’m sick about once a year. This time, it was a 24-hour flu bug, so at least it was over quickly. By Wednesday morning, I felt good enough to start planning some future adventures. After firing up my VPN and Google, I searched for Beijing opera performances and discovered the National Performing Arts Center website. After fiddling with the online ticket purchase site that is only in Chinese, I decided that I should go to the physical box office to buy my ticket.

It has been hot here. Wednesday, it was 83 degrees. I debated about what to wear and decided that a sleeveless shirt was a good option. That was good for my physical comfort but damaging to my emotional well-being. Women wear long sleeves, even during the summer here. The staring and whispered comments that make me so uncomfortable were multiplied. I am fairly certain that two people took photos of me. This reinforced my hatred for U.S. websites like “People of Walmart” and our propensity to laugh at people when we think they aren’t paying attention. I will be really happy to return to the U.S. where I am not the great oddity that I am here.

After successfully purchasing my ticket for next Wednesday’s performance of the nationally commissioned opera, 170 Days in Nanking, I boarded the subway for my favorite supermarket. I needed wine. Needed. The subway provides time to think. Again, I envisioned all the cool performing arts stuff that could happen if we aligned national, state, and local budgets with those priorities and taxed the wealthy and corporations appropriately. Although Chinese public transportation may seem an odd place to have these thoughts, it works for me.

The grocery store, Carrefour, is one that I have written about before. It is chaos. I love it. After choosing snacks and wine, I meandered toward the checkout. A cashier saw me approaching and enthusiastically waved me over to her lane. She spoke English and guessed that I did too. Coupons printed after my transaction and she lit up as she asked me to wait and pointed at the printer. She carefully explained what each coupon was and told me to come back to see her. She always works on Wednesday afternoons. I said that I would return and complimented her on her sequined sneakers. It was a wonderful interaction to have after my self-conscious time on the subway.

China is made up of 1.4 billion people. Beijing is a city of 24 million people. There are people everywhere all the time. People work long hours many days of the week. I can find things to love and to dislike in nearly every corner of the city. My next adventure is to the famous Pearl and Silk markets. Haggling is the standard way to do business. I’m steeling myself to negotiate fiercely and walk away when we can’t meet in the middle. Being uncomfortable here is good for me. It forces me to think about the good and not so good things at home. So, I’ll keep going new places and try to ignore the subway and street-level staring.

Strange happenings and things I love about Beijing

This is more a list than a blog post. Today, I’m telling brief stories about my time here already and listing things that are special and desirable about living here, even temporarily. Enjoy!

At a conference a few weeks ago, I realized that the drinks on the open bar had almost no alcohol in them. A German filmmaker and I were chatting when we jointly made this discovery. We looked around and spied the bottles of alcohol on the back of a table. We looked at each other, both smiled, and I grabbed the gin to top us off. The Chinese bartender objected in Mandarin. A bystander told us that he said, “Don’t be foolish. The drink won’t taste good.” Gin bottle still in hand, I looked at the bartender and said, “It’s okay. I’m American, he’s German. We can handle it.” The bartender shrugged his shoulders, walked away, and we poured proper drinks. I felt badly about pulling the American card, but it seemed like the right time.

Just yesterday, I was walking through security at the subway station and I said “Ni hao” to the young man at the security station. He laughed and said, in very good English, “You don’t say hello on the subway! Ni hao is only for friends.” One of the young women working the same security station said something back to him in a stern tone and he turned bright red. She said to me, “I told him he can never say hello then. He won’t have friends if he says those things.” She and her female co-worker laughed and laughed. I scurried away before I could draw any more attention to myself.

One of my biggest (like, actually biggest) pet peeves is the way old men stare at me. I stare back and smile. Sometimes, I wave. It appears to make them very uncomfortable. Today, a middle-aged man was riding past me on an electric scooter and he looked away from the road when I entered his field of vision. He stared and continued to stare as he unknowingly veered toward the closed entrance gate. He was within about fifteen feet of the still closed gate when I yelled, “Stop!” He did stop and did so quite suddenly. I don’t know if he understood me or if he was so shocked that I yelled at him that he jammed on his brakes. The security guard came rushing over to him and started yelling. Again, I exited the situation quickly and quietly while being secretly thankful that he was experiencing some sort of retribution for staring.

Things I love about Beijing:

If I’m lost or have a question, people will always help me if I ask for help.

Beijing is an extremely safe place, especially for foreigners. I could travel alone throughout the city and the country without worrying about my physical safety.

People often yell, “Hello” at me as I walk by. I always answer and give a big smile. It makes me happy.

Inexpensive, extremely reliable public transportation built with stops near schools and residential areas. Brilliant. We could do this in the United States. We really could.

Fresh, in-season food available in every neighborhood. Food is grown by people in China, not corporations, and is sold in-season at reasonable prices. Available food varies from region to region for this reason, but it seems to be a healthier way to eat and shop for people and the planet.

The value placed on art and music. Financial support is available for the production of all types of art, and it is highly valued in society. Even young people are interested in and participate in traditional and contemporary artistic pursuits.

I could make an equally long list of things that I miss about the United States or that seem more difficult here. However, while I’m here, the positives are where my focus and interest remain.

Adventure Day

Five years ago, I began a family tradition that we call “Adventure Day.” It really isn’t as fun as it sounds. It started because we were a one-car family and two of the kids and I were at home Monday through Friday with no transportation. One day a week, we would ride the city bus to Eileen’s Cookies, a local park, and maybe Kohl’s or the grocery store. This was Adventure Day! Like I said, not really an adventure, but the idea of adventure made waiting for the bus, transferring busses, and the walking more palatable for the kids. I was feeling restless when I woke up today, so I decided that Adventure Day could be a solo effort and could happen in Beijing.

While thinking about my time spent here already and looking forward, I realized that I haven’t done much sightseeing. I was in Beijing for two weeks just a few years ago and visited all the major sights on that trip. It also still feels a little strange to be one of the few non-Chinese people—often the only non-Chinese person—in the crowds. I’m not as confident as my life makes me seem. In fact, I often require a pep talk and bribery (self-administered, of course) to consider engaging in social activities or in anything close to an Adventure Day. Today, however, I made a plan and pushed myself. It was fun. It nearly always is.

I left my apartment around noon and walked to the subway. I disembarked at the Tiananmen East stop and stumbled through Tiananmen Square security with my passport and a smile. After walking around the place, I returned to the subway and went back one stop to Wangfujing. I read about a four-story bookstore with a food court in the basement and had to go. It was amazing! I bought graphic novels written in English and Mandarin for my kids. After eating lunch and walking through the shopping area, I bought a souvenir for my husband and headed back toward the subway. It was 5:30pm and I was nervous about riding the subway, but it wasn’t too bad. I traveled back to the Dawanglu stop, visited the bank, the mall, and bought some fruit and a bottle of wine at Walmart. I was tempted by the three-buck-chuck at Walmart but wasn’t feeling that brave. I settled on a $5 bottle of red something. It’s the first wine I’ve had since leaving the U.S., so I will enjoy it no matter how it tastes.

It was 7:10pm when I walked out of Walmart, and I headed for the subway. I was horrified when the first train arrived and was so full that people couldn’t push their way into the cars. Oh, boy. My greatest fear. I had to board an already-packed train. I squeezed my way into the second train. My route required a change of trains at Sihui, so I pushed out of the train car onto the platform, followed the crowd up three flights of stairs, and down a different three flights of stairs to the platform for the next train. The photo included here is of the crowd waiting for the next train. They are all waiting for one train going in one direction. Wow. The first train came a went. I didn’t make it on. The second train pulled up and I was crushed into the car with thousands of my (physically) closest friends. At the next stop, no one left, but more people pushed their way into the train car. By this point, I was in danger of hyperventilating or vomiting or, if things went really well, both. So much pushing, shoving, and swearing. I really have never seen anything like it. Fortunately, I only had to ride three stops until I was back to where I began my day.

Adventure Day went pretty well. I’m glad I talked myself into getting out and exploring. I’ll do it again next week, but earlier. No more 7pm subway rides for me.

Feeling second-best

Somewhere out there in the seemingly endless depths of the internet is a TED talk about not using the word “best” to describe a person’s achievements. The idea is that it sets up unnecessary competition and leads to unwarranted hard feelings. Regardless of how you feel about that idea, there is some truth to the concept of unnecessary or unrequited competition. I witnessed a display of those concepts yesterday during a conference about the making of documentary films in China. Although I was somewhat out of place at the conference, I learned much and observed some fascinating communication from and about Chinese government officials, academics, and film industry professionals.

As seems to be the norm with many big, expensive, showy events, the conference began with presentations from sponsoring agencies. In the United States, this takes the form of an opening ceremony, session, or the ever popular “remarks.” In Beijing, this included nearly two hours of speeches by government officials and representatives from academic and business partners. Throughout the speeches, I noticed one prevailing theme in multiple forms; the idea of the United States as primary, but newly inferior, competition in all areas of media production.

When the first government official spoke, I picked up on this idea. After a rambling few minutes praising the leadership of the country, the official told a story of visiting the U.S. and riding the high-speed train. Based on his description of the location, it was probably one of the high-speed commuter lines that Amtrak runs on the East Coast. He abruptly ended his presentation after this story by laughing and saying that the train service was anything but high speed and that the trains in China are far superior. I’ve traveled by train in both countries, and his criticism is apt, but oddly placed and communicated.

Next, a professor spoke about the fall of U.S. influence in the world, but specifically in all forms of media and the prowess of Chinese companies creating their own versions of American social media. If his data are accurate, he’s partially correct. The number of people using Chinese versions of social media and other internet applications is impressive. However, much of this is likely due to censorship and the sheer number of Chinese people. This twisted praise was especially interesting. I don’t claim to know much about international trade, but I can guarantee that U.S. companies would love to have access to the money possessed by 1.4 billion Chinese. However, I don’t think being cut out of the market by the government is viewed as competition for that market by U.S. corporations. Again, the competition seems contrived and one-sided.

Several speakers throughout the day talked about the fall of U.S. media as the worldwide standard and the rise of local media. I’m a fan of local media. After all, no one can tell the stories of their people or nation like a person from that location. This viewpoint was expressed fully by the industry professionals at the conference. There was a genuine spirit of cooperation and encouragement of new ideas and independent thinking. The discussion centered around ways to make “good and relatable documentary films.” Authenticity, professionalism, and openness were professed to be the most valuable traits of a documentarian.

Several European filmmakers and industry executives spoke during the middle of the day. It was fascinating to watch them carefully approach the issue of government control and censorship within the expressed triad of authenticity, professionalism, and openness. One representative from the UK said simply, “until the Chinese government ends censorship of documentary films, all materials produced by Chinese filmmakers will be viewed under the cloud of propaganda.” Ouch. He was more direct than the others, but they all echoed his sentiments on some level. The Chinese industry professionals seemed to agree via silence.

At the end of the day, additional academics and government officials revisited the calls to competition with the United States. This was done in the form of stories about the “terrible” U.S. health care system, corruption in the U.S. government, and the number of people living in poverty in the U.S. I didn’t necessarily disagree with anything that was said, but the framing was incredibly interesting. Each item was displayed as a shortcoming of the U.S. and then contrasted with an achievement by China. Enthralling.

Being who I am and having spent the entire day internally analyzing what seemed to be expressions of feeling second-best even though there was only one competitor, I asked the professor who talked about the decline of U.S. influence about his data. He confided that it was accurate, but it left out the influence of censorship and population. Asked if presenting data in that way bothered him, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “China needs to think they are superior. These numbers give them that feeling.” Wow. Wow. Wow. He went on to explain that he is a citizen of the U.K. living and working in China because it exempts him from paying taxes in the U.K. He’s moving to Hong Kong in August which will afford him the same tax exemption, but his work will be free from Chinese censorship. Is that the person you want telling your country’s story? What is your preferred telling of the story worth to you? I listened to his justifications and felt repulsed by what I saw as a lack of ethics.

Given the current state of politics and government in the United States, it seems that we may be similar in ways that are very unflattering. Who do we want telling our stories? Even if it’s our preferred story, does it matter who tells it?

I’m left with one question about being the “best.” Does that designation mean anything if it comes from within, and you’re the only one aware of competition for the title? There are times when I need to ask myself that very question.