Culinary Calisthenics

Ever since arriving in Beijing I had heard whisperings of Ghost Street- famous for its diverse culinary offerings and endless strings of red lanterns. Offhandedly I glanced around for the telltale lanterns whenever I wandered new territory, getting excited if I encountered even a few clustered lanterns near any old eatery. When I finally stumbled onto Ghost Street I felt foolish that I had looked for it elsewhere; the never-ending sea of red lanterns was arresting and a dead give away. Not just a mere smattering for decoration- these red lanterns crowd the width of the sidewalk so closely that the sky appears red instead of blue or Beijing’s classic hazy. Under these lanterns restaurants line the street shoulder to shoulder- vying for hungry crowds and distinction along Beijing’s most delicious avenue. The afternoon that I emerged from tiny hutongs to find this wide avenue of culinary abundance and visual pleasure a satisfied smile spread across my face.

After realizing I had burst onto Ghost Street I idled down the road watching nondescript vans pull over and unceremoniously toss sacks of vegetables right onto the grungy sidewalk. Workers quickly lugged the produce inside, stocking the districts’ hundreds of kitchens for the evening’s ravenous crowds.

Further down the street I was surprised to come upon a public performance. After closer inspection I guessed it was a culinary graduation! As I approached I realized the sidewalk was filled with as many as 60 chefs all in matching black, yellow and red uniforms standing in neat rows. Each had a proud bright red graduation cap perched on his head. The head chefs stood facing the graduates- barking orders, calling names, and handing out certificates. I stopped to watch the proceedings, thrilled and amused to stumble upon such a special and seemingly random event. All of a sudden the mood changed and the chefs started doing bizarre things- as a group they kicked, squatted, clapped rhythmically and sang songs in unison. Ten minutes later they were still singing loudly, their voices echoing through the entire neighborhood. Finally I pried myself away from the baffling yet riveting scene and continued down the row of restaurants.

When I returned home later that evening I assailed Julia with tales of the exciting culinary graduation I had witnessed while wandering Ghost Street. She laughed at me, amused at how new I still was to China. She informed me that the graduation hats were just a part of the normal kitchen uniform- a popular aesthetic touch in China. Additionally the ‘ceremony’ I had witnessed was actually a daily calisthenics routine! The chefs were getting pumped up to hit the kitchen and turn out the evening’s meal. Apparently it is not uncommon for larger restaurants to assemble their kitchen staff outside the entrance for daily pre-shift warm ups, team building routines, and professions of spirit- loudly, proudly and publically. Their routine seemed exhilarating and bizarre to me as an outsider, but here it is completely normal and represents one of the many quirks that make life in Beijing unique and easy to love! 

Yonghegong Hutong Wanderings

Some of Beijing’s original ancient city streets still exist today. They make up the winding maze of traditional cobbled ally ways and courtyard homes called Hutongs. These ancient streets with their one-story tile roofed domiciles are a window into Beijing’s past and a sharp contrast to the endless glass high-rise buildings and skyscrapers that define Beijing’s modern landscape.

These downtown hutongs are some of my favorite places in Beijing- they have such character and give you a glimpse into people’s daily lives. The hutongs’ small streets and neighborhoods also host some of the city’s smaller quirky boutiques and feature many small trendy bars and cafes.

Despite their long history, many inhabitants and undeniable charm, hutongs have been disappearing in recent years to make room for Beijing’s rampant commercial modernization. The government considers many hutong areas to be better utilized as high-rise property development, and thus countless historic neighborhoods have been destroyed. Therefore the hutongs that survive today feel precious.

These photos show my wanderings through the hutongs of the Yonghegong (Lama Temple) neighborhood. I love getting lost in their twists and turns, stumbling upon daily life happenings of neighborhood residents, and finding little treasures as I amble through the hutongs’ small pedestrian streets. On the afternoon of this particular adventure I enjoyed watching Grandmothers do their washing and grandfathers grip their birdcages as they gazed enraptured at a street side game of Chinese chess.

Produce markets spilled onto the street selling large toads and fragrant persimmons, and construction workers barreled past me with carts of debris as neighborhood children gleefully climbed the mounds of construction materials.

A sharp turn brought me to a progressive and innovative neighborhood lending library. This courtyard home had been converted into a small center for literacy and education, spreading its mission through free book lending to neighborhood residents. The library is an example of the intimate respect and community that still exists in the small residential hutong areas.

Further down the road I saw a ramshackle fairy tale house- the slab roof featured a precariously balanced little shed as well as a bizarre and charming couch and tea table overlooking the street. A gnarled tree half hid this intimate outdoor living room from passersby and a calico cat gazed out the first floor window.

On another especially quiet hutong I stumbled upon a small gourmet cheese shop (cheese is rare in china and a serious luxury). Next door was an empty storefront undergoing construction- yet after closer inspection I realized the space had been turned into a temporary public art space for the construction interim. Four tv screens faced the street shining through the grubby windows and bright illustrations bordered the façade.

A few streets down I explored some very quaint and trendy expat haunts. The Touchwoman café had every British aesthetic detail and delicacy you could desire and Pure Lotus Vegetarian restaurant embodied the epitome of luxury chic with its misted bamboo garden dining. I also glanced into a fearsome vampire bar and wholesome brewery bistro.

As you wander hutongs they can look dusty and basic, but are full of every day life with clotheslines strung on the street and bike carts scooting through picking up trash.  Then you glance into an inner courtyard and see an old man reading a paper, a child scribbling in chalk on the neighborhood walls, and an international beer shop as big as a closet peeking out behind a street side restaurant. Each one of these things make you feel the energy, life and charm that fill these tiny, winding, ancient city streets.

Chinese Oddities

There are many aspects of life in China that are just plain strange. Not quite a full story, they do deserve to be mentioned in brief because of their sheer hilarity and oddity to someone from the outside.

Utilities

Our hot water heater is tiny- about the size of a cutting board and uses visible flames to warm the water (except that it is always broken- so we shower at the gym- whether or not we are actually exercising).

Building heat in China is nationally regulated- this year it was supposed to come on either November 1^st or 15^th. The actual date was unclear, thus our apartment was pretty chilly and there was nothing we can do about it! Thankfully when it snowed briefly on November 3^rd the government sympathized and flipped the heat switch.

Home electricity here is odd as well. It works like a go-phone: you have a card (in our case a wand) that you deposit money onto by going to any bank teller. When your prepaid amount runs out your power shuts off. We didn’t know how to read our meter when we arrived, so we enjoyed a night or two in dark before we figured it out and recharged.

Bikes

The number of bicycles in Beijing is overwhelming- it almost feels like they are as populous as Beijingers themselves. Wherever you go tight rows of bikes line sidewalks, block entrances, linger in their own specialty sheds and pile up in huge mountains created by angry patrol guards. Of course to add to the madness I have a bike of my own. After my first shiny new bike was stolen I realized that is more popular to buy an old, used, beat up looking bike- so it won’t attract thieves! On the flip side, if you do actually buy a new bike many people leave the plastic packaging attached to all the metal bars to show off their new purchase. I would guess they bought hefty new locks as well! Lastly, in Beijing bicycles are actually two man vehicles! Almost every other bike that whizzes by has a friend precariously perched on a little grate above the rear tire. It is funny to see the bikes wobble with the extra weight and especially to see someone jump on the back of a moving cycle. Sidesaddle or straddle- who cares, with 1.3 billion people in China everyone’s got somewhere to go and bikes seem to be the most popular and feasible option.

Baby Bottoms

Un-potty trained children in China all wear bizarre little shorts/pants that have a slit in the crotch. When this child needs to go to the bathroom, they are trained to squat wherever they may be- public or private- and their shorts will automatically split open and allow them to do their business on the spot. It is really a hilarious sight- be it summer or winter- to see a fully clothed child running around with half his/her bottom showing.

A quick story on the theme~

Recently a friend and I spotted a small child squatting over a sidewalk newspaper (he had pulled his crotchless shorts down) when two Chinese businessmen approached the black Mercedes he was crouched next to. The men tried to awkwardly shimmy past the tiny boy, but with no parent in sight the child froze on the spot, pants still down. The men’s feet, car door and child’s face hovered within inches of each other for an uncomfortable 7 minutes until the child’s father finally appeared and whisked him off, dissolving what was one of the most awkward scenes I have witnessed in China.

Homelessness

There are surprisingly few homeless people in Beijing’s streets, but the few that exist are always flanked by small puppies. Rumor has it they sell their puppies when they get too big and bargain for younger ones.

Spitting

Spitting is an unsavory but constant part of life in China. Every few minutes you will hear men around you making loud guttural noises as they prepare to hurl phlegm onto the street- side walk- subway floor- or right next to your feet.

Rush Hour

All Beijing subway lines have metal detectors you have to run your belongings through before you can enter the station. Yet I have never seen anyone questioned or detaining due to this ‘safety measure’- maybe it represents a false sense of security? Additionally this extra checkpoint can cause station entrance rush hour lines to pile up several blocks out the door. Once you finally make it inside to the platform it is relatively uncrowded, despite the 30 minute wait to get in. Getting on a peak train is probably worst of all- people will pack into a subway car or bus until bodies are so tight literally nobody can breathe. I have even witnessed people hurl themselves at a crowded subway car and bounce back. Also when the subway doors open at the next stop those on the platform push into the car immediately and don’t allow any time or space for anyone to exit the subway car, so sometimes it is impossible to get out! Really it is no less than a nightmare. I often feel maimed at the end of the day after my 1.5 hr commute home from various art districts.

Amusement

Instead of a small knit ball filled with grain, children’s hacky sacks in China are made of tall multi-colored feathers attached to weighted disk on the bottom. It is so cute to see the school kids across the street punting these fanciful toys in the air during recess.

Beauty

I have found in Beijing that cosmetic items and services are disproportionately more expensive than everyday Chinese products and similar products in the US. For example my bicycle cost rmb 150 (about $24) and the cheapest tube of drugstore mascara costs rmb 130 (about $21), whereas in the US you can buy cheap mascara for $6. Getting your nails done is also much more complicated than at home. Hidden expenses pop up at every moment- the price is raised depending on the brand of polish, whether you want base and coats and if you use the drying machine. Suddenly a simple polish change becomes a luxury expense.

Food

Rising obesity rates in China may or may not have anything to do with the fact that McDonalds, KFC and other popular fast food chains deliver! Right to your front door. These chains are also often open 24hrs a day and are a popular place for students (at least in Wudaokou- a college area) to fall asleep during the early morning hours if their roommates have kicked them out in favor of a love tryst.

There are many bizarre foods to sample in Beijing, but one of the common street snacks that I think Ill never get used to is boiled goose heads. It is strange to see a fashionable young girl waltzing outside the mall hand in hand with her boyfriend as she gnaws on a goose head snack.

Materials

In Beijing to-go food is usually placed in small plastic bags instead of the boxes we are accustomed to in the US. Often people plop their bagged food directly into a bowl- bag and all. Although a very normal way to eat small vendor food in China, this habit somehow appears strange to me.

Instead of doors almost all entrances to Chinese stores, restaurants and malls feature curtains made of thick, wide plastic strips that one would associate with a meat market or walk-in restaurant fridge. These grubby plastic strips are pretty unsightly, but maybe help to keep the heat/cool in/out? I wish my gallery had these! Our huge bronze doors are wide open all day long letting the 40-degree weather constantly flow over me at the front desk. Nothing like wearing your coat inside all day!

Something I find innovative is that little parks and some sidewalks throughout Beijing’s residential areas sport public exercise machines. It is disorienting but pleasant to walk down a street and see someone huffing away on a manually powered, brightly painted, metal elliptical-like machine.

Beijingers who drive for a living often wear thin white gloves when they are at the wheel. Whether they are manning a taxi, bus, subway or semi-truck, it is delightful to see these often gruff hardy men wearing delicate, if grungy, white gloves as they maneuver the city’s chaotic streets.

Numbers

Have you ever noticed in the US that buildings often do not have a 13^th floor? Well in China there is no fourth floor. In Mandarin, the word for ‘four’ sounds vaguely like the word for ‘death’ and therefore the number 4 is unlucky and widely avoided. In contrast, the number 8 is considered to be very lucky. When I bought my Chinese cell phone plan I was confused when they allowed me to personally select my cell phone number. Julia explained that this was so I could pick a number that had many 8s and few 4s- clearly number significance continues past superstition and actually effects daily elements of Chinese society.

Internet Censorship

If you are reading this sentence then you either take internet censorship for granted or you own a VPN. In China, my blog is censored. All of the websites I visit on a daily basis when living in the US are unavailable and inaccessible to me in China- that is without an out of country proxy internet server- called at VPN. Thus in China I pay for internet twice! Once to get online and again to remove all the firewalls. Please, when you go on gmail, google, nytimes, facebook, blogs, youtube or twittr think of everyone in China who’s IP address shows up ‘unavailable’ when they visit these sites. Recently during the November National Party Congress the internet was so heavily censored that even my VPN wouldn’t work. Which is why I haven’t posted in so long! 

A Bit of Color & Way Too Many Postcards

When Julia and I moved into our apartment a few months ago it was clean but devoid of color and personality. Two weeks of fanatic postcard and poster collecting changed everything. Determined to make our place feel like home I slowly pasted the walls in my usual hectic collage style. Julia appreciated a bit of color on the walls and was gracious and tolerant when I went overboard, typical Zan. All of the postcards I used were free at gallery openings or gathered from design stores in the 798 Art District where I work- thus some of our decorations are fairly strange and others jarringly colorful. Julia, thank you for tolerating my love of bizarre art! Best of all, our previously unmarked door now cannot be missed, thanks to Halloween décor and a giant collaged apartment number.  Finally I had to stop obsessively collecting colorful bits for fear of completely overdoing it. 

Here is an update of what our living space looks like now!