Footprints Recruiting

The apartment provided by the school is across a main road and down a narrow lane through hundreds of parked bicycles, scooters, street vendors, small open ended shops and loitering people of all ages, to what I can only describe as what looks like an entrance to a cave, then up a flight of solid cement stairs into a kind of open hallway.

 We are on the second floor of this 7 or 8 story building (I guess we are “lucky” to avoid the long trek up the stairs to the apartments above – no elevators here, especially under 9 floors). The apartment is a pleasant surprise. A concrete bunker style (all walls interior & otherwise are concrete) freshly painted (yellow, white, with green, blue and red accents – not quite our style) but complete with 2 spacious bedrooms, marble floors in the main area, a small galley kitchen with a 2 burner gas stove, sink, some shelves & cupboards, a small clothes washer (that plays the complete melody of Jingle Bells to notify that the wash cycle is done!) air-conditioning and a fridge about half the size as the one in our Winnebago. The bathroom is divided into 2 parts by a sliding glass door with a flush toilet and mop sink in one half and the hand sink, mirror and shower in the other. Ceramic tile is on the floor and walls. The furniture includes 2 modern TV’s (one complete with DVD player), a couple of couches, coffee tables, 2 new beds, a dinning set, 2 large desks, a new computer and a telephone… home sweet home for the next year, at least. After a month or so of cleaning and some organizing it is our refuge from the overwhelming world just outside our door.

It is quite surprising how small an area this city of about 6 million encompasses. There are only a handful of main streets (2-3 lanes wide in each direction) and not too many more semi main roads (1 lane wide with curb parking in each direction). Between these types of roads are what we call ‘alleys’. So named because that is what we would call them back home. They are narrow (2 cars might be able to pass each other when the alleys are somewhat empty in the middle of the night). Most cars stick to the main and semi-main roads and any size truck, Lincoln or Cadillac (rare as they are) avoid alleys all together. Off the alleys are even narrower lanes; too narrow for even the small cars used here and barely wide enough for bicycles and scooters. All the new buildings are along the main roads but the alleys are bordered by buildings no more than 2-3 stories high from various periods in the past, probably no newer than 150 years or so. The roofs are sloped with clay tile shingles and the walls are mostly a grey/black plaster or cement over brick with various shapes and sizes of windows, doorways, and other openings not obvious to be either door or window. Within these buildings are rooms which are homes to many families. On the ground floor, bordering the alley, are various business operations or combination shop-homes.

At first, to us, they are gritty, grimy and unimaginable as any kind of home sanctuary. We pass some of these every day to and from our apartment so we are able to catch a glimpse of life inside without having to stop and stare with our jaws dropped. We put on a face of ‘all is normal’ and hide the shock we feel inside. In one room no bigger than a closet are 2 cots for beds, a small desk/table, a rice cooker, a TV, no windows and the one undersized door made of corrugated steel swung open to allow in some light and air so that a small boy of about 8 yrs old can do his school homework. A neighbourhood washroom services many homes and the residents come and go all hours of the day in clothes or pajamas after showering and such. A taxi pulls up and from one little doorway a well dressed young woman steps out looking like she would fit into any fashion scene in New York. A few bursts of conversation with some of her obviously familiar neighbours and into the taxi she goes, which immediately starts the horn honking apparently required for it to maneuver down the lane, weaving in and out of all the obstacles along the way. A few days ago we were surprised to hear a “Hello” from an alley resident all of 6 years old. Her parents grin from ear to ear with pride when we respond and the little girl answers back with “Very pleased to meet you”. All we can muster is “Very pleased to meet you, too”.

The alleys are also a market place. In addition to the ground floor shops the alley begins to fill every morning at 530 am with all forms of carts, tricycles, scooter trucks and such, loaded with food products from the countryside. They set up in their regular spot to sell their own specialty items. The shop fronts, some doorways, and the alley peddlers are shielded from the sun and rain by various tarp covers held up by ropes stretched across from buildings on one side of the alley to those opposite.

By 6 am all the alley ‘restaurants’ have purchased the necessary items for their menu offering of the day and are open and serving ‘breakfast’ to the varied assortment of people on their way to work. A large selection of produce and other food items are available for blocks and blocks along the alley markets. From our apartment window we can see part of the alley and at 530 am, like clockwork, the local butcher begins chopping up the meat of the day (usually pork). Local shoppers hand over paper money in exchange for a piece of fresh meat. The butcher takes the money, makes change and stuffs it in and out of his pocket with bloody fingers from the work at hand. By 8 or 9 am with the day’s meat sold, he rinses the well worn wooden cutting table and stores it in a cubby-hole ready for the same routine the next day. No sign of any refrigeration anywhere close-by, let alone freezer facilities.

Across the alley from the butcher is the fish guy. Plastic bins arranged on the ground and filled with water hold several forms of live marine life. Shoppers point to their selection, which the fish guy then puts into a plastic bag, live, and weighs on a hand held scale in front of the customer. Once the weight is confirmed he dumps them out, still wriggling, cuts and cleans them on the spot before putting them back into a plastic bag and collecting the money. No need for lots of ice for this fresh fish peddler. Yesterday, we found it difficult to enjoy some deliciously prepared eel at a local upscale restaurant (we were official guests) as we couldn’t help but recall the vision of the wriggling eels every morning as the fish guy cuts off their heads, skins them, then removes their innards. A knowing glance at each other and we put on a smile; eat the well prepared meat from the skewers it was cooked on and are rewarded with a pleasingly tasty treat.

Other inhabitants of the alley include barbers, beauty salons, shoemakers, open-air pool table operators, tailors, fabric shops, bicycle repairmen, furniture makers, upholsterers, scooter repair shops, gambling clubs (frequented 24/7), all ages of happy playing children, adults from all walks of life strolling or shopping and of course the necessary amount of workers, delivery people, etc required to keep the whole scene going. Surprisingly little garbage is noticeable as the city street cleaners with their hand made straw brooms, and large bicycle wheeled push carts maintain a nightly vigilance on the excesses of all the activity. A sewer drainage system evident only by the drains in the rough asphalt of the alley captures the frequent street dumpings of various liquids poured out by the shop workers. Near the end of the alleys (close to the main streets, where visibility to people from outside the neighbourhood is more likely) is scattered with all sorts of food cooking/selling portable setups. Everything from wood, coal, or garbage burning oil drums with wok pots on top to propane fired grills, peanut roasters, bar-be-ques and dim sum steamers do their bit to add to the sights, sounds, and smells of this human anthill.

It is at the end of one block of this alley and across a life threatening main road that our closest supermarket is located. With its bright lights, automatic glass doors, air conditioning, coolers, freezers, uniformed staff, new clean floors, shopping baskets/buggies, large posters and flashy merchandizing displays, the contrast is extensive.

This is great!…we are seeing things in reverse to the usual travel experience… first, we have settled into a neighborhood: working, setting up a new home, getting to know what’s what for daily living, becoming known to the neighbourhood merchants and other residents; then, getting out to the surrounding area… the tourist spots, shopping centers, museums, and historical sights.

After a few weeks we can see past the aspects of the alley which are shocking and into a very interesting community and way of life. The Mid-Autumn Moon Festival moon cakes that used to taste so strange back home taste much better here and the smells of the alley no longer turn our stomach.

We are now accepted as part of the neighbourhood by the locals. They no longer stop and stare or marvel at our ‘foreignness’. But we do get laughter and fascination when we try new tasks of every day living with them. And we know when someone is new to our area because of how they stare at us.

I went to a local hair salon (in the alley) and braved getting a hair cut even though the ‘stylist’ had no idea about what I was trying to say on how I wanted it cut. There I sat, powerless, in his swivel chair, staring into his mirror at the sights of vegetable carts, bicycles, scooters, etc. of the alley marketplace activities just outside, as he, complete with red hair (died & permed), flailed away on my head with 5 different types of scissors and a straight razor while his colleagues teased and laughed at him, and me - the unusual foreign head of fine grey hair, in their shop. Fifteen minutes later, the best haircut I’ve had in years was complete and I paid the 10 RMB. Upon leaving the little alley shop, the owner said in perfect English. “Thank you. Please come again.” After my success, Shirley braved going to the same shop a few days later and to the same stylist with the same great result and best of all, for the same great price, 10 RMB! We must be memorable customers because even now, when we walk by the shop, the stylist waves to us! We get the same wave of recognition from the alley soup kitchen ‘noodle-maker’ as he flings the hand made noodle dough into the air in preparation for the days business. This, after only a few delicious noodle meals taken in the front of his shop as people walking by point and chuckle at us.

We are now comfortable buying our fruit and vegetables in the alley market from the cart vendors. The quality is superior to the supermarket and the prices slightly less but most of all it feels right to be part of the local community. Somehow we manage to get across what we want with the help of sign language and our meager attempts at Chinese. Always we are aided by the merchants desire to serve (and of course sell) and their absolute delight at dealing with foreigners so strange that they don’t even understand the most basic Chinese… not a common occurrence.

We are still surprised every day at how easy it is to function when we are only able to speak English. We are determined to learn at least some basic Chinese to enable a connection in the native language but this will not be easy, as those locals who have learned some English, jump at the opportunity for some practice with a native English speaker, when their non-English speaking colleagues call on them to assist the ‘poor helpless foreigners’.

Commercial and public signage frequently includes English and some of the translation continues to provide us with great amusement. On the escalator in a department store ..’Watch your legs!’, ‘No curveting allowed!’, and ‘Watch out, the Head!’.. at a museum entrance ‘People with pets or drunkards not welcome!’

At first, we were puzzled by the amount of English for so few foreigners. But it made sense when we realized that it is not for our benefit, but rather to help all Chinese people to become more familiar with an ‘English’ environment, which will enable China to ‘reach out and embrace the world’. This is what produced the opportunity for us to live here.

Now that we are accepted and feel comfortable in our new ‘home’ we are ready to venture further out in this fascinating place.

By: Not for reprint, copying or publishing without permission. 

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