In another life I may have been to Chengdu, or even to China for that matter. I can't shake off this feeling. Everything is new, but nothing feels strange or uncomfortable. It's not a sense of familiarity, it's something else and I wish I could put my finger on it, but I can't-- the feeling just hovers over me while I prowl the city. I walk and walk, and spot small stores that peculiarly sell one good and one good only (air conditioners, gas pumps, safes, curtains, picture frames, and on and on), a vendor who you're separated from by a window selling chicken and goose livers, and drivers ready to mow you down in the middle of the street even though the light is red. (God I hate Chinese drivers, they are their own authority and they listen and respond to absolutely no one). Nothing feels like home, but nothing seems strange or out of place either...
Maybe it's the McDonald's across the street and the pretzel Goldfish I can buy at the store around the corner that don't make me feel completely out of place. I think it has more to do with the people I'm walking amongst who seem... well, just like me. I'm witnessing recognizable motions of life among the crowds of people who are also strolling out on the street (not so much strolling as they are taking baby steps-- FACT: Chengdu people walk so slow I'm hesitant to call it walking and they would never survive the pace of NYC) . Motions of life that are so very familiar: businessmen going to work, dressed up girls meeting friends at a mall, couples sharing a waffle treat at Dairy Queen's, rowdy men drinking Tsingtsao with their shirts pulled up, restaurant owners steaming noodles outside on the sidewalk, a Chinese man in a rush shoving you out of the way while passing, and stray dogs sniffing at garbage and marking poles. I've seen scenes similar to these before in another place, at another time so even though I feel so far away from home, I don't feel entirely like an alien living in a far out planet. I'm more like a space cowgirl. I guess now I'm a space cowgirl tethered to Chengdu since Dan and I have fleshed out a temporary permanent life here. Huh? Are you still following?
We're not living in a hostel anymore after 3 months of sleeping in strange beds in rooms that had constant influxes and outflows of people who smelled differently, who snored loudly, who didn't know how to whisper at 6 AM, and who smoked cigars out on the deck every morning at 5 AM. The last hostel we stayed at was Sim's Cozy Hostel in Chengdu where there were rabbits roaming around sprawling gardens, a menu boasting homemade museli, fried yakisoba noodles, mapo tofu, and baked beans with toast and eggs, an extensive DVD collection (yes! Finding Nemo), and people from all over the world willing to hang out and hear about your adventures as well as share theirs. The world is overflowing with curiosity and those itching to munch on the grass on the other side. The grass definitely is a different green over here.
After about a week-long stint there, I'm casually writing about my experiences on my bright green couch where Dan and I are the only ones in our 2-bedroom apartment (well, okay, Doodle is here too*). The view is mediocre, but the windows provide a generous 135 degree range of vision. The shower isn't separated from the rest of the bathroom (there's just a shower head, but no tub or ledge to keep the water from seeping out to the toilet and to the sink and even out the door) which is annoying, but we have a Western toilet (try shitting in a Chinese toilet every day for a year-- good for your thigh muscles, but a little too uncomfortable for my “Western” ass). The bedrooms aren't very big, but the beds could fit 3 people easily (won't be testing that out). The apartment is just what Dan and I need, and we pounced on it once given the opportunity, especially after the 2 day apartment hunt that ended in confusion and bitterness. The Chinese rental system is completely different from the American's: in China you pay 3- or 6-month increments, or a year upfront. The commission for the apartment broker also costs the same as 1 month's rent. We only found this out at the very end of the process when we were meeting with the landlord and the apartment brokers after Dan and I had found a perfect apartment after viewing 4 the day before. Dan and I didn't have the cash to pay the landlord 6 months upfront (+security deposit+broker's commission), and unfortunately the guy would neither crack a smile nor budge from his payment plan. After that Dan and I decided to go to an apartment complex we knew our workmate lived in to talk directly to a landlord.
It worked and here we are! We had to deal and haggle with an elderly short Chinese man and a plump elderly Chinese lady whose bags were so puffy it kind of looked like the cheeks of a bullfrog when it puffs out. You're probably thinking, they're old, they probably weren't too bad to deal with, old people are usually so nice and calm. FUCK THAT. This Chinese duo was anything but calm-- they screamed and spat trying to outdo each other in voice volume while giving us information about the apartment. They kept calling us the next morning when we were supposed to move in demanding to know where we were (we were on the way, stuck in traffic). They demanded us to pay more and more money upfront, even though we would be paying them that money the next day anyway. They were fucking relentless and so loud I thought they were angry the entire time. I needed an Advil after going through all the details in the contract and signing it; my head was going to explode if I heard another loud Chinese outburst.
At the end of the day though, we now have quite the experience under our belts, and an apartment nestled in between 2 main streets. One main street, People's Road South, is filled with business buildings, couture shops, and a Starbucks whereas the other one, Keuhua Beilu, is populated by local restaurants, bars, and hot pot places. There's quite a difference between the two streets and I think it accurately highlights the direction China is heading. No one can dispute China is quite the cultural haven, you'd be blind not to see it when walking down Keuhua Beilu where you can see many hole-in-the-wall restaurants offering Sichuan's special noodle dish and smell greasy hot pot soup wafting down the street from your favorite hot pot spot. Yet when you walk to its parallel street, People's Road South, you're hard pressed to find the local flavor of Chengdu anywhere. You can find a Western sports bar called “Shamrocks”, a Starbucks, and to Dan's amazement a Western style Grandma's Kitchen (he always had raved about Grandma's Kitchen and their Chinese food so he was really disappointed to find this particular one only offered Western food), Louis Vuitton, Gucci, and skyscrapers filled with hundreds of offices and even more cubicles. You can't even smell the stench of hot pot on this street. The only thing that remains the same as Keuhua Beilu is the aggressive Chinese drivers.
China is becoming quite the consumerist nation as both the government and international businesses try to tap into such an unsaturated market (except the damn beer market-- where's my Hoegaarden?!). I mean there are so many fucking Chinese people, so much potential, so much money to be made that practically every government official and multinational corporation is wielding a giant boner at the possibilities. I think the challenge will be to balance China's distinct history and culture with this consumer culture, and to retain its original cultural uniqueness. I really hope China doesn't whore herself out completely to the sleazy capitalistic, consumerist tendencies that slowly eat away at cultural relevance. I'm hopeful because although China has already adopted free market principles, at the heart of it she holds substance and a distinct essence that set it apart from other countries. When I was in Costa Rica, for example, I didn't feel any real culture. Costa Rica at that point had become quite modernized and developed, and was in fact ashamed of its indigenous history with all its rich culture. The result was that Costa Rica lacked a certain cultural sparkle, although its beautiful nature made up for it. I wanted that living breathing thing I fondly call “CULTURE” because it arouses my senses, piques my interest and curiosity, and opens my mind's horizons. The sad thing about consumer culture is that it looks more or less like any other consumer culture in any other country. When you walk around the streets, it feels the same; they're filled with buying robots constantly wanting more, more of the most expensive, more of the newest, more of the flashiest, more, more, more. The flashing lights of Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Brooks Brothers, Tiffany & Co look the same on People's Road South as they do on Fifth Ave. I want my cramped, dirty restaurant with my fucking delicious, greasy noodles served by a sweaty Chinese man in a wife beater, please.
*I have the cutest dog now. Dan and I were walking down the street after signing our contract with the landlords and stumbled upon 2 people selling very small puppies. There was a particular one we fell in love with, and finding it very hard to walk away from her we bought it for about US $8. The puppy's name is Doodle (named after ChengDU), she's about a month old, and she's a local Sichuan breed. We absolutely love her, and I hope she's falling in love with us too.
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