Film Forum: Manufactured Landscapes

Today in New York, the Film Forum premieres Manufactured Landscapes, which follows photographer Edward Burtynsky as he travels through places like China and Bangladesh, capturing images of globalized industry. Directed by Jennifer Baichwal, the film features large-scale images of vast industrial landscapes, and delivers a message about the human and environmental costs of the destructive changes that our planet is experiencing.

The acclaimed Canadian artist takes large-format photographs of factory worker armies, skeletons of rotting oil tankers and dismantled cities along the shores of the Yangtze River as the Three Gorges Dam nears completion. It’s a film that “allows us to contemplate industry’s impact on land, people, and culture” and seems like a valuable tool that offers perspective for all travelers as we all move through this world, whether for work or pleasure.

License Plates Cost More Than Cars in Shanghai

In Shanghai, the largest city in China, you can expect to pay more for a vanity “number” license plate than one of China’s “hottest-selling subcompact cars,” the Chery QQ (pictured).

“Over the weekend, about 9,000 people bid for 6,000 car plate numbers, which were snapped up at an average price of 47,711 yuan [USD $6,262.68],” according to a Reuters article. Compare that to the QQ, which sells for only 39,800 yuan, or USD $5,224. Someone’s getting a raw deal.

Why are these number plates so coveted in China?

How Convenient: A Highway to Mount Everest

As if Mount Everest isn’t getting enough traffic and trash….China announced it would start building a highway right up to the base camp at 5,200 meters (17,000 feet) next week, the Guardian reports. They want to get it completed by next year’s Olympic Games to accommodate the influx of tourists.

Ain’t a “free” market economy grand?

Not only that, in preparation for the Olympics, China has also designed the most far-reaching Olympic torch route in history: 85,000-mile, 130-day relay crossing five continents and scaling the 8,850-meter peak of Mount Everest.

What’s next? A lift up to the top?

A Canadian in Beijing: FOR SALE! Live Animals (Trapped) in Small Cages

Walking along the sidewalk here in Wudaokou in the late afternoon and evening is not a passive exercise. The sidewalk markets take a wide space and transform it into a narrow, colourful corridor as vendors roll out their ware on square pieces of fabric on both sides and then call for your attention as you pass. That doesn’t keep people off the sidewalks, of course, but instead draws more to this small area. As a result, congestion is intense and the going is slow. If you’re not headed anywhere in particular then it’s worth the stroll. (If you’re trying to get somewhere on time, I suggest walking along the street!)

I have been taking in these kinds of street markets all over the city since I arrived and I’ve noticed one common element: there are always small, live animals for sale.

I hate to see it. Small rabbits in cages that are just slightly larger than they are with barely enough room to turn their bodies around. There are always puppies and kittens, turtles, snakes and lizards of various sizes. All of them are miserably tucked into cages or plastic cubicles and lay taking in the afternoon heat in their cells.

I can’t free them and I can’t save them . . .

I feel helpless and powerless walking by. I wonder who actually buys them and why. Do the rabbits become pets or food? And the reptiles must simply become pets, right?!

The huge box of baby chicks would make a lot more sense to me if this were a rural area. I can understand people having farms or small lots on which they would raise chickens for eggs and/or meat. Now, if this were the intention for the chicks, then I can understand wanting to sell them and wanting to buy them. But, here in the city? What would a person do with a baby chick here? Is it legal to keep chickens here? Something tells me that it’s not, especially since almost everyone lives in an apartment.

I have seen a lot of things like this here, i.e. things about China that I don’t understand and don’t want to see but simply have to accept as being part of the way it is here. I know I have my cultural background that fuels my opinions and I know there’s so much more to everything than meets the eye. Still, life here in Beijing has occasionally challenged my values and beliefs. I have chosen to sit back and take in the culture rather than passing judgements before I understand.

Two months later (and then some) and I still don’t understand the reason for selling these small animals in this way. And, I still want to set them all free in a park somewhere… which is, of course, not the answer. Nor will any amount of discussion with a vendor change the fact that they’re being sold, especially not in my third language.

About a month ago, I expressed to a vendor in Chinese that I felt sorry for the animals. I said they were “poor things” and said that their “houses were too small” (lacking the word for “cage” in my vocabulary.) The vendor just laughed at me with a look that told me he has heard it before from the foreigners and he has no time or space for it. This is his livelihood. This is his job.

Who buys them?

My friend Sarah told me that she knew two people who had bought puppies or kittens from a street or sidewalk vendor only to watch them die just a few days later. There is a compulsion to want to give one – if even just one – a safe and cage-free life and many ex-pats succumb to that urge. Apparently, these puppies and kittens are often drugged so that they appear more docile and cute while being sold (rather than active and hard to contain.) If the dosage is too high at that time that they are drugged, it eventually kills them but long after the vendor and customer have exchanged money for merchandise. I haven’t heard this since, but I was horrified to hear it at all.

Back in North America, we have done lots of work to make pet stores more humane. There is often a lot of anger towards them and over time I have noticed that most people just don’t trust these stores to care for the pets properly, preferring to find new pets at the Humane Society or the local pound.

So, buying live animals on the street is just another level altogether.

Now, when I’m strolling through the sidewalk markets, I just steer around the animal vendors. I can’t bear to see the congestion of turtles or chicks in boxes too small for their volume. I can’t bear to look at the puppies lolling in their drugged state and worry about whether or not they’ll pull through into adulthood.

After driving my gaze deep into the vendors’ eyes and telepathically communicating “how could you?” alongside of an amazed expression, I turn my head.

This technique doesn’t make it go away, however. Maybe this post will inspire more people to ask the vendors the “why?” questions – especially those fluent enough in Chinese to carry on a conversation. Until then, I can write about it.

(And always be open to other suggestions…)

A Canadian in Beijing: “Made In China” Electronics

I am exhausted. I have just spent an afternoon – yes, a whole afternoon – electronics shopping here in Beijing. Now, that does not mean what you think it means. I am not talking about going from store to store and price comparing or from mall to mall to seek out the “right” brands. No, this was in the same place for the entire time and consisted of much chatting, visiting, standing around and generally not shopping. According to my friend Traci, this was shopping “Chinese style.”

For all of my many gear geek friends, the opportunity to be in an electronics market where anything you possibly want is a fraction of the price would have been like being in a giant toy store. I can see their eyes light up at this idea and can picture them running around like children on sugar at a Boxing Day Sale at Toys R Us.

I just wanted a working camera. When my friend asked me what I wanted the camera to do, I said “take pictures!” He looked at me like I was kidding.

I wasn’t.

You see, many things are cheaper here in China. I’ve already talked about the cheaper clothes and food and services (like massage or manicures), but I haven’t yet mentioned anything about electronics. Since much of this equipment is actually “made in China,” it is a fraction of the price here compared to buying it in Canada. As I am heading home in just two weeks, I figured I’d better stock up.

My friend Rui came to the rescue again. He is Chinese and a Beijing resident and he offered to take me a nearby electronics market, which looked like a giant mall without walls. Escalators and huge signs and enormous, shiny, mirrored columns divided the stalls, but the merchandise was generally identical in each. The trick is in the bargaining and herein lies my weak point. I can bargain but I don’t know how much it’s “supposed” to be or what is actually a “good deal” here. For expensive items, I was worried about getting ripped off for simply being non-Chinese. So, as soon as I even mentioned that I needed some items, Rui refused to let me even consider going without him.

It turns out that he loves this stuff.

Like my friend Daisy, Rui is a natural at bargaining. Or, perhaps he’s just experienced for having lived in China is whole life. Whatever the reason, he’s good. What’s more, he has contacts everywhere and this electronics market was no exception. In typical “guanxi” fashion, his friend who works in one of these stalls is someone who he has done “favours” for in the past (I’ve no idea what!) and so calling on this friend now was right in-line with the give and take of this cultural phenomenon.

Rui is a Virgo. Need I say more? He wanted to very thoroughly price shop before he went to his friend for “advice.” We started the shopping marathon upstairs in this market in the slightly more ritzy shopping area by checking the “listed” prices of digital cameras. Since mine broke last week, this was my most expensive purchase and so the most important one to consider. Rui explained that listed prices are about one-third higher than they “need to be.” I was rather lax about it considering they’re still half as much money here than they are back home, but he was determined to be the shopping champion and I now understood that I had signed up for this tournament by seeking his assistance. And, hey, I’m not complaining. It was wonderful of him to help me save some money.

After this price shopping research mission, we went downstairs to where is friend worked, in the belly of this electronics monster store’s warehouse. When we arrived, we were ushered behind the counter and offered stools to sit on. Rui chatted and caught up with his friend while simultaneously playing a video game and passing around cold drinks. As usual, the presence of a strange “Canadian girl” was the subject of much curiosity, but they were all really nice to me and complimented my Chinese in typical polite fashion.

The conversation made its way around to what we were doing there, eventually, but not right away, of course, which would have been rude (he explained later). In fact, it was about fifteen minutes before the topic even arose and I was trying not to look as bored and agitated as I was feeling. (I mean, I’m really not into video games!)

I was weary, to tell you the truth. It was a hot day and this was a crowded market. I’m used to going into a store, buying an item and then leaving. This elaborate exchange was unexpected and I had to talk myself into sitting back and observing this process as part of my cultural learning rather than wanting to just leave and forget all about this mission altogether. I sat back and listened. When shopping here in China, there’s obviously no hurry. I mentally re-arranged my schedule for the day and got on for the ride.

Shopping is not a task; it’s a social process.

Eventually, a woman arrived with some cameras under her arm. I’m not sure where she came from, but she had been called by Rui’s friend. True to his word, the discount was extreme – about two-thirds off of what we’d seen upstairs just as he’d said – and she showed us two models. They weren’t exactly what I was looking for and so she left and returned again, this time with my desired model as well as another brand that she began to try to talk me into buying.

Rui explained to me in English that this was a common ploy: try to talk the buyer into something else because there is a greater profit margin on the other item and the discount is too low on the item the shopper desires. When I still wanted the same one after her sales pitch, she upped her price by fifty kuai saying there’s no way they could sell it to me for the price originally offered.

I was shocked. Usually discounts stay discounts, but now it was going backwards?

In English again, I asked Rui what was going on. He explained that this was her way of trying to block our purchase and that she probably wasn’t going to go down to the original price. I decided to just pay the extra fifty kuai and buy the one I wanted.

[Here in this market, English was the language that we were speaking as it allowed us the privacy to comment on what was happening without being understood by the vendors. I know it’s not safe to make that assumption, but it seemed to be working in our favour.]

Another thing to consider here is the different between “real” items and “knock off” items. Since this is the place where these things are made, it’s also where products are manufactured to “look like” the real thing. Rui’s friend demonstrated the difference between a real USB memory stick and a knock off one. When he held them up the only difference I could see was that the plastic casing was a little thicker on the knock off version. He explained, though, that the 2gig space on the knock off one was really just about 1gig, whereas the real ones had the full amount of space on them.

When it came to the camera, Rui insisted it be in the original box, sealed and dated by the manufacturer. He sent the woman back for a brand new box and I would never have thought of that. In Canada, the stores all carry new items (or so I imagined!) and they always come in their boxes. Had he not been there, I probably would have been sold a knock off.

In the end, this camera cost me the equivalent of $160 Canadian and I’m thrilled to no longer have to borrow a camera (though, thanks Dave for loaning me yours!) I still have no idea which stall this woman worked at or why we never went to her! I also left the market with some USB memory sticks, two USB hubs and all of the appropriate cabling and memory cards that I needed. I probably saved over $100 Canadian on all of my items thanks to Rui’s connections and bargaining. That doesn’t even count the savings that I automatically experience by buying these items here instead of at home. So, no complaints.

It took over four hours.

(I’m just sayin’…)

I was looking for some other items too, but going back again makes my bones tired. Maybe the next time I’m in Beijing.

I suppose if I want to expand my electronics inventory here in China, I’d better learn how to play some video games!