Dongjiao Market

I was not a happy bunny when I woke up this morning considering that the first thought that seeped into my sleep-blurred consciousness was my plan to go into the office. Well, strictly speaking I didn't HAVE to, but the fact that work anxiety has been the root of my mini panic attacks over the past few days, I thought better grab the bull by its horns and put my nose down for a few solid hours of work. Of course, seeing that most of the country is still technically on holiday, I didn't see why it would hurt to go to work after lunch. And since I'm such a darling / corporate ass-kisser, I figured that I deserved to reward myself with a couple of hours of retail therapy in the morning to cheer myself up.

Beijing is a city as detestable as everywhere else after a while. The first six months are pure laughs but then suddenly everything about this city start to annoy you, at first like an itch begging to be scratched and then eventually - on particularly horrendous days when you've been bumped in the queue twice during your first half hour out of the house, narrowly missed being spat on by a laotou'r living out the last of his pneumonia-ridden days or when the year round zhuangxiu in the flat above begins its daily chorus at 6am with all drills, hammers and saws a-blazing - Beijing Burnout engulfs you in an explosive ball of fire.

That said, none of us would last very long if all we saw was the negative side of life in the Jing. (Although, admittedly, it is sometimes difficult to see anything but) Come to think of it, most of us ride out 9 - 12 months before biting the Red Dust. Anyhow, as I was saying, Beijing is a city as detestable as any other. And like other places we call home, even if for a while, it is the small things and the people we meet that give us reason to stay. Personally, it is the knowledge that I can find affordable and pretty shoes away from the tourist traps of Yaxiu, Hongqiao and Xiushui at the Dongjiao Wholesale Market.

Dongjiao is located south of the old SOHO Building and is easily accessible by subway. I guessed with the National Day holidays the subway system wouldn't be too congested. Even so I was pleasantly surprised at how empty the Dongsi Shitiao subway station was at 10:00 am.

Why can't everyday be like today?

My delight was shortlived though when I got to the Jianguomen interchange and it felt like all of China descended upon that station. My attempts to stand clear of the carriage door were thwarted by the dozens of commuters pushing forward - I can just imagine them as sperm swimming towards the ovum during insemination and beating the crap out of each other to get there first. When the doors slid open, the musty smell of unwashed bodies floated out even before the passengers fought their way through. Perfume and fragrance sellers, as well as the population at large, could really benefit from an all-out marketing offensive in this country.

I got out at Dangwanglu Station. I couldn't remember how far I had to walk to get to Dongjiao so I hopped into one of the motorised trishaws hanging around the exit. These things are wicked if a little rickety and they could sure use better suspension. But they're great for ultra short distances and get you to your destination at RMB5 a pop.

Inside looking out

I got dropped off by the entrance of the humongous Dongjiao Pifa Shichang and was greeted by the sight of 3 security guards dragging and pushing a (presumably unauthorised) sweet potato seller's cart away with the female proprietor protesting every step of the way. It was quite pathetic to see that it took three men to lead one woman and her sweet potatoes away, one of them giving the back of her bicycle a ferocious kick now and again. I've also seen it outside my old residence at Jiaodaokou when a group of security guards ganged up on a woman illegally peddling goods at the gate. They grabbed her stuff, pushed her to the ground a few times but each time she jumped up and ran at them, screaming to give her things back. Stark contrast of cowardice and feistiness if there ever was one.

To get to Dongjiao Market proper I had to walk along a road with stalls selling everything you can imagine at everyday low prices - chicken cutlets, mobile phone trinkets, woven furniture, terrapins, dog food, roasted chestnuts, Xinjiang raisins, faux crystal, hair bobbles, kitchen utensils, garden shears, dumbells, bicycles ... all along a relatively short stretch. You have to see it to believe it. After that I wove my way through a car park which also housed a fish market and made a beeline for warehouse-esque structure beyond the gateway.

Gateway to new shoes - and probably everything else you need

Once inside, I had to locate stall no. 729 which meant passing the countless alleys crammed to the brim with stationary, hair curlers, underwear, ice cream and snacks, hula hoops, bedspreads, bathroom slippers and to the shoe section where I proceeded to dodge stall handlers trying to lure me into buying counterfeit Li Ning badminton trainers. It was like a military drill. I finally earned my stripes and found my girl who, to my relief, had a respectable selection of shoes just in. Prices weren't dirt cheap but they were reasonable for pretty and decent shoes without the hard sell. I came away with 3 pairs of shoes and a pair of boots to last me for the rest of the year, all for RMB415 with almost no bargaining.

I left Dongjiao feeling very chuffed with myself and not dreading the office quite as much as I did in the morning. I decided to walk back to the subway station because it really wasn't that far and also because I wanted to check out the area a little. Not that there is a scenic route to speak of, probably the most green to be found was in the algae floating in the canal that ran parallel to market. There were a few anglers on the bank (do canals have banks?) who must have been feeling more optimistic that I'll ever be if I were given a fishing rod and told to catch something from the waterway.

Venice it ain't...

Mutated freshwater salamander ahoy!

A little up the road and on the other side of a street stood a donkey and its cartload of pears from from the countryside. Along the dusty excuse for a pavement, groups of migrant workers hunched over chess games and another girl paid up some money to have a go at the Chinese tarot cards. An old lady called out to me to have my face read and my fortune told. And in the background loomed the SOHO apartments and business buildings with their shiny shops, HK dim sum eateries and Yoshinoyas. I brushed past a disaffected looking young man in a worn suit and a peasant mother with her 3 grubby children wondering why the urchins weren't at school and then went on my merry way.