My veggie market

On the alleyway where I live is a small vegetable market. It is owned by a young man, but he hasn't been there much lately. His dad has been running the shop most of the time. The grandpa looks older in person than he does in the above photo. He's taking a breather here while his son takes over for a few hours. The elderly chap is quite friendly in a low-key kind of way.

The little shop technically ends where the shelving ends, but they have baskets of other veggies extending out onto the sidewalk.

 A view of the veggies up a little closer.

Across the street is a fruit market. I don't eat much fruit, so I go here less often.

Photography day

If I didn't go outside until all my work was done, I'd never see the light of day…I'd never see the moon either, come to think of it. So today I decided the work could wait. I needed an outing. So I took my camera (which is technically part of my work) and headed out.

 Here is part of the city skyline; the photo was taken from atop the old city wall.

 Canals run through the city.

 Skyscrapers, rivers, and many, many bridges

A lonely little tea shop atop the city wall had no customers, just two pet birds sitting out in the shade and breeze.

 Thank you God for making so many flowers pink! I truly love them.

Water, rocks, trees, flowers, humongous goldfish, pagodas, tea houses -- a little slice of Chinese paradise.

 Pagoda -- I can see this from the balcony at my apartment.

 Rooftops

A steaming cup of green tea to quench my thirst at an outdoor tea shop ends my outing in the best, most relaxing possible way. Thermoses like the ugly blue one pictured are the world's most superb thermoses. Ask anyone who has been to China and they'll confirm. Anyway, the tea shop gave me a cup with green tea leaves and a thermos. If I wanted, I could sit there all day and refill my cup with the thermos's steaming hot water.

I really must find a way to do this more often. 

Will leap tall buildings if necessary

The screams were unbearable to hear. The dog sounded like she was dying. Was she caught in some patio furniture or railing, or was she being beaten to death? I couldn't stay sitting at my computer, I had to get up and see what was going on.

I ran to the bathroom window, my eyes searching directly downstairs, toward the facing building, to a certain first-floor apartment patio, the one that belongs to the man I had already labeled in my mind as the dog butcher. I expected to see this 70-ish year old man standing over a dead dog and blood spatter. Yes, it was quite that bad.

There he was, on the patio. I could hear the dog's screams, and I could see the man, but tall bushes obscured my view. Then I saw the man raise his arm with wire whip in hand, and continue pummeling the dog in his "care."

Fortunately, I was wearing sports shoes. I ran to my front door, flung it open, and waited for the elevator to climb eight floors to get me. I really wanted to fly down the stairs, but having timed it previously, I knew it was faster to wait for the elevator. I wondered if I would get there in time to save the dog's life.

I ran out the first floor lobby door, leaped over landscaping boulders into the dry stone creek bed and out the other side. I threw out my arms and screamed as I came up out of the creek. My neighbors had never seen me in superman mode before.

I hadn't even seen my other neighbors at first. Two Chinese neighbor ladies were standing on a bridge that spans the creek; it is the distance they felt was safest to observe the dog torture going on. They saw me with rage on my face, and they told me to stay back with them. Chinese never want to get involved. The man could have been beating his wife and they still would have stood back at a distance to watch.

I am not going to let a dog die because I am too timid to stand up to the old man. I forged ahead and went to his shrub-obscured patio. I was fully ready to wrestle him to the ground if I needed to, and was even a little disappointed that it didn't come to that.

About the same time the ladies were telling me to hang back, a 30-something Chinese man still in his pajamas at 10:00 a.m. starting shrieking at the old man from his third floor balcony of my building. Hostile words were being exchanged by the two men. I didn't catch the words, so I don't know if the young man was just bothered by the noise or the fact that an animal was being tortured. I'm pretty sure he has a dog himself, so I hope it was the latter.

I peeked through the shrubs surrounding the butcher's patio, even as the ladies back on the bridge were still whispering and telling me to come back. I noticed that the poor little dog, no blood visible, had cowered into a corner with eyes looking down, clearly scared to death of the man towering over her.

"What's going on?" I asked rather innocently in Chinese. The man left the dog alone, and came over. He was nice to me. He said his dog had nibbled someone's calf and he had no choice but to beat the dog. He assured me he liked dogs. I was pleasant, but I suggested perhaps he had beaten the dog a little too long. (That sounds awful in English, but comes across better in Chinese. Of course it is not good that he had tortured the dog at all.) He started talking to me in long sentences in an unfamiliar dialect. I told him I wasn't understanding everything he said.

Meanwhile, the two ladies on the bridge were worried the foreigner woman needed some help, and were perhaps a little ashamed that they hadn't been bold enough to intervene. One of them came over to talk with us and be the peacemaker, if that was needed. I left while she finished talking to the old guy. This particular lady is offbeat but awesome; her own dog died of natural causes recently, and she feeds and gives water to all the wild cats in the neighborhood every single day.

The torture having ceased, I returned home. On the way back, a neighbor man who owns a brown poodle walked by and gave me an approving smile. Apparently all the neighbors had been watching everything from inside their homes. I have a feeling that "the foreign woman leaping over boulders to rescue a dog" will be the conversation at many a dinner table tonight.

By the time I got back home, the third floor guy had gotten dressed, and he went over to talk to the mean guy on the patio (hopefully to talk some sense into him). Another lady walking a brown poodle -- there are lots and lots of brown poodles in this complex -- yelled a conversation with the old man from the bridge.

It was quite the neighborhood incident. The mean guy CLEARLY knows that his neighbors are very unhappy with him and his treatment of his dog. It has been a few hours, and my adrenaline still seems to be coursing through my veins.

Let not this point get lost in the story -- 99 percent of the people around me wouldn't hurt a flea. One misdirected man should not reflect on any of his countrymen.

Four or five years ago, I saw that the mean man was standing over a plywood table on his patio, and there were cuts of meat on the table. I never saw his two dogs after that, so I came up with a theory that he killed his own dogs. My Chinese friends think I am crazy; they think no one could do something like that. But I disagree. I think the man could be some kind of dog-hurting psychopath. 

TV

My TV options are limited. But I know your choices are limited too. You may have hundreds of channels, but sometimes nothing good is on when you sit down to watch.

Currently, it is a tie for my favorite show (all reruns):

• Sell This House - Extreme Edition
• NCIS

I also watch American Idol. I keep thinking I'll stop watching that show, but it hooks me in every time.

CNN International is my main news source, although I get to see NBC news with Brian Williams, and BBC. CNN is on most of the time, even for background noise. I had to turn it off more in recent months because the news was just too depressing (missing airplane, ferry disaster, all affecting East Asians more than any other group).

Sometimes if I am going to be gone all day, I leave the TV on with the sound low so Mimi will have some "company."

But right now, the TV is off. I have no way to know this for sure, but I think I love silence more than most people.

SHANGHAI - A picture is worth a thousand words, and doesn't require spellcheck

I really love this place.

Ripping down Shanghai

My first trip to Shanghai was in 1997. I loved the city, but was quite disappointed in their shopping selections. The department stores sold poor quality clothing, and there were few imported items (i.e., items I might find while shopping in the U.S.). I had expected the "big city" to have more advanced options like Hong Kong had at the time. Shanghai did have fancy hotels and even a Tony Roma's steakhouse, but overall, things were fairly poor even in Shanghai. That has all changed now. It is hard to find things in Shanghai that look poor, unless you try really hard and travel out to the extreme suburbs. But I did find one neighborhood near downtown that still looked rather old; it is getting torn down though, so it won't be looking old for long. I decided to take some photos before it is too late to see the old Shanghai.

This scene looks like it could be from almost anywhere in China, but you won't be seeing much more of this in Shanghai.

In the far back, the pencil-point building is the J.W. Marriot hotel, and the spaceship building is the Radisson hotel. So this is not terribly far from the main downtown area. The foreground shows the demolition of concrete three-story homes behind a concrete wall construction barrier. No doubt, high-rise buildings will take over this prime real-estate. I bet those pinkish buildings won't last another ten years before someone tears them down to build something nicer.

The corner store is no more.

More on Shanghai again tomorrow.

Favorite city

It's a close call, but if I had to choose my favorite city in the world, I think I would choose Shanghai. I love it there. Hong Kong is a very close second. They are both really great cities. One advantage that Shanghai has for me is that people there speak Mandarin. What luck, so do I! It is also more spread out, thus less crowded than Hong Kong (unless you are out on a holiday or weekend, which I try to avoid; both cities are uncomfortably crowded on weekends).

 Shanghai has an eclectic mix of old and new.

It's a very green city, with lots of parks scattered throughout town. It's quite a beautiful place.

Here's a quick look at the traffic. (Those of you who have been to Bedrock will note that Shanghai has orderly traffic, unlike the chaotic traffic of smaller cities.)

Well, looky there, Nicole Kidman is on a billboard, selling watches, greeting drivers as they drive near the center of town.

 Tall, elegant buildings can be seen as far as you can see. Farther actually.

Yes, it's true. You can worship God and get your chocolate fix all in one outing. More on Shanghai in my next post.

Happy Mother's Day!

My grandmother Ruth Price is front center. Left to right are my aunt Lynnell Wyatt, my mom Mary, and my aunt Nan Senn. This was taken in the 1950s.

 My mom, Mary.

Getting there isn't half the fun -- it's no fun at all

I am about about to tell you something that will earn me no sympathy at all: I only have to set my alarm two times a week and I only have to make morning commutes those two days. One of those days is Sunday.

I am about to tell you something that ought to earn me sympathy though, if you have any feelings at all: I have no car. And I live in a place where it rains a whole lot.

Here are my options for getting across town to meet with like-minded people on Sunday mornings, and how those options are affected by rain:

Commute Option #1

E-bike. My preferred transportation is my e-bike. When my meeting is over I can roam around and take in different scenery. But when it rains, this option is really terrible. If I only had to go a few blocks, I could endure, but all the way across town? No way. The rain poncho worn by e-bikers is not efficient at keeping rain off your face and out of your eyes. I would arrive looking and feeling like a drowned rat. Ask me how I know. I am not good company when this occurs.

Commute Option #2

Subway. Subways are nice enough, but getting to and from the subway stations is the hard part. From the time I leave my door to the time I am at the subway platform takes at least 20 minutes by foot. It is a rough 20 minutes though, dodging cars, bikes, street vendors, crazy people on a narrow street. If it rains, it takes slightly longer and is more dangerous.

Once I arrive at the subway station platform, I may have to wait 10 minutes between trains. The subway trip across town takes 20 or more minutes. When I get to the other end of town, I have to walk another 10-15 minutes to get where I'm going. You do the math. This gets to be obnoxious, especially the part about walking in the rain for so long. And the math.

Commute Option #3

Taxis. Taxis are nice. Someone else does the driving, you just sit in back and relax. But finding a taxi is hard in good weather, and might-near impossible when it is raining. And if I do get lucky and find a taxi, then when I get to the other part of town, I may not find a taxi back home. I have waited for taxis for an hour or longer before.

If I am choosing the taxi option, then when I leave home I go to the main road, to the south of where I live. If I can't find a taxi, usually it is too late to go with a back-up plan -- the subway is the opposite direction.

Rainy commutes are very stressful. I had a rainy taxi commute this past Sunday.

Here I am waiting for a taxi. I'm on the curb between the bike path and the main road. See my umbrella at the top of the photo?

 E-bikes zoom by. 

Buses zoom by. 

Not a taxi in sight.

The Import Grocery Store

Once upon a time when I lived in Bedrock, there were no grocery stores. No, not one.

I remember being in Bedrock during the summer of 1996. At the time, I lived in Hong Kong, but had felt led to move to Bedrock later that fall. I asked some of Bedrock's university students to go with me in a taxi (rickety van) to give me a tour of the grocery stores in town, so I'd know what to expect once I moved to Bedrock.

I explained to the students that I was looking for the store where they sold things to eat. I tried to explain packaged groceries, but the students' English level wasn't that developed, and I worried that my meaning got lost in translation. We drove around town for hours, and they seemed frustrated that the muddy outdoor markets were not meeting my standards for "grocery store." It finally dawned on me after several hours that there WERE NO GROCERY STORES in that entire county of 10 million people. I recall that to be a very, very, very sobering moment for me, because I had already decided to move there. How in the world could I live in a city without a single packaged item of food? I would soon learn. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. When I lived in Bedrock, I stood in line at the pig butcher's shed every Saturday morning. I rode my bike through mud several inches deep to buy veggies at the most primitive market you can imagine. Though Coke and Snickers don't qualify as food, they were oddly available and I would consume more of those than any person reasonably should. But these were not reasonable circumstances.

Every time I would leave to go to some place like Shanghai or Hong Kong (even America), I would go to import grocery stores and buy Betty Crocker cake mixes, macaroni and cheese mixes, hamburger helper, canned tuna, mayonnaise, cookies, chips, canned goods, spaghetti noodles, tomato sauce and anything I could find that would make my life easier. I would mail back as many as possible, and the items rejected by the post office (breakable items) found their way back to Bedrock inside my suitcases. Thus my suitcases were extremely heavy; I would either pull my back out trying to get these up five flights of stairs, or I would pay my taxi driver to help me carry it up.

Around the turn of the century, Fu Mart came to town. It was a Chinese-style Wal-Mart store, and it had a tiny import section. Sometimes we could buy popcorn, tuna and spaghetti noodles. I continued to buy groceries in the bigger cities, but I didn't have to buy quite as much in the big cities as I had in the early days.

At that time, there were no local online stores as there are today. Today, if I lived in Bedrock, I could order some packaged food items and have them delivered to my door. But this was not possible when I lived there.

So now I live in a city that has lots of foreigners, and it has import grocery stores. I try to go every now and then to buy some things to make my life easier. I can't afford to go there for everything, so the markets are still my main source of food.

You'll see that the carts at the import grocery store are not very large. They don't expect you to buy much, I guess. And cost is not the only reason you don't want to buy much. You do have to carry that basket of groceries up a flight of stairs to check out, and then somehow you have to get it home way across town without having a car.

But frankly, cost is the real deterrent to excessive spending at the import grocery stores. See these bottles of Clorox. They are 299 RMB each. And let me tell you, 299 RMB is equal to $50 U.S. dollars. FIFTY U.S. DOLLARS for a bottle of Clorox! (Did you just pass out when I said that?) And there are expat housewives that are stupid rich enough to buy this stuff, just because it is familiar looking, not realizing that the exact same kind of nice-smelling bleach is available at Chinese grocery stores under a Chinese label for about a dollar or two.

How many bottles of $50 Clorox have I ever purchased? If you said "none," you are correct.