Monday, July 28, 2008

prickly like a cactus



this is the market street up the block from me. it's about a heartbeat away from my friend steph's place, too.

i was walking home from the bus one night when i stopped by to pick up some fruit from one of the stalls that actually stays open late, and noticed the joint was swarming with gray-uniformed officials. i mean, swarming. there were groups of 8-10 all over the place. then i noticed that not only were a disproportionate amount of stalls closed, quite a few had were boards nailed across them with some sort of official notices plastered across. a few of the stalls were being bricked over as i watched. it was some sort of freaky scene from a movie. poof! and things disappear here overnight.

so i wandered by last week and the market is a ghost town. there is one guy selling pork, another stall with seafood, and about 3 stalls with produce of some kind. this used to be the liveliest place in my hood (which is saying a lot - it's a congested area). and i'm not even the biggest wet market fan. i generally think they stink and are unhygienic, and people try to ride over your feet or your entire person with their scooters and bikes, making you want to beat them with the pig leg hanging in that unrefrigerated stall next to you, covered in flies. the occasional car is stupid enough to try and drive down the street, too. but i would be amiss if i didn't also point out that these marketplaces are the sole livelihood of a lot of people, not to mention where the neighborhood does its shopping. if it's not captivating, clean, and beautiful, it's at least functional and i'm sure more than a few people were dependent on its existence.

there's no doubt it's because of the 5-ring circus going down in the capital in august. facades are being erected over storefronts overnight, places are getting spiffed up or spit out or just plain closed the hell down. people are getting rolled on - with a quickness. at my friend jill's apartment complex (a nice one with lots of foreigners) the other morning as she was leaving for work, cops set up a checkpoint at her complex gates and were stopping all the visibly non-asian people from leaving and asking for their residence permits. this pink slip of tissue-like paper is the key to your existence here, apparently. mine is buried somewhere in my tv cabinet, i think (luckily i 'pass' and don't normally get harassed.) 48 hours after moving into a new residence, foreigners are required to register at their nearest police station, like child molesters. military state, this place. anyway, jill saw one foreign girl detained because she didn't have her paper on her since she'd crashed at her boyfriend's place. the police wouldn't let her go, saying that she has to register at the police station even for an overnight.

it's just silly is what it is.

lots of things are changing now. the dvd places aren't worth a damn (ok fine, i get it, but it's annoying), the regulations on mail are ludicrous, and the air in beijing is still filthy and making international headlines.

in other news... steph's company is throwing some big bash (or someone they know is throwing a big bash, or there's just a big bash in general) and will have her own apartment in beijing for a weekend during the olympics, so the girls are all planning on flying up there and joining the madness. i've been scared of being in beijing during the games, but i guess at this point i just do like the romans, grab my stupid pink paper, and join the throngs.

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