Steaming on, Hongquiao Pearl

After the Temple of Heaven, I was ready to head home, but when I emerged I found I was across the street from the Hongquiao Pearl Market, the tourist stuff market extraordinaire. I had decided that I did not want pearls, ripoff watches,clothes, or bags, but I had wanted to pick up a silk scarf as a gift. Not only can you not make eye contact with a sales person, but you can't show any interest, even a glance, at any of the wares or they will stick to you like, well, you know. It takes planning and fortitude to manage these situations-- not weariness! I escaped with only minor damage due mainly to not having brought much cash. 
They work hard to learn some English to do-- this? Maybe it is limited, scarf-selling English, and not up to conversation. But still. The number of people who have fairly menial jobs for which they need to speak some English is amazing.

Beauty 5 All Salon

It is unkind and presumptuous to pile on with funny chinglish, especially since we don't know enough Mandarin to even begin to make mistakes. But I saw a beauty parlor called Beauty 5 All , a new twist.

And, seen on the street-- a huge hospital called the Beijing Hospital of Femoral Head. Quite specialized! And the best menu item I spotted, Spicy Aborigines.(aubergines, I hope)


It seems at every site, I see the same group of elderly Chinese tourists wearing Burberry-patterned cotton bucket hats. They don't seem to have a tour guide. Forbidden City, Summer Palace, Temple of Heaven-- they cover the ground, sweating through the days in good spirits.

minding the store

Below, some more hutong pictures. The one that I couldn't/didn't take because it felt invasive, was through one off these doorways in the evening, I could see a group of men playing cards under a light in the coutyard. It was a very painterly scene, and very evocative of the way things are. Who knows how much longer this life will last? What was most striking was how proximity seemed to build a sense of community that we don't have. Romanticizing that kind of neighborhood can be a snare and a delusion: there are always bad or dysfunctional people. Maybe when you live cheek-by-jowl, you learn tolerance, or at least to not be bristly about things you can't really control.

midmorning lull

 Behind the shops and noodle joints are living quarters. Courtyard houses that once housed an extended family have been subdivided to house many families.













Produce is delivered to the shops, and customers crowd around. There is a smell of breakfast-- soup noodles, frying dumplings, fried bread and eggs.