Archive for March 23rd, 2008

Beijing Olympic – Fast Food In Beijing

Sunday, March 23rd, 2008

I know a few ex-pats, mostly Americans, who go a little crazy at the very thought of a Big Mac, French fries, and medium coke. Don’t get me wrong: most Westerners love Chinese food, but after a certain number of months of subsisting on white rice and “gongbao jiding” — that most popular of all dishes with the foreign community, spicy chicken with peanuts — everyone starts craving some variety and a hit of home. Fortunately, fast food outlets, Western-style, have sprung up all over Beijing in the past few years, as they have done in most other large Chinese cities.

The first thing you need to know about fast food in China is that it’s an upscale event, a fashionable way to spend the evening, and depending where you go, a good deal more expensive than “real” restaurants — quite different in this regard from fast food in America, where it was invented for the express purpose of being casual, convenient, and cheap.

McDonald’s is the oldest and most widely established Western fast-food franchise in China, and you will see Beijing families by the score eating exotic hamburgers and taking photographs of each other in front of that red-headed clown, Ronald. 1996 saw the demolition of the flagship two-story McDonald’s outlet at the end of Wangfujing Avenue — a Golden Arch franchise that was so popular, many Westerners called the entire avenue the “McDonald’s Street.” The demise of this landmark was a sad event for McDonald’s addicts, but do not fear — by the end of 1997, there will be 200 Golden Arches spread around Beijing, and you will never be far from your favorite Happy Meal. I had the Big Mac/medium fries/medium drink combo at the Wangfujing branch on the last weekend of its operation for 19.50 yuan (which is about the price of most of the other combo meals as well). My verdict: Almost like McDonald’s back home, but perhaps not quite as good.

The second most popular franchise in Beijing is KFC. The Colonel with his white goatee and spectacles can be found looking out upon Chinese streets in dozens of locations, and a chicken sandwich, a drink and fries will set you back 19.50 yuan. If you are hungry for the more traditional KFC fare — fried chicken with mashed potatoes, cole slaw, a drink, and one of those astonishingly tasteless white bread rolls, this will cost from 20 to 28 yuan depending on how many pieces of chicken you get. All the Western-style fast food outlets in Beijing pride themselves on absolutely un-Chinese cleanliness, and it is generally impossible to walk up a flight of stairs without tripping over an employee with a mop. But in KFC, I have found, there is usually someone with a wet mop at the entrance, and many people take a moment to clean the bottom of their shoes on it. (Be careful of the slippery floor, by the way!)

Pizza Hut has 7 locations in Beijing, and this is the most upscale of all the local fast food outlets — it is far beyond the budget of most Chinese families. I found the pizza itself decidedly mediocre, but the salad bar is a real Western treat — the same iceberg lettuce, canned peaches, unnaturally bright green peas, and plastic “sneeze-guard” that you will find in Any Small Town, America. But it’s not cheap — 21 yuan for a very small wooden bowl, and the waitress lets you know that this is one-serving only. My wife and I had a large cheese pizza, two salads, and two small drinks and the bill came to 110 yuan — about $14, what you would expect to pay in the States, but for this price in Beijing you can buy a very gourmet meal indeed.

Fast food outlets seem to be opening as quick as you can blink in Beijing. If you feel like listening to country music, you can have BBQ ribs and rotisserie chicken at one of the several Kenny Rogers about town. The side dishes are especially good here — baked beans, macaroni salad, corn-on-the-cob, and many more. Dunkin’ Donuts has four locations at the moment, but there are plans for several more. Or if you would rather have a mug of root beer, there is an A & W in the Haidian District (opposite People’s University), with three more restaurants in the works. There are also two Subway franchises where you can have a 6 inch or 12 inch sub, on wheat or white, just like you would at home — a Ham and Cheese sub, just to give you an idea, will set you back 12 yuan for the small, and 19 for the large.

So no one need starve in Beijing. Personally I prefer the local Chinese food for my steady fare — it is fresher, tastier, healthier, and vastly less expensive. But for those moments of culinary homesickness, it is nice to know that empty calories are so close at hand.

(Source: ebeijing.gov.cn)

Chinese Culture – Rongbaozhai(1)

Sunday, March 23rd, 2008

Located at the western end of Liulichang Street, Beijing , Rongbaozhai (the “Studio of Glorious Treasures”) is famous for both its collection of calligraphy and paintings that spans centuries, and its excellent array of the “four treasures of the study” (brushes, ink, paper and ink stones).

The studio deals in paintings, calligraphic works, carvings and seals by famous figures, especially the block prints found on watercolors. Today it has preserved a dozen valuable works including a Tianhuang seal and a piece of Tianhuang stone weighing 4,275 grams, the heaviest of its kind in the world.

  History

Currently one of the most illustrious traditional art galleries in China, Rongbaozhai’s birth was far humbler — and some might even call it secretive.

The shop at Liulichang opened in 1894 when China’s ruling Qing Dynasty (1644-1911) was collapsing under its own weight and foreign powers were grabbing larger and larger slices of the nation.

But Rongbaozhai’s roots go back much deeper: beginning with the establishment of its predecessor, Songzhuzhai, more than 300 years ago.

The story began with the Zhang family of Chunshu Lane in Beijing. Renowned papermakers, they owned and operated Songzhuzhai.

Songzhuzhai mainly sold art and writing paper to the literati. All the paper used in the imperial civil service examinations was selected and made by Songzhuzhai. This, of course, gave the shop great prestige and promoted the sale of its goods.

Zhang Yangshan inherited Songzhuzhai during the reign of Emperor Daoguang (1821-1850). However during the time the shop was in his care the job of providing paper for the imperial examinations was taken away and given to rival shop-owner, Yiwenzhai.

It was the beginning of a nightmare. Before long, Zhang Yangshan died, it is said, of anger and hatred. His only son died in his prime. Songzhuzhai was heavily in debt and the burden of the family fell onto the shoulder of Zhang Yangshan’s daughter-in-law, whose family name was Li.

Ms. Li had no choice but to hire a manager, and Zhuang Huchen became the first hired manager of Songzhuzhai. His contract stated that he was to get half the shop’s profit, an equal sharing scheme that was all but unheard of at the time.

An artist of the studio is restoring an ancient painting

Zhuang Huchen was a typical successful Chinese businessman — he had a close relationship with the governor as well as rich and varied experiences in business.With the permission of Ms. Li, Zhuang Huchen ordered one of the shop’s employees to circulate rumors that Songzhuzhai had lost too much money to survive and would soon be closing its doors forever. Meanwhile, he bought a building at No. 86 Liulichang. All the shop’s best antiques, paintings, calligraphy, brushes and ink were secretly transported to the new location in the dark of night. To outsiders, it appeared that Songzhuzhai had no assets save for its name. It was only a matter of time before it declared bankruptcy.

Rongbaozhai opened for business at No. 86 Liulichang in 1894.

Liulichang was already well known as one of the city’s cultural centers, so the new location provided fertile ground for Rongbaozhai’s growth. It wasn’t long before the new shop was overtaking its competitors.

The year 1900 was not a good one for Beijing. It suffered the misfortune of invasion and occupation by the Eight-Power Allied Forces. But Beijing’s misfortune turned out to be Rongbaozhai’s good fortune.

Famous painter Qi Baish

The German forces occupied Liulichang, and most owners closed their shops and left. But Zhuang Huchen and some of the other owners and managers negotiated with the invaders and managed to protect the street. When Emperor Guangxu returned to Beijing and saw Liulichang standing safe and almost unharmed, he gave Zhuang Huchen a civil service appointment as a grade-seven official.The prestigious position gave Zhuang several advantages over the competition.

Zheng Maoda, a specialist in Rongbaozhai’s history, says, “He was appointed to keep the roll of Beijing officials, which listed their names and personal information. It was an important document, a sort of ‘Who’s Who in Beijing Government.’”

Zhuang’s position was the envy of other shop owners, who were not permitted to enter the Forbidden City or to wear the ceremonial robes of office.

He made sure he kept the information in the roll updated and accurate, and the workmanship on the printed document was exquisite. Zhuang’s “Roll of Officialdom” soon became a bestseller among bureaucrats and courtiers new to Beijing.

As Zhuang Huchen grew old, he had the pleasure of watching Rongbaozhai develop into one of the most prosperous stores on Liulichang Street.

In 1922, a decade after the founding of the Republic of China , a new manager took over the helm of Rongbaozhai. Wang Renshan had grown up in the shop, serving his apprenticeship there and moving rapidly up the ladder of promotion, eventually to deftly steer Rongbaozhai through the rough waters of the young republic.

Since the Qing Dynasty, most of Beijing’s painting and calligraphy shops had been concentrated along Liulichang. Artists hoping to sell their works were eager to have them hanging on Rongbaozhai’s walls, knowing that the store’s reputation would mean almost certain sales.

When he first arrived in Beijing, Qi Baishi — eventually to become one of modern China’s most famous artists — could hardly give his paintings away. Because of their guileless simplicity, and because of Qi’s humble beginnings as a carpenter, at best, Beijingers ignored him, or at worst, they laughed at him.

But when Wang Renshan saw his paintings, his sharp eye spotted the talent that the others had missed. He accepted all of Qi’s works and hung them in the most conspicuous spots in the shop. Gradually, Qi Baishi gained fame, and in the process he forged an indestructible bond with Rongbaozhai.

In 1927, Nanjing became the seat of China’s government and the nation’s economic center gradually moved south as well. The name of Beijing — “Northern Capital” — was changed to Beiping — “Northern Peace.”

The astute Wang Renshan, seeing that the wealthy and powerful had moved south, was quick to open branches of Rongbaozhai in Nanjing and Shanghai .

Wang Renshan and the shop prospered for a time, but the situation took a drastic turn for the worse. Beiping was occupied in August 1937 by the Japanese, and Shanghai fell in November. The Nanjing branch of Rongbaozhai, where most of the stock was kept, seemed to have escaped harm for a while. But in December 1937, the Nanjing Massacre began. The Nanjing branch of the shop was ransacked.

Once again, as it had been in its days as Songzhuzhai, the shop was heavily in debt and on the brink of bankruptcy. But after the founding of the People’s Republic of China , and with the avid support of many artists and other cultural experts, Rongbaozhai was reorganized. In 1950, it became a public-private joint ownership company.

The 27-year-old Hou Kai, a former military officer, became the new manager of Rongbaozhai.

At the CPC’s Eighth Party Congress in 1956, Chairman Mao Zedong set out a new policy: “Let a hundred flowers bloom, let a hundred schools of thought contend.” Collecting art, far from being considered a bourgeois tendency, was encouraged. Rongbaozhai thrived once again, not only as a gallery of excellent art but also as a gathering place for famous painters and calligraphers.

Rongbaozhai was finally back on the right track.

  Collectors

One morning in 1964, a young man brought a package to Rongbaozhai and said that he wanted to sell it. When the shop assistant opened the package, his jaw dropped. Inside were more than 30 paintings and calligraphic works, many of them state-level cultural relics. There were pieces by Su Shi, a poet and calligrapher of the Northern Song Dynasty (960-1127); Fan Zhongyan, a prominent statesman, strategist, educator and writer of the Northern Song; and Mi Fu, one of the four most important calligraphers of the Song Dynasty (960-1279). The most valuable piece in the collection was the Shaoxi Poem Scroll by Mi Fu.

Zheng Maoda, who was a specialist in Rongbaozhai’s history, said, “These works are important cultural treasures of the nation, and their value can’t be measured in money. That young man asked for 1,500 yuan (US$181) for them, far below their actual value. But the appraisers knew from experience that if they gave him more than he asked, he would be confused or even scared, and might run off with the pieces.”

Rongbaozhai bought those priceless treasures for just 1,400 yuan (US$169).

In the first half of the 20th century, China was in turmoil and its government frequently changed. The relics and treasures originally hoarded in the Forbidden City or nobles’ mansions were scattered throughout the country.

(Source: chinaculture.org)

Chinese Conversation – Lesson 24

Sunday, March 23rd, 2008

大多数美国人说他们几乎每天都有锻炼。步行是最受喜爱的锻炼,游泳其次。骑自行车非常流行,跑步和慢跑也是。其他受欢迎的运动是棒球,橄榄球和垒球。

Most Americans say they exercise almost every day. Walking is the favorite exercise. Swimming comes next. Biking is very popular, and so are running or jogging. The other favorites are baseball, football, and softball.

(Source: wwenglish.com)