This second post in my series of posts introducing Chinese foods will be dedicated to Baozi (包子, pronounced “bao tze”), a type of food very popular among both locals and foreigners. Baozi are basically lumps of steamed dough with some filling - usually a combination of minced meat and vegetables:

baozi in Sichuan province

The picture is of baozi in Sichuan province. In general, the baozi in the southern areas of China are bigger than their northern counterparts and have a thicker outer layer. The typical way of making Baozi is steaming them:

xiao-long baozi being steamed

The picture above is actually not of baozi but of its smaller “cousin”, xiaolong-baozi (小笼包子). “xiaolong” means “small covering” and this baozi variant seems to be a mid-way hybrid between baozi and jiaozi (which will be covered in a different post). A few steaming containers are stacked on top of a wok with some water in it, which is placed over a fire. The steam passes upwards through all the containers, steam-cooking the food inside.

Baozi are commonly eated as a breakfast. A very typical Sichuan breakfast might consist of baozi along with rice porridge, a hard-boiled egg and maybe some pickled vegetables on the side. It is easy to find baozi on the street in the morning - many vendors and small restaurants sell them - but it is harder to find them during the evening and afternoon. This is because baozi is considered “breakfast food” and many restaurants actually have a different menu during breakfast, serving stuff like baozi or youtiao.

There are two local variants of baozi worth mentioning. The first is a sort of baozi which is sold in Xi’an, named tangbao (汤包), or “soup baozi”. These are baozi which, along with their regular filling, are also filled with some sort of scalding soup. If you bite straight into the baozi the soup will spill all over you, so you should first bite a very small hole and use it to suck out the soup, after which you can safely eat the baozi. The second sort is a trademarked baozi sold in a chain of restaraunts in Hangzhou named Yao Bu De (咬不得), or literally “cannot bite”. These are basically soup-baozi like the ones in Xi’an, the difference being that they are deep-fried instead of steamed. I believe the name “Yao Bu De” to be a spin-off on the name of a very popular baozi chain named “Gou Bu Li” (狗不理), or literally “dogs can’t handle” - the name implying that their baozi are so good that the leftovers should not be wasted on dogs.

on the left: Tang Bao (soup baozi), on the right: Yao Bu De baozi

You may have heard, time and time again, that Chinese cannot speak English. Nothing is further than the truth; In fact, almost all the Chinese can speak English! The trouble is that, for the vast majority of them, their vocabulary is limited to only one word, which is the word “hello” (pronounced: “ha-lo!!!”).
The day before heading off to China I have been given a book about religious practices in China, which I am slowly reading through. It describes in depth Confucianism, Daoism and Buddhism, but does not mention “ha-lo!” at all; this is spite of the fact that “ha-lo!” seems to be a religion in Cina, or at least a major ritual.
The “ha-lo!” is not spoken as much as barked (from a short distance) or shouted (from a long distance). The person “ha-lo!”ing will almost always wear a silly grin, the type which, when worn by three-year-olds, usually means “mommy mommy, guess what, I’ve spread poo all over the bedroom walls”. As a foreigner, expect to encounter this Universal Greeting wherever you go. Similar to the saluting habits in the Israeli military, if a lone person encounters you he will “ha-lo!” you by himself, while if a group of people encounters you then just one representative will do the “ha-lo!”ing for all of them (children are obviously excluded from this rule, all of them will “ha-lo!”). Unlike the Israeli military, no place is safe from “ha-lo!”ing (including the toilets) and you may often be “ha-lo!”ed from behind, probably in an attempt to get you to turn around (this is a very fun pasttime).
If, from what I wrote, you think that “ha-lo!” is simply a way to greet foreigners, you are mistaken; it is much, much more. As far as the Chinese are concerned, “ha-lo!” is not just a greeting, it is an entire way of communication with those tall, white-skinned, big-nosed freaks. For example, let’s say I have a short conversation with someone (maybe a waitress in a restaurant or a traveller on the train). A few minutes later that person wants to attract my attention in order to ask me some question. Note that by this point we had already established the fact that I can speak some Chinese, and the person is planning to use Chinese to ask me the said question. How will he address me? You should have guessed this bit by now; the answer is, of course, “ha-lo!”.

I am currently travelling in the mountain areas of Sichuan province and my Internet access is very limited, so don’t be discouraged if posts are still scarce during the next week. I am intentionally not writing much about the trip in Sichuan itself as I’m saving these posts for when I get some pictures online.

After reading Vera’s request to post some toilet pictures, how could I say no?

“Sincere Tip:
The white-colored basin below is a urinal, not an ashtray.
The silver-colored bowl below is an ashtray, not a urinal”.

The Chinese seem to pay more attention and detail to their graves, at least from what I’ve seen here so far. The graveyards appear to be much prettier and well-tended than their Israeli counterparts, and many graves show signs of recent visits - such as fresh flowers and spotlessly-clean tombstones. Here are a couple of examples:

In addition to the inscription on the front (usually name of the deceased, a catchy phrase and names of the family members left behind) there is often a short text on the back side, describing the lifetime accomplishment of the deceased and bidding him farewell.

In recent years it has become more and more popular in China to erect bigger and more impressive tombstones, so the newer graves are usually prettier:

I know that it’s a bit hard to see it from this picture, but this tombstone is almost as tall as I am.

Despite newer graves getting bigger and bigger, I think it would take some time until they reach the size of this one, which is somewhat older:

This is the tomb of Huang Di, the first Chinese Emperor (almost 5000 years ago), who is supposably buried not far from Xi’an. The tombstone itself is much newer, of course. The picture is actually only a small part of a large and very impressive complex built around it.

When I was asked, after returning from my first visit to China, what was my favorite place there - my answer was always Xi’an. When asked why, I couldn’t really answer. So this time, when visiting Xi’an for the second time, I tried to focus and define what was it in this city that made me like it so much. The Chinese are very proud of the city’s long history but frankly, being someone who has lived most of his life in Jerusalem, it does not really impress me. So what is it? What is that different quality?

At some point I realized that the difference is in the people on the street. At first it was hard to put my finger on it, they just seemed to “cute”. Gradually I realized that it’s all in their body language and facial expressions - they all seem friendly, benevolent, well-at-ease, as opposed to the closed and guarded expressions that are usually worn by people in cities worldwide. The Xi’anish personality is simply kinder than other places, and this is expressed not only in words but also in actions. For example, whenever I entered a store on the street to look for something and they did could not sell me that product/service, the clerks would always direct me to some place that can. If that place was not very close, they would also write the address for me on a piece of paper. In one paticular instance one of the store’s clerks actually decided to take me to the other place himself, which resulted in a half-hour-long wild goose chase in which we went from store to store to store, stood together in queues, until we finally managed to change cash into my cellular phone (not a small feat, as it turned out to be).

During my first visit to Xi’an, when I had been here with Yifat, we had made friends with a local girl named Hu Yuan, with whom I’ve later irregularly kept touch through the Internet. During that first time we had severe language-barrier problems (she doesn’t really speak English and my Chinese, at the time, was very bad) and the truth was that I’ve had my doubts about meeting her again; I was afraid that, now that we could more or 
less communicate, we would find that we actually have nothing in common. Fortunately my fears were unjustified, and we had spent together two wonderful days in Xi’an before I boarded my pre-booked train towards Hangzhou. The end of the second day was particularly endearing to me:

During the late-afternoon we were spending time in an area in the northern part of the city, not far from where she lives. As evening approached, she warned me that the bus lines from there towards where I stayed were soon going to stop running. I said no problem, I’ll just take a cab, and she said that take a cab would be expensive: over thirty yuan ($4-$5, 15-20 shekel). I really didn’t mind paying that money for spending a few more hours together (the following day I was leaving town), and after explaining it to her again she grudginly agreed. And so we hung out a few more hours, until it became late and was really time to go. But, as it seems, she had still not come to terms with the fact that I’ll be spending 30+ yuan just to get home from where she lives, and thus she had reached a decision. First we went to a storage yard, which was already closed for the night, where she begged the nightkeeper to let her in and fetch her electric-powered bicycle. This bike is slightly larger than a regular bicycle so a second person, me in this case, can barely sit behind the rider. And so we rode for about half an hour, until finally reaching a bus stop from which a bus line arriving near the place I stayed was still supposed to be running. We then waited together for the bus. And waited, and waited, until we came to the conclusion that no more buses will be arriving until the next day, and there was no choice left but taking a cab. She estimated the cab fare to be, from that point, over twenty yuan, and was still not pleased. And so she ordered me to stay where I am and wait for her, while she approached a taxi driver and haggled with him until he had agreed to take me (with no meter running so the money would go directly into his pocket) for ten yuan. All this effort on my behalf, while it was obvious that I’m not exactly short on cash, had left me deeply moved.

People have been complaining that this blog does not have enough pictures, so here’s a picture of Hu Yuan and me together:

This is a sequel to a previous post - Seemingly-Needless Jobs.

Here is another job, one which I’ve bumped into in Xi’an. A job similar to this one actually exists in Israel too, the main difference being that in Israel it is performed by twelve-year-olds. I am talking about the job of crosswalk attendants. These are people who stand at the crosswalks on intersections and instruct people when to cross the road. I believe that their effectiveness is diminished by the fact that the intersections in question have traffic lights (both regular, for cars, and those walking-green-man-standing-red man pedestrian lights). That being said, it seems that the main responsibilities of these attendants are:

1. Blowing the whistle when the pedestrian crossing light turns to green (this is useful if you are blind).
2. Rebuking bicycle riders for not getting off their bicycles when arriving at the crosswalk.

This post is the first in a (hopefully) long series of posts, gradually introducting some of the Chinese foods. We’ll start it off with a very simple food which is one of the more common breakfasts in Beijing: Youtiao (油条) and Doujiang (豆浆).

Youtiao is a sort of long bread. It’s made by taking wheat-based dough and deep-frying it in oil. It’s relatively airy and of course greasy, and should be served fresh and warm (otherwise it’s not very good).

Doujiang is basically soy milk. It’s somewhat more bitter than the soy milk in Israel, so it is common to add some suger to counter the bitterness. It’s typically served warm, in a bowl, and drunk with a spoon. Sometimes people shred the youtiao into pieces and put the pieces in the doujiang, resulting in something slightly resembling breakfast cereal.

Both of these are commonly sold in small restaurants on the street (only in the morning) and are quite cheap. In my opinion they make a very good breakfast.

In Israel, as in most western countries, I am used to first getting services and then, later, paying (”getting billed”) for them. The obvious example is credit cards, but it’s everywhere - telephone/cellphone bills, electricity bills, water bills, and so on. I’m by far no expect in economy, but I assumes that the prospect of added earnings (because customers don’t have to commit in advance as to how much they’ll be using) compensates for the higher fraud risk (customers can run away without paying).

In China this is clearly not the case. Everything is payed for in advance, with the exception of restaurants (where you usually pay at the end of the meal). Take cellphones, for example - you have to “charge” your phone with cash before you can use it. When it runs out, you have to buy more. Israel does have this option too (though I’ve rarely met someone who used it), but in China this is the only option. The same goes for electricity - you have to “charge” your electricity meter with cash and the moment it runs out you have no electricity. The same with your landline, water, and gas. In hotels you usually declare in advance how many days you plan to stay and pay for them in advance (this in addition to the deposit).

This leads to an interesting phenomenom. The Chinese have long ago discovered smart-cards, and these are widely used for prepaid stuff. Take electricity for example - you have an “electricity smartcard” which you take with you to the bank, load with cash, then come back home and stick it directly into a slot in the electricity meter. Voila! Your meter is loaded with more electricity. The same is done with water and gas bills. In cellular phones it’s a bit different - you can buy in any grocery store a sort of scratch-card (similar to lottery cards, but made from plastic) and then scratch the coating to reveal a password. You then a certain number on your cellular phone, enter the password, and your cellphone account loaded with more money. On buses you can still pay by cash but the preferred way is buying a wireless smartcard, load it with money (at the bus station) and then swipe it near the wireless reader while getting on the bus. Even some public internet access places require you to buy a smartcard and then insert it into one of the computers whenever you want to log into the internet.

One of the results of all this is that you have way too many cards, and it’s kind of hard to keep track. Lin has already tried to swipe her cellular phone card when boarding a bus, and realized it only after she got off. Fortunately for her and unfortunately for some other passenger who boarded at the same time, the ticket-seller-lady accused him of not swiping his card.

correction: yesterday I’ve talked with someone who had actually seen the statistics, and it appears that in europe 90% of the phones are actually pre-paid. So I guess it’s not such a far-fetched idea after all…..