The streets were crazy! There were cars, mostly cabs and private drivers, horns honking, and lots, I mean lots, of people. I immediately saw that pedestrians did not have the right of way. Street vendors scattered along the sidewalks sold their wares and food. A unit of uniformed soldiers marched in formation. I stood back and watched all that was happening around me. My initiation into this new culture was eye opening. All the sounds, sights, and smells combined to create the atmosphere that gave the city its unique character.
The walk to the market that day was relatively short since we were only getting bottled water. Our little China Doll rode on her mama’s back. She held out her hand to me and said, “hand.” My heart simply melted. With her little hand in mine, I knew the twenty-four hours it took to get to Chongqing had already been worth it. As a bonus, she held my hand all the way back from the store, too.
Going to market was an everyday occurrence for many of the people in Chongqing. During our short stay, it was for us, too. Beyond the street we crossed the previous day was the marketplace. We passed various shops and walked down an alleyway that led to other vendors and open-air restaurants. It was fascinating. We stopped to watch the noodle man. I stood still, mesmerized by his fluid movements as he worked the dough. He held a big ball of dough and stretched it in the air, working it back and forth in musical rhythms – kind of like pulling taffy when I was a kid. Another vendor made dumplings, JaoXi, dough stuffed with pork or other meat, onions, spices, etc. The dumplings were placed in bamboo steamers that were stacked on top of one another. We sat in front of the one of the restaurants and shared a meal with several of the English students my son-in-law taught at the university. Our meal consisted of rice (mi fan), chicken carrot dish (tie ban ji si), eggplant potato pepper dish (di san xian); Sichuan dry fried string beans (gan bian si ji dou) – this was my husband’s favorite food, potato pancake (tu dou bing) and Chinese tea. It is customary for everyone to eat out of the same pot, but I still dipped some out of the community pot and put on my own plate.
Gathering along the streets were bangbang men with their bamboo poles (bangzi) waiting for someone to hire them to carry goods – from produce, personal items, appliances, or whatever. Other men brought tools of their trade, laid them out on the sidewalk, and waited. Employers would drive up and choose workers for the day. As men sat on their bangzi and waited, some played games, some took a nap, and some just visited. We saw bangbang men carrying items that hung precariously, one even carried a TV.
Most days, one or more of the English students went with us on our adventures. They loved being with us and wanted to know all about our way of life. They asked about movie stars (of which I knew nothing), wanted to experience our food, talked of fashions, news, homes, and even architecture. In return, they shared their culture. One of our daughter’s close friends taught me how to knit like the Chinese women. This friend went with us one day when we crossed the city to visit some historical places and a couple more markets. I stepped into a little shop and when I came out, I didn’t know where the others had gone. There was a crowd gathered just across the street. Immediately I knew that our China Doll had drawn a crowd again. Sure enough, the rest of the crew was there with her. On that day, our friend came to my rescue when a store owner tried to charge me extra for souvenirs because I was American. She scolded him for treating me that way, spoke sternly to him, and said we would take our business elsewhere. As we left the shop, she stood at the top of the steps and told all the people in the shopping area not to do business with him.
One thing I wanted to experience in the marketplace was the meat market. Big slabs of raw meat (complete with flies) hung from hooks. Who knows how long they may have been hanging there! Intestines, stomach, tongue, pig snout, and other animal body parts were also available. Cages held live small animals, such as rabbits and chickens. There were containers with snakes and other things not too appetizing. Live animals were weighed on scales. Aquariums held fish and other water creatures. Further into the market were big bins of eggs – white eggs, brown eggs, bird eggs, eggs that had been buried in mud and fermented for a long time. Those fermented the longest were considered to be the best. Those eggs were transparent. I didn’t try any of those! We watched a lady pull silk worms out of spun silk. One man made sugared strawberries and created spun sugar art on a stick.
There was an odor in the air I could not distinguish and couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. My son-in-law said it was from one of the food vendors. How could anyone eat something that smelled like that? It was fried tofu and the smell was horrendous – and indescribable. I wanted to experience the smells – and I certainly did!
Everyone was busy at something, none were idle. Well, we did see one lady at her open-air shop who was taking a nap as we passed by. Vendors sold all kinds of wares and services. There was even a streetside seamstress, and a pedicurist.
Once again, I was enthralled at these industrious people. This would not be our last visit to the market!