Out and About in Shenyang

Why, cigarettes from North Korea, of course!

 

This plaque hangs in the lobby of my building. It lists the names and pictures of the building’s “Brand Champions:” the employee of the month. It is causing stress and anxiety for me.

I think that this kind of employee recognition is a good idea. It builds morale and encourages good job performance. In fact, we so something similar in the Consulate. We have a nomination process through which employees are recognized by coworkers for outstanding work.

However, there is a little problem with using this system in the hotel. There are several people who do not seem to have anything to do. I once counted seven young people standing in the lobby, wearing cute bellhop uniforms (no hats, unfortunately), apparently waiting for something to do. Every time I walk into the building carrying something larger than a bar of soap, one of the guys bounces over, offering to help me carry it to my room for me. If one of them is in the vicinity of the elevator when they see me walking toward it, they race me to the elevator and press the “up” button for me.

The building is overstaffed, and these guys seem desperate for something to do.

And they seem to be competing for this “Brand Champion” award.

But how can you show that you are doing a good job, when your job is to stand by, just in case someone needs help?

Recently, someone seems to have discovered a way to show that he is ready to help: he greets me as I walk by.  He calls out to me “Good morning!” or “Have a good day!” as I walk past him in the lobby. His logic may have been that if he can show that he is present and available to help, in case I am too weak to carry my quart of milk and half-loaf of bread up to my apartment, that must mean that he is doing his job, and thus he is in the running to be Brand Champion. He doesn’t actually have to do anything, he just has to show that he could do something, if needed.

Genius.

I think it worked, because this month, his picture is on the plaque.

But unfortunately for me and my fellow building residents, the cat is out of the bag now. The other six people who hang out in the lobby with him are on to his trick, and they seem to be hungry for that Brand Champion award. Now, every time I walk through the lobby of the building, I am verbally assaulted not by one, but by all of them. “Good morning!” they call out to me, one after the other, from across the lobby. It’s sort of like that video clip of baby goats: one starts bleating, and they all chime in.

I tried to sneak in and out of the building, but they seem to be waiting for me in ambush. What else do they have to do? They have all day to wait for me. “Good evening!” they bellow at the top of their lungs. I suspect that they think that one person gets extra points for being the first to greet me, and second-place points go to the one who greets me the most enthusiastically.

I’ve found myself walking through the lobby more quickly, to shorten the time that my ears are assaulted. “Have a good day!” they scream as I practically run to the exit, the shock wave of their voices propelling me out the door. I can’t wait to get outside, to the peace and quiet of rush hour traffic.

I had thought that living in China, my life was interesting enough. I didn’t expect that little things like being greeted could be so dramatic and meaningful.

The lady who comes to my apartment every week (the local term for this kind of worker is “Ayi,” which literally means “aunt.” What does that say about Chinese culture?!) to clean and do my laundry left a note for me this week. She says that because of inflation, she has to raise her rate from Â¥100 to Â¥120 per week.

I now have to pay the scandalously high amount of US$20 per week to have my apartment cleaned and my laundry washed.

Even with the raise in rate, this is still less than my coworker Steve paid his Ayi, who did a crummy job of cleaning his apartment and who took naps in his bed while he wasn’t home. So I don’t mind forking out a few extra bucks for my Ayi, who does a terrific job.

“Eternally loyal to Chairman Mao.”

  

This sign was mounted above the front door of a store in town.

The weather has been warming up – lows have been above freezing, and highs into the 50s, for the last few weeks.

The city-wide centralized heating systems were turned off the other day, which means that the air quality has been improving. Less burning of dirty coal = less air pollution.

It looks like I have survived my first Shenyang winter.

The fruit stalls that were operating inside have moved outdoors. You can get good fruit at pretty good prices – at least 50% less than in the U.S. I bought some oranges today, plus some carrots and peppers for lunch tomorrow, and lemons for hummus. Total cost was about $5.

Not a carjacking, a cartjacking. Let me explain.

I went to Ikea today. About halfway through the store, with a half-dozen items in my cart, I got a little lost, so I decided to consult a map of the store. The map was right next to a busy part the store. In order to avoid being That Guy and having my cart block traffic, I very considerately parked my cart off in a side aisle, and walked over to the map.

Silly me: I abandoned my cart for more than ten seconds.

I figured out where I was and where I wanted to go, and turned back to get my cart.

My cart was gone.

I looked around, and spotted a some people pushing my cart down the aisle, putting their items into it. I figured that it was an honest mistake. Surely they will soon look into the cart, realize that it isn’t theirs, and return the cart to me, I thought to myself. So I stood where my cart was, with a bemused smile on my face, and waited for them to return my cart to me.

Silly me: I forgot that I was in China.

They did indeed realize that it wasn’t their cart, but instead of returning it to where they found it, they started to remove my items, and to dump them into a nearby basket! Then they wheeled off with my cart! I was so dumfounded, I almost didn’t have time to react and take a photo of their crime.

After retrieving my items, I thought about confronting the cartjackers, but then I figured that it wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t become a diplomat so that I could fight with Chinese cart thieves. I have bigger fish to fry. I could carry my items to the checkout area.

Silly me: I forgot that I was buying ceramic bowls and glasses, and that I was in the middle of an Ikea.

My arms are very tired now.