REVENGE OF THE BEAN PASTE
June 2005

The closest I ever came to culture shock in China was
the first time I went to the supermarket. Or, I should specify, the animal
section of the supermarket. There are pig trotters, chicken feet, all sorts
of internal guts and sacks, knuckles, heads, legs, wings…and those are just
from the animals that are already dead. In what we affectionately call “the
aquarium section,” there are live clams, fish, turtles, frogs, eels,
crawdads, sea cucumbers, conches, etc. All of this, of course, emanates a
certain aroma…
The grocery store we shop at most frequently is
Carrefour, located right across the street from our school. The supermarket
has two stories: on the ground level, there are the household appliances,
clothes, dishes, soaps, toilet paper, etc. The food is downstairs. But
there are no stairs. Instead, there is a moving ramp, like an escalator,
but with no steps, so that people can easily take their shopping carts from
one level to the next. The ramp is magnetic so it holds the wheels of the
shopping cart in place. At the end of the moving ramp, a store employee
helps customers detach their carts from the ramp. One time the employee was
slacking off, and a cart got stuck. The ramp full of people kept moving
forward of course, causing a dangerous pile-up. Luckily, after a second or
two, the cart was freed and disaster averted.
The best part about the ramps is that as you are
riding the ramp down to the lower level, you can experience the ultimate
thrill in impulse shopping. Beside the ramp, there are some shelves with
the latest sale items displayed, so as the ramp moves, you have only a
second or two to make a decision and then grab something. As you ride the
ramp, the smell of the animal section wafts up, and soon the sausages come
into view. I often wonder what they put into sausages in China, since they
seem to eat every conceivable part of the animals. We avoid the sausages.
Next to the animal section, there is the fruit and
vegetable section—an oasis of normality and pleasant smells to counter the
carnage. The vegetables consist mostly of leafy or stalky green things.
The Chinese love chives and cabbages and lettuces. You put whatever you
want into a bag, and then take it to be weighed and priced. This is one of
my favorite sports in the supermarket. There is one kiosk with three
weighers for the entire produce section, and nobody queues. To get your
fruits weighed, you have to jostle your way to the front, then, two seconds
after someone else’s produce has been put on the scale, you add yours. By
that time the price has already been calculated, and it ensures that yours
will be the next one weighed. Otherwise, you will stand there all day.
Beyond the meats and vegetables, there are bins full
of mysterious nuts and dried fruits and little wrapped candies, jars full of
tea leaves and mushrooms, and vats full of pre-made salads. Then you enter
the bakery section, or “home of the bean paste.” I remember during our
first trip to the supermarket, I was thrilled by the endless pastries and
breads and rolls and buns, until I learned that lurking inside all of them
was the dreaded sweet bean paste. Even the most innocent, French-looking
loaf has been known to harbor bean paste. After yet another fatal purchase,
Zac lamented, “Why can’t they just put bread inside of bread?!” We
eventually learned to thwart the bean paste by only buying sliced bread.
Next to the bean paste abode is the dairy section,
consisting mostly of yogurt and milk. Most of the milk and some of the
yogurt is the long-life kind that doesn’t need to be refrigerated until it
is opened. The yogurt comes in small Yoplait style containers, but with
straws, since the yogurt is liquidy. The yogurt flavors are usually pretty
normal, but we have tried rose-hip and aloe flavors. The milk comes in
cartons or bags. In addition to the standard white and chocolate flavors,
there’s also walnut, peanut, coconut, coffee, strawberry and a few
mysterious ones. The nearby frozen food area consists almost entirely of
frozen dumplings and ice cream.
Then there are the eggs. The Chinese love eggs. But
not just normal chicken eggs, oh no. They eat quail eggs and duck eggs and
who knows what else (we’re illiterate here, remember). And even these eggs
they don’t simply eat. Nope. They pickle them. They soak them in salty
strange water that gives them the taste of, to quote Zac who ventured to try
one once, “a petting zoo.” They also seem to be in complete denial of the
fact that eggs are fragile and break easily. When you buy eggs here, you
just buy eggs
. No carton. You choose the eggs you want, put them in a bag,
and get them weighed and priced. The first time we bought eggs, I broke at
least half of them. Zac was put in charge of egg transportation after that.
Next we have the staple foods section. There a
gallons of cooking oil and enormous bags of rice and flour. There are also
bins of different kinds of rice and flour. Nearby is an entire aisle of soy
sauce. Beyond that is the spice row. In the spice row, you can mainly find
black pepper, white pepper, chili peppers, Sichuan pepper, mixed pepper, and
jars of spicy pepper concoctions. And of course, giant bags of monosodium
glutamate (MSG), smaller bags of salt, and many bags of chicken boullion
which is really just chicken-flavored MSG. It’s funny because my Chinese
students always say Chinese food is very “nutritious and delicious.” While
the delicious part may be true, I wonder about the nutritious part since
every dish is cooked with copious amounts of oil and a good dose of MSG.
Heading back across the store, you will encounter the
promotion area. This is where girls in plastic outfits hand you Dixie cups
of whatever product they are currently promoting. Nearby a TV, surrounded
by the product, runs a constant advertisement. Carrefour is one of the
quieter supermarkets, but in most of them, there will also be many people
with bullhorns shouting promotional slogans to attract your interest in the
product. In nearly every aisle of the supermarket, there is a sort of
salesperson, or shopping assistant, or shoplifting patroller, I’m not sure.
But when I spend too long staring at something (trying to decipher what I’m
going to buy) one of these people will come over and point at a particular
product (usually expensive) and try to convince me to buy it. Luckily my
complete incomprehension of Chinese makes me impervious to these
suggestions. Then there is the man who zips around the store on roller
skates. Maybe he is the manager?

Near this area is the cookie aisle and snack food
section. We were originally delighted with this section as well, until we
discovered that most of the food, while looking normal, contains a
mysterious ingredient that is imitation butter flavored and makes everything
taste really gross. We can, however, buy unadulterated Ritz crackers,
Oreos, and Snickers bars. We were a bit addicted to the Oreos and Snickers
there in the beginning, but I’m happy to say we’ve been clean for two months
now (we were getting fat). Then there’s the jello. Jello does not come as
a powder in a box here, where you add boiling water and put it in your
fridge for a while. It comes in little cups, with a lid and straw. That’s
right, we are forced to slurp our jello. And slurp we do, since they
managed to not mess up jello, despite trying their best by putting weird
little mystery fruit balls in it.
Right in the center of the store, in its very heart,
are the ramen noodle aisles: package upon package of ramen noodles, as far
as the eye can see. Ramen noodles in China are quite fancy. Instead of
just one flavor satchel, they come with three. One is flavor powder, one is
dried green vegetable-ish things, and one is a spicy red pepper paste. The
different flavors are quite mysterious to me, although I swear (judging from
the picture) that one of them is fish-eye flavor.
So what do we buy? Mostly, we buy: jello, yogurt,
milk, chicken, beef, peanut butter, bread, and cereal. (We buy the fruits
and vegetables on our street.) So what on earth do we cook? What have we
been eating for the past four months? Well, we only have five things that
we cook: chicken-broccoli stir-fry, chicken noodle soup, chicken tomato
pasta, spaghetti with ground beef, and beef stew. Of course, I’m sure there
are more things we could cook, but we are easily deterred by not having the
right equipment, right ingredients, a stove with more than one burner or an
oven.
However, in recent weeks, with the warmer weather, our
diet has been greatly diversified with the addition of Ice Cream. We can
eat cookies and cream ice cream, vanilla ice cream, chocolate ice cream,
etc. I recently bought some delicious looking strawberry popsicles. I
started eating one while waiting for the trolley to take us home from the
store. Zac said, “Mm, that looks good. What’s inside?” I said, “I’m not
sure what it is, but it tastes a bit odd.” I ate some more. “Zac, I think
I know what it is. It’s frozen bean paste. It's even infiltrated the ice
cream!”
