Local Living

Another reason I'm so keen on living outside of dormitories is to soak up a bit of local living.

Living on campus, and eating canteen food is all well and good, but back in Shanghai there was something I liked a lot about the daily commute to East China Normal University.

I'd get on my bike, and ride through the housing compound.

Crowded round the fountain would be the mums with their babies and toddlers. Nappies are expensive and polluting, so a common alternative is to wear bottomless dungarees. The mummies hold out their babies at arm's length over a bush or up against a wall, and make shushing noises until the kid does their business.

Continuing along the tree-lined streets, old people would be out doing their morning exercises. Tai Chi on a grassy verge, or a brisk walk - clapping their hands to aid circulation, or walking backwards to improve longevity.

I'd zip out of the gate waving at the guard as I went, who, if I was with Dan, would call out "Dan Yi Er! Dan Yi Er!" as we flew past. Maybe I'd pop into the convenience store on the corner, perpetually staffed by motherly figures who'd announce the total in a thick Shanghainese accent, and signal the amount with their fingers to accentuate the point.


This is actually a shot of the canal heading away from school. On the near-side is the 'poo factory' - where trucks loaded with cargo from local septic tanks unload onto boats which then cart the stuff away to be treated (or dumped into the sea. I couldn't say). The far-side is representative of the kind of characterful houses (more properly 'shacks' in many cases) on the route to school.

Traffic was always heavy at that time of the morning, so I'd ride alongside the canal, weaving in and out of the cement mixer trucks, the taxis, and bicycles of both pedal and electric varieties. Bouncing off the sides of vans, or yelling "Wei! Wei! Wei!" at oblivious pedestrians, I'd stop to pick up some breakfast - meat-filled buns, crispy pancakes, and a cup of fresh soya milk - and hang the little plastic bags on my handlebars.

Then it'd be time to go off-road to reach the back entrance of University where the Foreigner section was located. Dodging potholes and skidding along a dirt-road, dust spewing up in a plume behind me, I'd be through the gate (another wave at the guard), duck under some low-hanging branches, then coast into the bicycle park trying not to overuse my brakes (which had a nasty habit of coming detached at crucial moments).

The ride in alone was enough to make it easy to get out of bed in the morning, and the jolt of adrenaline from surviving traffic "with Chinese characteristics" was better than any ice-cold shower at sharpening me up for getting my learn on.

Even if it's massively dissimilar, there's lots to recommend the route into school here too.

Here's a shot from my window. These guys are here all day, every day. They'll stamp their feet against the cold, hands deep in their pockets, as they call out their wares and the prices per 斤 (500g) - a Harbinese version of "Get yer bananas! A paaaaauhnd fer a paaaaauhnd!"

Bizarrely enough, some decidely summery fruits such as strawberries and pineapples are extremely well-represented here. Locals claim that it's possible to grow them in greenhouses this far north, but it seems more likely to me that they're brought in from somewhere like the subtropical Hainan Island in the south.

There's some fresh vegetables, potatoes and tomoatoes. Directly below, it looks like dried melon seeds, peanuts and other bits and bobs. There's even a little tray of individually-wrapped sausages, a bit like pepperami. If I'm quiet, I can hear the hubbub of commerce from my desk.

Hawkers line the street as far as the eye can see. It's mostly foodstuffs on the left hand side, but across the road there are boxes of clothes and shoes. One stall sells a bunch of plastic stuff - combs, sandals and the like.

It's probably too close to bother with a bicycle. I take a shortcut through a gap in the school fence too, and I'm not sure a bike would fit through there. Besides, it's too slippery at the moment, and the route's hilly.

As I've said, Harbin has much less food cooked by street hawkers, as the cold weather makes it difficult. There's lots of dumplings and noodles sold in small shops along the way though, and I'll try to check each and every one of them out by the time I'm done here!