Hello Stranger

With roughly half a million foreigners in this town, the expat scene in Beijing rarely feels bigger than an average European small town. Same faces appear again and again, and new faces often turns out to be connected to you some way or the other.

Just this weekend a complete stranger turned up at our party at home. After asking around for half an hour for "Kevin" it slowly dawned on him and us, that he 1) didn’t know anyone in the room, and 2) that he was really supposed to go to another party in a very similar looking house across the street. Another minute of chatting, and the guy turns out to be a colleague of a friend of mine.

They say that with six degrees of separation you end up being connected to David Beckham, Elton John and the king of Thailand. Cut that down to three degrees of separation and you know every single expat in Beijing.

The new aquaintance eventually got going to the party across the street he was actually invited to, but then came back twenty minutes later, complaining that that party was way too boring and that he’d prefer to hang out with us instead. A Beijing moment, indeed.

 

Good Night Flickr

The heat is rising, the air vibrating and thick with smog. A week of around 37 degrees Celsius and I’m having erotic fantasies about cool lakes, beaches, anything with water really. Instead I got a cold shower hearing about the most recent internet crackdown. 

Had a coffee with one of the Beijing Likemind founders who informed me that one of the latest sites to be blocked by Chinese authorities is Flickr. Since a few days back it seems like it’s not possible to view any pictures at all from China. Got home and tried. All that turns up on a search on "Beijing" are black frames filled with white, like this:

 

Scary. How do they DO these things? How many guys do they have working on this enormous censoring system? Other blogs links this to recent enviromental protests against the building of a big chemical plant. Some of the protesters published pictures of the event on Flickr and it’s Chinese version, bullog.cn, and since then the two sites have been blocked or filtered.

Citizen journalism is apparently not appreciated here.

 

Mrs. Wang’s Internet Revenge

Mrs. Wang is a friend and colleague of mine in her late 40s who wouldn’t hurt a fly. But when she got crappy service at a car mechanic shop, she posted a long complaint and a warning to other car owners in a discussion forum on the web. Some sympathy posts and a pissed off car mechanic later, Mrs. Wang belonged to a new breed of powerful consumers in China, gladly sharing their shopping experiences on the net.

Mrs. Wang’s revenge sprang to mind earlier this week as I listened to Ola Spannar from Springtime, the Swedish PR and communications company. He gave a talk on his upcoming book about the Internet in China and the culture of using bulletin boards (BBS) - discussion forums to check out and chat about products and companies. China is estimated to have around 50 million BBS users, compared to 20 million bloggers.

In one of the latest issues of Far Eastern Economic Review (FEER) you can read how the bulletin board is the most important part of any China-based website. In a country where all information is under government control, people are starved for information from their peers, information they find more authentic and trustworthy.

The ongoing discussions are ranging from baby care to mobile phones and they are already having an impact on business. These discussions, argued Spannar, are crucial for companies to monitor in the future, giving numerous examples of brands being praised or dissed by Chinese consumers online.

He’s right that this is something to watch out for. You don’t have to look far to see where the Internet savvy upper middle class in China turns for consumer information. Here in Beijing, the restaurant at IKEA got flooded with people after a man living in the area posted on his neighbourhood chat forum that the extremely cheap Gongbaojiding chicken (4 Y) “was not bad”. At the time I ran into one of the IKEA managers at a party who was getting concerned that the restaurant areas in the second largest IKEA store in the world were perhaps too small.                                              
Mrs. Wang who revenged herself on the car mechanic, had consulted the same bulletin board a couple of months earlier when deciding which car to buy.

Then again, Chinese companies already know this. FEER reports that as a rule new sites in China “manufacture BBS traffic by hiring rooms full of students to post or else by buying traffic from other sites and posting it as their own”. This in the end might leave the Chinese consumer surfing the net as bewildered as when buying a Gucci wallet. Fake or real?

 

Looks like good advice can be as counterfeit as Prada slippers in the local market.

Don’t eat the strawberries

These days the fruit vendors are displaying a tempting mix of strawberries, watermelons, mangoes and litchis. Eating them however is a pleasure mixed with anxiety, if not downright fear. Last week the death sentence of the former head of China’s top food and drug safety was a reminder of how food safety in this country is a work in progress, to put it mildly.

The death sentence followed after a string of scandals: poisonous toothpaste and pet food exported to the States, as well as a cough medicine killing a 100 people in Panama.

I’m getting used to a slight paranoia whenever I eat something, and so are the Chinese. Didn’t this apple have a strange, chemical taste to it? And what about this egg, who told me that the chickens are fed with weird things to make the yolks more yellow?

Three Chinese friends, independently of each other, gave me the very same advice. Funny thing is that they all leant over the table, lowered their voices and wheezed their lines like Russian agents in a Bond movie.

Friend: Listen… Don’t eat the strawberries.

Me: But they taste so good!

Friend: Yeah, well DON’T eat them! (looking over the shoulder)

You know what they DO to them? The flavour. It’s injected. Some times they spray them with god-knows-what.

I feel like I’m in a Stephen King novel where everything safe and familiar suddenly turns into your worst nightmare. 

Will a stroll down the aisle in my local supermarket be my last walk?