Popcorn and Progress

This past weekend a few of us spent the day walking around 798, one of Beijing’s premiere art districts.  The buildings in the area are mostly abandoned equipment factories that artists and merchants began to rent and occupy some years ago. The name 798 comes from the factory number 798, the first building to be used in this way.  The district has grown to include countless vendors, artists, designers, shops, exhibits, and restaurants.  The art is modern and often quite experimental, which, coupled with the industrial aesthetic of brick factory walls and cast iron drums serves as a constant reminder of where China has been and where it is going…

After a long day, we decided it was finally time to head home, but since there is no subway connection so far out from the city center (that line won't be added for a few more years), we had to search for a cab.  As we were walking toward what seemed like a more favorable intersection, we encountered a man and (I assume) his wife running a kettle-cooked popcorn stand.  In the traditional Chinese spirit of hard work and cooperation, the man toiled away churning the cooker and his wife bagged the popcorn and carried out the transactions.

Two of my friends, having insatiable sweet tooths, couldn’t resist the intoxicating smell and decided to split a bag.  The bag was, if you can imagine, even bigger than a contemporary large popcorn at the American movies.  Not only that, but the popcorn was sweet, crispy, and steaming hot when it came out of the kettle.  Unfortunately for the vendors, they can’t claim the same advantage as movie theater concession stands (which are effectively monopolies, since once you’ve entered the theater you have no other choice) and therefore have to sell at competitive market prices: which hovers around a mere 4RMB (or about $0.60) per bag.  Can’t believe you pay $7 for a large (stale, fake-buttered, over-salted, chewy) popcorn, can you?

We were thanking Mr. and Mrs. Kettle Corn for their services when two young blondes came up and tried to ask where the bus stop was.  It was obvious to us that they spoke almost no Chinese and were dreadfully lost, so we translated and helped to send them in the right direction.  One of the girls thanked us and said, “We’ve only been here a week, hopefully after a year here our Chinese will be fluent.”  I couldn’t help myself, “Don’t count on it, sweetheart,” I retorted and sent her on her way down the street with her friend.

The reality is, she shouldn’t count on it.  Real progress takes time, and is actually quite slow.  798 didn’t just pop up over night, and it will be years still before Chinese movie theaters are over-charging customers for shitty popcorn.  I just hope I didn’t discourage her.