Living large
When we were packing to come here, I suspected we were taking as much stuff for our six-week-stay as Chinese families use in a year. Now that we're here, I'm sure of it. The man who arranged Zack's job and met us on arrival was politely shocked at our two large suitcases, one large duffel bag, and four carry-ons. Of course, those did include 100 diapers, 5 pounds of matzah, and 3 bottles of wine.
We have a two-bedroom apartment on the 17th floor of a modern high-rise in central Fuzhou. The view would be spectacular if not for the grey-white haze that hangs over everything. It's a nice building by most standards and positively luxurious by Chinese standards. Most Chinese live in horribly ugly six-story cement walk-ups. We have about 800-900 square feet, perfectly adequate by New York terms for a family of three, or even four. I suspect this is enough space for a Chinese family of six: grandparents, parents, and two kids (the one-child policy has eased somewhat and was probably never strictly one child in this provincial city the way it was in Beijing or Shanghai). We have 24-hour hot water (that's a big deal), a small refrigerator, and a washer. There are two balconies, one for general use and one for laundry. There are no dryers, so that's where the laundry hangs, though it takes a long time to dry due to the humid subtropical climate. This luxury building comes complete with a built-in washboard in the laundry sink. The washer holds about three days' worth of laundry and there's just about enough space to dry that much. The refrigerator probably holds about the same amount of food. So we have to do laundry and shop for food every three days at most.
Given the limited facilities for taking care of our stuff, we did in fact bring too much. We in the US own too much. We eat too much. We use too much. There is one little garbage can in this apartment. One. In the kitchen. Probably for foodstuffs. We are probably the highest garbage-generating unit in the building, and that with the fewest people. There are towels for washing dishes and wiping the table rather than throw-away sponges. Kids are toilet trained earlier because disposable diapers just aren't as widely available or inexpensive. People use handkerchiefs, not tissues.
Of course, China's getting rich off the West's appetite for stuff. Many of our toys, clothes, furniture, computer parts, autos, books (yes, I'm part of creating that superabundance--I don't know how to reconcile it, either), and on and on are produced here. Today Blanca and I rode a bus past the Fujian Color Printing Plant; they work on a lot of full-color Western books. A Honda plant was on our way to the mountain we climbed a week ago.
When I leave China--when I finish any long-term trip--I'll toss half the clothes I brought. (I don't know whether clothes get extra-worn and grubby travelling or whether it's because I bring worn clothes to start with--also, I need grubby clothes for childcare.) I don't even need to replace them. I have more pajamas, more sweaters, more t-shirts. My two-year-old already has enough dolls and stuffed toys for a lifetime.
Long-term travel is what taught me I needed less stuff (not living in Manhattan, though that helped). It's not environmental; it's aesthetic. If most of the world can live with so much less stuff and if I can live with the contents of a duffel bag for months on end, then I don't want to be weighed down with all that excess baggage in my daily life.
We have a two-bedroom apartment on the 17th floor of a modern high-rise in central Fuzhou. The view would be spectacular if not for the grey-white haze that hangs over everything. It's a nice building by most standards and positively luxurious by Chinese standards. Most Chinese live in horribly ugly six-story cement walk-ups. We have about 800-900 square feet, perfectly adequate by New York terms for a family of three, or even four. I suspect this is enough space for a Chinese family of six: grandparents, parents, and two kids (the one-child policy has eased somewhat and was probably never strictly one child in this provincial city the way it was in Beijing or Shanghai). We have 24-hour hot water (that's a big deal), a small refrigerator, and a washer. There are two balconies, one for general use and one for laundry. There are no dryers, so that's where the laundry hangs, though it takes a long time to dry due to the humid subtropical climate. This luxury building comes complete with a built-in washboard in the laundry sink. The washer holds about three days' worth of laundry and there's just about enough space to dry that much. The refrigerator probably holds about the same amount of food. So we have to do laundry and shop for food every three days at most.
Given the limited facilities for taking care of our stuff, we did in fact bring too much. We in the US own too much. We eat too much. We use too much. There is one little garbage can in this apartment. One. In the kitchen. Probably for foodstuffs. We are probably the highest garbage-generating unit in the building, and that with the fewest people. There are towels for washing dishes and wiping the table rather than throw-away sponges. Kids are toilet trained earlier because disposable diapers just aren't as widely available or inexpensive. People use handkerchiefs, not tissues.
Of course, China's getting rich off the West's appetite for stuff. Many of our toys, clothes, furniture, computer parts, autos, books (yes, I'm part of creating that superabundance--I don't know how to reconcile it, either), and on and on are produced here. Today Blanca and I rode a bus past the Fujian Color Printing Plant; they work on a lot of full-color Western books. A Honda plant was on our way to the mountain we climbed a week ago.
When I leave China--when I finish any long-term trip--I'll toss half the clothes I brought. (I don't know whether clothes get extra-worn and grubby travelling or whether it's because I bring worn clothes to start with--also, I need grubby clothes for childcare.) I don't even need to replace them. I have more pajamas, more sweaters, more t-shirts. My two-year-old already has enough dolls and stuffed toys for a lifetime.
Long-term travel is what taught me I needed less stuff (not living in Manhattan, though that helped). It's not environmental; it's aesthetic. If most of the world can live with so much less stuff and if I can live with the contents of a duffel bag for months on end, then I don't want to be weighed down with all that excess baggage in my daily life.
posted by The Baltimore Bibliophile at 1:27 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home