Driving on the streets (or sidewalks) of Beijing is an everyday adventure

Last week I was driving down North Worker's Stadium road, and felt a pang of homesickness for my house that isn't really home. The morning light bounced off of fresh asphalt, and gilded dusty motorbikes that carved up the lanes. It felt like the southern light that pours through the windows of my Sicilian studio, or brightens the wide imperial streets of Rome. But a visit to Italy is off the cards for a while: this summer is packed with wrapping up loose ends for a handmade paper book in Southeast Asia.

As I waited at a light where fourteen traffic lanes converge in a particularly Chinese chaos, I wished I were cruising around Italian streets on a sexy Vespa, instead of Gongti Beilu on a secondhand Shanghai ebike. Or had enjoyed a breakfast of sea urchin sashimi from Sciacca instead of lackluster "Australian" oatmeal of doubtful provenance. 

Then I thought, "Hey, enjoy the moped you're on RIGHT NOW instead of wishing you were somewhere else!" 

There's always someone – or something – to miss, wherever you go. The key is to love wherever you are. It's not all that different from where you'd like to be.

Stay in touch

Subscribe to my articles by email.

…or, in this case, it's growing from a planter.

As China's influence grows, so does the desire to assert its power.

A recent kerfuffle with Japan over the uninhabited-yet-strategic Senkaku Islands (in Chinese, Diaoyu Islands) became an excuse for chest-thumping, even violent nationalism at home. And abroad: a Chinese entrepreneur placed an ad in the New York Times, where he "solemly declared to the US government and the American people – the Diaoyu Islands have been part of China since antiquity."

Never one to take nationalism too seriously, I was pleased to hear I'd inadvertently bought a piece of planter propaganda from the Beijing Flower Market. The vendors laughed when I picked it out.

It shrieks, in bright red characters: "The Diaoyu Islands belong to China."

Propaganda makes for makes bad art, but good kitsch. Not a bad decoration for the windowsill.

Exhibition of four artists in conjunction with Red Gate Gallery. Currently running in the gardens of the Luxembourg Ambassador's residence, Beijing

Or, the streetside scene at Tavalin Bagels in Sanlitun, Beijing

You too can buy an "E-Egg" electric 'car' for under US$1,500 at Beijing Riders' online shop

This is what happens when you wait a week to post: You forget everything. 

So the final Living Below the Line post will be missing some crucial details – a breakdown of food costs.

During the Living Below the Line challenge, I scrawled recipes on Post-Its. They were strewn around the kitchen and on the fridge. I never use recipes, but these were different: next to every ingredient was a calculation of how much it cost, by the teaspoon or tablespoon, or by the cup. After a few days I found my favorite ingredients were out – because they were too expensive. As the week went on, and I got hungrier, three tablespoons of sunflower oil for 1RMB started to look a lot more appealing than a tablespoon of olive oil for the same price.

These bargain bin apples were a find: just 1 kuai per jin! (about 15 cents a pound)

The apples made a delicious breakfast every morning. Fast fuel for the day: bargain bin apples, extra-filling oats, a dollop of coconut milk, and freshly-grated Chinese cinnamon bark. Total cost: about 2.5RMB (40 cents)

A favorite dinner: red lentils at 1RMB per serving (15 cents) made a filling meal with "Italian taste pepperoni". Total cost: about 3.5RMB (60 cents) for a small bowl of dense deliciousness.

This "pepperoni taste" meat was the cheapest option I could find for (safe-ish) packaged meat at 13.50RMB per packet. I don't eat much meat in China, but craved it after a few days.

Most people in Western countries who were living below the line, weren't able to afford greens. But in Chinese cuisine greens are essential, and are available here year round at rock-bottom prices. 

Like these, just 1RMB (15 cents) for 4

Living Below the Line is a first-world experiment, but there are times when it's good to remember what hunger feels like, and give some of the excess to places that can use it a lot more than we do.

It wakes you up in the middle of the night, and stays with you in the morning. You can ignore it but have to move slowly just to keep going. Sluggish, then euphoric after a shot of caffeine – or another drug to keep hunger at bay.

This was how I started smoking, half a lifetime ago when I was nineteen**. Not because it was cool, or because my friends did (they did), but because I was hungry and broke. Every day, for a year. And though I worked at a sandwich shop to pay rent and save for school, I had no idea how to cook anything but a can of soup. Smoking a few cigarettes was cheaper and more fun than an extra can of Campbell's.

(This was before I discovered ramen and coffee, which kept me going through university.)

Now I'm living below the poverty line for just five days, and the hunger has returned. The first day or two, it set me on edge with a constant thirst. When I downed a glass of water in three seconds flat, the Better Half looked up from his Nietzsche and said, "That's because your body's breaking down its own protein."

I experimented with combinations of cheap local protein and fats to fill up - eggs and sesame and oil – but still didn't get enough calories in. The May Day holiday in Beijing was warm and bright, so we biked to our favorite park. I burned through caloric reserves and wobbled on the way back.

But on the menu was the most satisfying dish I've made during the challenge, inspired by A Girl Called Jack. It's such a simple recipe that even the clueless 19-year-old me could've made it.

Beijing Bubbles and Squeaks

What I eat has to look as good as it tastes: the more colors, the better.

I've taken this British classic and used the cheapest ingredients from the markets of east Beijing,

and added sweet potatoes for an extra burst of color and nutrition.

Ingredients:

2 potatoes (2RMB)

1/4 sweet potato (.33RMB)

1/4 cabbage (.5RMB)

1 tired old green pepper from the bargain bin (.25RMB)

2 eggs from the Egg Lady (2RMB)

1/2 cup white flour (.25RMB)

3TB sunflower oil (.75RMB)

20g Beijing cheese (2RMB)

1/2 bulb garlic (.25RMB)

lots of local salt (.1RMB)

Serves 3

Total cost: 2.81RMB per serving (45 cents)

* Boil root vegetables in salted water, then mash.

* Mix all the ingredients together, make into patties, and fry in as much oil as you can afford.

* Serve hot and be sure to keep half the mix for tomorrow.

** 6 years ago I quit smoking – on the day I moved to Hong Kong.

+ I'm supporting the Somaly Mam foundation of Cambodia with this project. So can you: http://www.livebelowtheline.com/donations/new?lang=en&participant_id=23563

The rules of the Living Below the Line challenge say that 'tap water is free'. 

Lucky are those who can drink water from the tap. We have an Aquasana filter. My favorite glass was once a jar of sesame paste.

Today I picked up some more, from a man with a van at the market.

He grinds the sesame seeds inside the van. The paste and oil fresh are every day.

His neighbor even had a mini sesame grinder.

Another character at the market is the egg lady. She's good with the hard sell.

- Look how big these eggs are, they're delicious! she cries

 She's always calling me over to see her wares. I don't usually buy eggs, but this week is an exception.

Instead of taking the subway home, I indulged in some private transport: an electric rickshaw. The best way to enjoy a beautiful late afternoon on the highway.

The driver and I agreed on a price. Then, when I got out, he tried to charge more than double.*

He yelled and grabbed my bag when I walked away, shouting and  waving at passersby to get attention. When they queried him about how far we'd come, they sided with me.

In the end, only two eggs were broken.

Breakfast and lunch were identical meals and portions to yesterday.

Dinner was a bowl of fat noodles. I added more oil than I would usually, to fill up for the evening.

Starving Artist Sesame Noodles

1 packet udon noodles (1.50RMB)

1 egg (1RMB)

1/2 tablespoon sesame paste (.17RMB)

1/2 tablespoon sunflower oil (.13RMB)

1/2 head fresh garlic (.25RMB)

1 small green pepper, slightly shrivelled, from the low-end pile at the market (.13RMB)

Sriracha chili sauce to taste (.1RMB)

Squirt Sicilian lemon juice (.1RMB)

Dinner: 3.38RMB or 54 cents

Lunch, hummus with homemade Sichuan pepper bread: 3.23 RMB or 53 cents

Breakfast smoothie and coffee: 2.81RMB or 45.5 cents

[photo of dinner to come when Flickr becomes cooperative again]

Due to a miscalculation with dinner, I was OVER today by 2.5 cents! A hungry brain misfiring…better luck tomorrow.

——————-

* The second time in a week a driver's blown up the price upon arrival.

China is a nation obsessed with food, where people will line up for a block to get a piece of their favorite tofu or savory pancake. While the average person in China spends about 8RMB per day ($1.25US) on food, it's easy to spend a lot more in the capital city. My goal is to spend 9.32RMB ($1.50) or less on food every day this week, and go a little hungry to help others. This week I'll post photos of some of the deliciousness that Beijing has to offer, along with some affordable recipes for Below the Line. 

I'm excited to get creative with cooking this week to raise money for one of my favorite charities, the Somaly Mam foundation. 

Delicious (and a bit rough) Yunnan coffee – it costs a third of imported brands

The first day's challenge started at 7:30am with a (weaker than usual!) cup of Yunnan coffee from Southwestern China. .33RMB (about 5.5 cents)

Breakfast was a smoothie made with:

1 cup Oats (1RMB)

2 Bananas (2RMB)

1 Pineapple (3.3RMB)

Chunk of fresh Ginger (.25RMB)

80ml Hainanese Coconut milk (.9RMB)

and enough water so my blender didn't freak out.

Total cost per serving: 2.48RMB (40 cents) 

Coconut milk from southern China's Hainan island (near Vietnam): it'll keep you going all morning long, and costs half of the imported brands

Lunch was homemade Sichuan pepper-whole wheat bread at half the price of store bought varieties. I made it with fresh Beijing honey from this guy:

Homemade bread: .93RMB for 2 piece serving (15 cents)

and homemade hummus (from dried chickpeas) left over from the weekend, about 2.30RMB per serving (37 cents).

Dinner tasted great but wasn't photogenic. I call it Ugly Delicious Curry:

160ml Hainan coconut milk (2RMB)

1/2 purple cabbage (1RMB)

1/2 packet red rice (2RMB)

2TB curry paste (2RMB)

2TB sunflower oil (.5RMB)

Price per serving: 1.88RMB (30 cents)

And for the final course, an egg (1.31RMB)

with a pinch of chunky Sicilian sea salt (say.05RMB)

Total for the day: 9.28RMB! ($1.49055)

Dinner was about half the size of my usual - I sized the portions quite small to fit into the $1.50 budget. 

Now that the pantry's cleaned out, it's time to go shopping at the market for fresh fruit & veg and tofu. On a budget like this, meat is definitely out, and cheap staples like white flour noodles are in! Market photos and more coming soon.

* All currency conversions by http://Oanda.com

After a visit to a Chinese doctor last week, I had lunch with a friend.

And cried a little as I told her about what a jerk he'd been. How he'd stuck his hand inside me and twisted, hard, (angry after he'd lost face in front of his nurses when I'd told him he'd added unnecessary tests and fees) and he had taken pleasure in causing me pain.

Luckily, the Today Art Museum was next door.

There was a piece of artwork that showed exactly how I felt:

Woodblock scroll of needles and plastic surgery by Zhou Yong at the Today Art Museum, Beijing

There are times when art is the best cure of all.

How you know he's the right one for you: 

when you've lost your sense of humor after a long day, he gives it back to you.

The Man at Chambers Fine Art, Caochangdi, Beijing