The following is a reflection I wrote for my film class, Moving China. Our assignment this week was to visit the Nanhu Peasant Market in Beijing and film and edit a video (which I’m in the middle of right now). For those of you who wish to see my films, I’m sorry to inform you that I cannot post them until I return in December, but no doubt I will keep you posted on the postings!
Nanhu Peasant Market Reflection:
I went to the market on Friday (September 16) around 5pm with four friends including my Chinese roommate. We took the bus, deciding to save a few kuai and desiring the “full” Chinese experience. We waited a good 30 minutes for the bus to arrive, meanwhile getting curious stares from the Chinese people around us. I started filming some of these stares, practicing my ability to film without the people noticing. It’s a useful but simultaneously creepy skill to possess.
We rode the bus, and for the first time ever I thought I was getting motion sickness. The bus bounced jauntily along, and I steeled myself as a wave of nausea punched me in the gut. I managed to get quite a bit of footage of people on the bus, however. One of my favorite shots of the night was a young man staring steadily outside the window, as the city lights blurred and swept by.
We arrived around 6pm and realized that the energy of the market had most likely dulled a significant amount since the afternoon. We walked past some shops and looked in at families lounging around, eating noodle dinners and chatting freely. My roommate suggested that it would be more interesting to visit in the morning, but having made it this far, I was disinclined to turn back. No matter what time of day, Chinese people are always interesting. It would be up to me to find out where the action was.
Walking around the shops, the atmosphere was much calmer than I expected. I shot some footage of people buying fruit, but couldn’t find anything significant enough. I decided at this moment to take advantage of having my Chinese roommate with me, and film an interview with some of the peasants working in their shops. (I did manage to practice quite a bit of Chinese.)
We talked to one man who was very happy to chat with foreigners. He had travelled several hours from his hometown to come live in Beijing, and work, all the time, for money. He had learned English in primary school, so he was excited to throw in the few stock phrases he could remember. I came from the interview feeling very positive about interviewing, until I realized that my friend filming had…never started the film. This great interview was never captured, and so I would have to find more material to work with.
We walked past the meat and fruit to outside, where several vendors were selling meat on sticks. Two women were chatting enthusiastically to a customer, so I thought they would make great interviews. Not the case. One of the women was noticeably uncomfortable and kept sliding sideways from the camera’s view. The other woman decided to answer my questions, but she was unfriendly and spoke in an unintelligible dialect. My roommate agreed that we should try again.
I finally found a great pair—a mother and son who were native to Beijing. The mother was warm-hearted and kind, (my roommate says this is typical of North-Eastern Chinese) happily answering my questions while her son smiled shyly. With this material, I headed back to the editing room.
One thing that I took away from this experience is the impression of how important money is in the lives of these peasants. They are all there to make a living with which to scratch on by, many of them choosing to forgo weekends in the pursuit of money. The last woman I talked to mentioned working for a company as an accountant before deciding to work as a shop owner in this peasant market. My roommate hinted that the reason for this life change would not be as kind as her, and that I better not ask what had happened. This is just another reminder of the harsh realities of the common people, and the sheer will and drive these people have to fight for a better life.
