Diminishing Farmers’ Markets in Beijing
3am, in a dimly lit street called “100 Flower Hidden Deep(百花深处)” in Beijing, the silence was broken out by family of vendors waking up to set up vegetable and meat stalls. 4am, mini-trucks and three-wheelers started to line up behind the narrow entrance of the street loaded with fresh vegetables and fruits. 5am, the first wave of buyers, “early birds” who are either purchasing agents or the grandmas walked into the scene. Suddenly the set is alive with creative advertising and bargaining, as well as the delicious smell of fried breadstick, bake-rolls and various breakfasts. 8am, after an exhausting but exhilarating shopping trip, buyers left with bags of merchandize and a happy smile knowing they got amazing deals while merchants were also content for there are barely anything left to sell from their stalls meaning they made a hefty profit.
This is the morning farmers’ market in Beijing. And I used to be the kid that walks from stall to stall to drool for the amazing little gadgets for sale listen to the bizarre stories people exchanges. In fact, this tradition of farmer’s market is embedded within Chinese Heritage. There is even a motto saying “Greatest hermit reside into the noisiest markets” emphasizing the down-to-earth value of the real genius.
However, in recent years, the Beijing government has taken action to regulate the farmers market in a larger act to “‘beautify’ its traffic-clogged streets” (Guardian 2018). The 2017 fire in the outskirts of Beijing due to an unregulated and overcrowded factory accelerated this process. However, even before the fire, traditional farmers’ markets are diminishing. Due to the harsh nature of the job, almost all vendors in the farmers markets are mobile population outside Beijing. With the prospering economics in the early 2000, citizens started to blame the mobile population for the “city problems” in Beijing (Shiwuzq). Naturally, the farmers market that once provided convenience for the citizens became an obstacle for Beijing to join the other international metropolis. Many of these vendors, who were in the business for 20 years, had to leave the city, those who stayed got pushed into supermarket chains paying 1/3 of their original income as vendors. The crave for supermarkets is partially due to the need for hygiene purposes but it also shows the westernization of the consuming habits of the people. The buyers also suffered from this act for losses of not only a variety of merchants, but their connection with other people and cultural free space to discuss politics, tradition, and history.
It is interesting to note that some farmers' markets are not influenced by this act, such as the “Sanyuanli” market near the embassy district. Instead of being demolished, it became a cultural scenic spot. But looking more closely at this market, it provides only the surface experience of the traditional markets in Beijing. The eye-watering price and large variety of cheese which would shame a Paris boulangerie clearly shows the targeting population is not the local population, but instead the tourists.
The reason behind the success of “Sanyuanli” market spurs discussion about the authenticity of the cultural farmer’s market. In recent years, many cultural hubs built on old factories or cultural ruins starts to appeal to consumers. They certainly are better than simply demolishing the old structure and build skyscrapers on top of it, and it connects consumers with creative artists. However, the emphasis on authenticity is merely on the surface. As Sharon Zukin wrote in “Naked City,” In order to appeal to cultural consumers, they “[preserve] the look and the experience of authenticity rather than preserving the community that lives there” (245).
