Here’s some random photos of stuff we’ve recently stumbled over while innocently going about our daily business. Click each photo to see big size.
Hungry? I’ll give you one guess: What is this restaurant selling? (This is not a trick question. And Grandma Neil, you may not want to look):
It’s the “QiÄn LÃ³ng ShÃ¹n Specialty Dog Meat House” (åƒé¾é¡ºç‰¹è‰²ç‹—è‚‰é¦†). The door advertises boiled dumplings and fried veggies, and the window lists dog meat hotpot (ç‹—è‚‰ç«é”…), red-simmered dog meat (çº¢ç„–ç‹—è‚‰), and two regular noodle dishes.
Two guys who detest shopping went shopping for Christmas presents last Sunday afternoon in Tianjin’s dÃ hÃº tÃ²ng (å¤§èƒ¡åŒ) daily shopping torture/madness. See if you can find James – he’s wearing a hunting toque, and the pinyin for his Chinese name spells “dingle”:
This is one of our first floor neighbours stacking a winter’s supply of dÃ bÃ¡i cÃ i (å¤§ç™½èœ) on top of our gate. The older folks still stock up on veggies for the winter – it saves a little bit of money, and as recent as six or seven years ago there was hardly any variety at all in the markets during winter.
Coal is the number one heating source in our area, and most smaller restaurants cook on it. China is the kind of place where people who drive snazzy status symbols and people who pull coal carts like mules live in close proximity:
When you spend a lot of your time on a bike, you learn to make the most of it:
This is the dirty sunset we often see from our kitchen yÃ¡ng tÃ¡i (é˜³å°):
These are some our neighbours – that’s our apartment building in the background – sending money and winter clothes to their dead relatives in the underworld by burning paper money and paper clothes at an intersection last night (see a little more about this practice here). A few piles of ashes are to the right of the flames:
A lot of trees and bushes here get wrapped up on the windy side for the winter. Makes no difference to the fishermen, who, we’re told, will just cut holes in the ice and fish all winter:
This last one doesn’t have anything to do with winter, but I had to include it. Right next to a window selling chicken biscuits that we frequent at lunch time is this dentist shop. They make teeth, right alongside all the unregulated, filthy (by Western standards) first-floor lunch windows (which we love). I guess they thought putting the throw-aways on the windowsill would make good advertising, judging from the stack of business cards in the middle: