The Market Near Dongbaoxing Station

I am walking to taiji class today and I am on a quest to find cashews (腰果; yaoguo). When you are hungry but can't have a big meal, what hits the spot more than a bag of cashews?

I decide to take some side streets (actually, I have no choice--I can't find any convenience stores anywhere) on my quest. I thought it would be a quick affair and that I would have time to go to a cafe to study Chinese before my class, but it was not meant to be. No, I was meant to walk around the side streets near where I practice taiji. Suddenly, I stumble upon an outdoor market.

There are many fish vendors. They keep their fish (which are still alive, floating in water) in clear plastic boxes, all of which have plastic hoses going into them to aerate the water so the fish don't die. There are all kinds of fish, and I stand in front of a fish vendor, just staring at all the different kinds. They look like they are dead, but then I see their gills are still moving. They're very cramped and can't swim around. They've resigned to their fate, what else can they do? Try to escape?

I still feel sad for them, although I know the tasty fish dish I ate a few weeks ago, well, contained fish. We live in a world of limits and I know the poor fish lady can't buy big aquariums with toys in them for the fish.

I notice there are some frogs a couple boxes over. They're big and deep, dark green. I say to the lady, "Hey, you have frogs, too." She says they aren't regular frogs, but niu wa (牛蛙). I think "cow frogs?" Then I realize that they are bullfrogs.

I continue through the market and notice all the other things for sale, mostly vegetables. There's a burly sugarcane woman and her knife, which looks like a butcher's knife. She's shaving the rind off and cuts off two pieces for her customer. Then I see the two water chestnut vendors and I notice the skill of one them as he deftly uses his small knife to peel the skin off the brown vegetables, leaving white buttons.

The market it pretty packed. There aren't any foreigners there and so people examine me, the only laowai, as I walk by them. I try to smile at people, and one guy, another vendor, gives me a big smile back. I like being away from the city center, where people aren't used to seeing so many foreigners, and no one is trying to scam me or sell me a fake Rolex.

There's a young girl of about 18 selling something up ahead. Her skin is darker than most girls in Shanghai, and I think if you saw her, you would describe her as pretty. She's squatting down, focused on whatever she's doing. She's got something in one hand and scissors in the other. I notice her hands are bloody. If you are squeamish, I suggest you stop reading here and go check your email or something.

As I get closer, I realize that she is selling small chicks the size of your fist. They are all brown-colored, and they are alive. She's got a bag of them and customers come by and tell her how many they want. She pulls them out one at a time, and, using her scissors, first pulls off the skin and feather. The bird is squirming in her hand. Then, she cuts off the birds feet and wings.

She's a pro, and it's like watching that guy process those water chestnuts, excepts that what she's holding in her hands is alive.

I am looking at this with astonishment. I wonder what does this do to your soul if you do this kind of thing every day. I know that the girl probably has no choice, and that if she could get a job working in an office, she probably would. Maybe this is what her family does to make a living, and she is helping out. I feel compassion for that chick, and I feel compassion for the girl, too.

I see a nut vendor, but he doesn't have any cashews. After I leave the market, I chance upon a convenience store, where I am finally able to find my cashews.

As I get closer,