In my last post I talked about grocery shopping in China. Not all experiences were like that one, which took place in a large grocery store. An aspect of China that I found vastly fascinating yet immensely frustrating is that there are not very many large all-purpose stores there. There’s certainly nothing like Target or Wal-Mart where you can get everything and anything you can think of – the largest store I was in was more like a department store, with separate floors for groceries, clothing, cosmetics and appliances, and so on. The grocery store where I bought most of my meat and frozen items was the largest one in the area, and a round trip to get groceries by bus usually took me between an hour and a half and two hours to complete. However, if I just wanted fruit I could go to almost any corner – literally – and find a fruit seller. People would ride three-wheeled bicycle-carts full of their wares and sell things for ridiculously little on the side of the road, and I was rarely disappointed with the quality of their delicious goods.
A typical vegetable stand in northwest China. Usually the seller would focus on either fruit or vegetables.
As time went on I found “my” fruit seller, from whom I bought almost all my fruit. This seller had a small storefront underneath the stands of the school stadium, and his fruit was fresh and delicious. Even more refreshing than the fruit I bought there was the friendly attitude and open hearts of the fruit seller, his wife, and his mother. Now, Chinese people as individuals are very hospitable and warm, and I have experienced amazing generosity and kindness from people who went out of their way to help me. However, if you go to a shop where the owner doesn’t speak English, immediately there is an almost tangible barrier of tension that is thrown up and that persists until you walk out the door. Not so with this seller! I think that the first time I went into the shop, there was a breath of hesitation – but then he smiled, and asked me what I wanted. From that point on, I felt warmly welcomed in his shop.
Besides selling fruit, this store sold drinks and snacks. It was very popular with the students.
The seller knew that I didn’t speak much Chinese, but when I went into his shop, I would always try to ask him what different fruits were called. “Pingguo,” he would say, holding up an apple, and patiently corrected my pronunciation until I got it right. His wife, a gentle and friendly woman, would also help me. Sometimes I would pick out some fruit and she would take it out of my hands, then pick out the freshest and ripest fruit of the same kind so I got the most delicious experience. It was a challenge the day I tried to buy mushy bananas to make banana bread – she didn’t want to sell me such ripe bananas! In the end we understood one another, and I gave them a loaf to try. After that she let me buy whichever bananas I wanted – though she would still pick out the other fruit for me!
I would often stop to get my fruit there after class ended when I was walking back to my apartment, and I remember my first meeting with the fruit seller’s mother. She saw me walking towards the door and ran over to me, beaming. “Xia qe le?” (Finished with class?) she asked me brightly. I smiled and nodded. She somehow smiled even wider, then zipped into the store, scooped up a handful of crackers they had for sale, and pressed them into my hand. Almost every time I saw her we had a brief but intensely warm interaction, and I always felt a sense of happiness when I walked by the store and saw any of them. I would wave and smile, and they would nod or wave and smile, and the bridge of our friendship across cultures would strengthen.
I learned from these lovely people and from many others what a difference small kindnesses make. Life in China was incredibly stressful, since the social, cultural, and even verbal cues were so different – you were constantly on your guard and ready to deal with a hard situation. Yet when a person is kind, even in a small way, it lifts your heart and encourages you beyond all expectation. Before I left China for the last time, I baked them a special loaf of banana bread and wrote a small thank-you card to the three of them, letting them know how much I appreciated them and how their kindness changed my life in China for the better. Even though I never even knew their names, I will never forget the lesson they taught me: be kind to everyone whenever you can, because you never know how much your kindness will mean to that person.
The shop owner’s wife and me.