Still plodding on

It's now Saturday evening, July 21.  There's been just too much going on to write it all down, since I am exhausted by the time I get home.  Wish there were internet at the store.  Then I could sit and write during the down times, when I'm  waiting for dough to rise, or to bake.

The visa situation is unresolved.  I got the business visa for one month, then talked with a consultant in Shanghai by phone and email.  He said before he could do anything for me, like a 6 month business visa, I would have to have a fresh entry stamp in my passport.  So two weeks into my 30 day business visa, I made a mad dash to the border.  It was ill planned, ill advised, and cost a bundle of quickly dwindling bucks.  Once I got back I discovered that this agent has slunk away, no longer answering my calls and emails.

A passing remark by Jimmy, translated by Tina, now makes me think I could have renewed that one-month business visa for at least another month or two.  No one told me that before, however.

Jimmy, whose wife works at the Foreign Affairs Office that issues the visas, counseled me that the only choice left is to become a company.  He told me where the appropriate office was, and advised me to show up there at 8:30 a.m.

Friday morning, July 20

I rode my ebike, Tina rode the bus.  I thought Jimmy had told her where to go, she being the Chinese speaker and native to the city.  I arrived and didn't see her, so headed into the building.  The guards at the gate questioned me.  I tried to tell them what I want, but haven't yet the vocabulary I'd need.  They were trying to redirect me to the government office where you get a business license.  I knew that wasn't right. A young man came along just then, and asked me what I wanted, in English.  I told him. He was in his early twenties, dressed very casually in a loose tan T-shirt and baggy tan slacks.  He said he'd take me there, it was on his way.  As we walked through one building and out again, and into another, he explained that there were 9 buildings housing government offices in that complex.  My first two years in Changzhou were spent not far from this complex, and so I was aware of its existence as an important local government center.  I guess Tina was not.

He took me to 'his' office, and made inquiries.  Then we walked along a corridor or two to the other side of that building, same floor.  Someone else then picked me up and escorted me to another office, and I sort of waved a goodbye to this young man.  Fortunately, he hung around.  Turns out, his English was the best of the rest, and he was invaluable.  Talk about kismet, he is an 'intern' and only there for a short number of weeks.

The nice gentlemen put their heads together, asking questions, gathering information, and finally coming up with an instruction sheet for how to form a company as a foreigner.  They went further, and interviewed me until they had built up a good description of my company, that would include present enterprises and future growth.  I took the stance of a consultant to those wanting to open a western style bakery and coffee shop in this city.  Advising, consulting and training for concept, recipes, decor, quality control.

They warned me that it was very complicated and time consuming.  They asked if I wanted a consultant to help me.  They gave me the name of a private agency that does that work. I was glad to have it.

We even kicked around names, so that if the first one I chose was already taken I would have alternatives all ready. They were extremely helpful and friendly.

Kind of reminded me of the time Dean and I took the properly marked photo of the front of my shop with the mock-up sign, to get the city's approval of it.  We walked into a small office on the second floor, where four desks were lined up along a window in a narrow room.  We took our photo to one desk, and all four clerks perked up and started chatting about it.  What was this store?  A western-style bakery?  Are you doing it by yourself?  How old are you?  No!  You're not retired?  What a great name! And so it went.  We glowed with celebrity as we exited the small office with the appropriate approval stamp on our application.

Back to Friday morning, halfway through I called Tina to see where she was.  She had gone to the wrong government offices, a few blocks away.  I felt sorry for her, because we are having a heat wave and she is on foot.  She eventually found us, and quickly got up to speed.

When we left there, the internet company was just a block away so we went there before heading back to the bakery.

I had done my homework, but now I'd need a native to do the legwork for me.  The first step would be to call the agency and see if they could help.  That would have to wait until tomorrow, and a chat with Rachel.

We got back to the bakery and baked a bunch of bread, from the starters of the previous day.  I did my signature bread, pain a l'ancienne.  With my professional oven they come out so much more beautiful than when I baked them at home, with a great crust.

I made whole wheat dinner rolls, which I needed to deliver to Johnny at Jolly's. The ones I made Wednesday were all wrong!  I had had a mind block, forgetting how to properly shape rolls (between trying to instruct Tina, keeping three recipes going through pre-ferment, shaping, baking, and also having a rare visit from ex-pat friend AnnMarie whom I hadn't seen in a couple of months).  So Wednesday's dinner rolls were more like hamburger buns, that is flat and not tall.  But they were white whole wheat, so the flavor and texture was appropriate.  Today I made the recipe with brown whole wheat, and properly shaped the rolls.

Also made ciabatta, filling them with a meaty mushroom cooked with garlic.  Don't know the proper name of it, but it is probably my favorite kind of mushroom.  There's a story to these mushrooms, going back to my trip to Ganzi a few years back.  But, as they say, that's another story.  Tina really liked this variety.

Friday night.  After a long day of baking, took a quick nap and a shower, gussied up and hauled my heavy bag of breads onto the bus to the north end of the city, where the ex pats live.  Hit three western restaurants, gave away all my samples.  Jolly's restaurant was pleased to offer me space in his lobby for my shipment of orders phoned in.  Now, if I can just get the internet link set up so that people can actually go online and see what they want, and phone in their orders!  Aug. 1 is the target for Grand Opening.

I don't have proper business cards, so I had to give people my English Teacher persona cards.  I told them to call and ask what was being prepared, and place orders.  But of course, they need more than that.  I'm working on getting an internet link through which to make announcements about the next day's baking so people can properly text me their orders.  Tina set me up with a blog, but it is in its early stages.  We need to upload photos and so much more.

Johnny was my last stop.  It was well past 9:00.  The last bus would leave around ten. I resigned myself to the high cost of a taxi home. We went into his office (the Filipino ladies twosome band was in full swing; they play really good music) so we could hear ourselves think.  We had a nice long and friendly chat.  What a nice guy!  In case you haven't read all the previous posts, he is a Chinese guy who lived seven years in Ireland.  His English is excellent, and he is a marvelous host.

He said that of the breads I brought Wednesday, the multigrain was by far his favorite.  AnnMarie had bought a couple of loaves during her visit, and she also gave it rave reviews on our ex pat Facebook page.  It was the sort of bread you would typically find in Europe.  Dense, chewy, brown, slightly acidic with a good crust.

He told me what quantity order I could be expecting from him.  I was disappointed, but it is a beginning.  He generously gave me a spot next to his wine display, where I could place my basket of orders for people to pick up.  His computer system easily allowed him to keep track of my money separate from his.  So now I have a distribution plan for my potentially many northern customers.  Finding means of delivery will be relatively simple when the time comes.

I stood by the road in front of his shop with an empty bag, wondering how long I'd have to wait for a taxi.  Fairly soon, one without flag up slowed down, saw a foreigner, and started speeding up again.  I chased him and called after him in Chinese, however, so he and his front-seat passenger stopped and asked where I was heading.  He said it was an OK destination (cabbies can be choosy in such a large city) and I got in.  I was hoping to get a break on the fare.  The other passenger got off and paid him 20 rmb, as the meter read.  When we got to my apartment the meter read 38 and he wanted me to pay 30!  We settled for 25.  A little cheaper than a single fare, but not much.

Saturday was a slow day.  I created a soaker, which is what I should have done for the multi grain bread.  Instead of doing properly last week, I soaked whole grains, then mashed them up.  But the correct way is to grind the grains first, lightly moisten them, and let them soak overnight.  I blended a few grains and ground up extra for a later batch.

I also started a sour dough.  The last time I did this, in 2004 in Sichuan, I used the method described in Ruth Berenbaum's book.  That one took two weeks, but before I got a successful one I got two throw-away attempts.  This one takes less than a week to grow.  It will be interesting to see how it turns out.  It calls for rye flour and fresh pineapple juice.  I had to buy a pineapple, cut it up and put it in the blender.  I don't have a proper juicer, with a screen.  Two days of juice treatment, and then after that the feed is simply the clear wheat flour and water.

I failed to mention the other part of Wednesday.  The last of the loaves were half cooled down when in walks Dr. White  (bai in Chinese).  He is my vet, who spayed my two cats over the past year.  He had come by Tuesday, after we texted back and forth and tried to reconnect.  His English is almost non existent, but Tuesday he brought a friend whose English was passable. He checked out my new venture.  I told him I had five kittens.  He said I should stop spending so much money on stray cats.

The Wednesday visit was totally unexpected.  We chatted, and I said I needed to take these breads up to Xin Bei, to deliver to Jolly's.  He said, I'll take you, I have a car.  Wow!!!  Tina came with us.  On the way, he explained that he wanted to buy an instant blood analyzer for his vet clinic.  He felt that it was much cheaper in the States, so could we arrange for him to buy one there and have someone traveling here in August carry it to him.  Hmm.  We made a couple of stops along the way, mostly in Xin Bei; one was to another vet clinic where he showed me the device he wanted to buy.

Since I knew that Johnny wasn't going to be at his restaurant, I did not stay long.  The kitchen crew came out to greet me, however, and showed great interest in my wares.  I identified everything, including the ciabatta with sun-dried tomatoes and fresh basil.  One guy perked up.  You could see he knew what was what.  He asked if I had dried the tomatoes myself, and was impressed with that and also with the fresh basil.

Dr. White also took me to meet his good friend, who is a sous chef at the Shangri-la restaurant.  This is a famous restaurant in this city, housed in the 4-star Trader's Fudu Hotel.  Through the years I've been a guest there as various ex pat groups have planned gatherings there.

The sous chef had fairly good English.  The master chef passed through looking for a cup of coffee, and made a few jokes and comments.  He was tall and grey haired and portly, with a German accent and quite good Chinese.  The sous chef regretted that the company policy would not permit me to enter their kitchen, but that he would bring down a cook or two to my kitchen to spend the day with me and show me a thing or two.  Unbelievable!  So we set up the date for July 25.

I did try hard to find a good price for the blood analyzer, although he had not told me how much he could buy it for in China.  The prices I found online were, in the end, higher than what he would pay here.  So I hope that idea has died now.  I can't imagine who I could ask to carry it here in their luggage.

After Tina and I left the government offices Friday morning we went to the Telecom office to see about getting internet service.  I had held off until I had the business license, a requirement.  That was obtained Thursday by Rachel's mom.  I took a photo of it with my phone and was ready to order internet.  But we hit a snag.

My theory is that Telecom wants to upset the balance.  As it is, China Telecom has the reputation of being the best, most reliable internet service in Changzhou.  China Mobile, on the other hand, has lousy home internet service but the best mobile phone service.  The saleslady at the Telecom office tried to explain the package she was selling.  It was confusing.  In the end, it seems that they no longer will supply simply internet service.  They will only sell a bundled package that includes two cell phones (free) and phone numbers (not free).  That forces an additional charge of 116 a month.  If I bought a SIM card straight up from China Mobile, I wouldn't spend 30 rmb a month on cell phone service.  Until I have that new phone number, I am not able to get my new business cards printed.

I went to China Mobile on Saturday, to order internet service.  My friend at that desk looked my shop address up on her computer.  Three times.  She made a phone call.  It just didn't show up.  Clearly, Telecom had wired the shop for service, and it is not possible to switch it over.  I am forced to pay the high price for the Telecom package.  I will try to find someone whose English is better than Tina's to try again Monday, to talk with a salesman at the Telecom office.  I would hope that it is possible to buy the internet service alone, without the phones.  Meanwhile, still no business cards.

Today I gave Rachel the sheet of instructions and information picked up at the government office.  She read through it, and concluded that it was a very complicated process. She called the agency, and had a very long talk with the woman there.  One conclusion was that it would cost perhaps six or seven thousand rmb, around $1,000 US.  And that is just government fees, it does not include the agency fee. What recourse do I have?  I would spend more than that in six months having to go to Hong Kong for a new tourist visa, not to mention the dread that I might be prevented from returning to China.

Now I have to decide whether to sell the house in Florida, or just try to rent it out and generate a monthly income.  I am in desperate need of an infusion of capital.  The coffee investment money may or may not materialize in the next ten days.  I'm not counting on it.

Dean, my guardian angel

I don't even know his Chinese name.  A thin man with slightly receding chin, an overbite, his skin is dark, his hair is short.  He is about forty years old.  He is the man who took it upon himself to find me an apartment, when it was time for me to finish my Changzhou University contract and begin working full time for Web.

He doesn't have a car.  He walks, or takes the bus.  So we bused, taxied, and got rides to see a wide selection of apartments until we finally found the one I'm in now.  I love this apartment!  It couldn't be better, and a steal.  Then he taught me another Chinese tradition.  He, his wife and son came and 'dirtied' my kitchen.  That is, they cooked the first meal in my new home.

The Web school uses the vocational education philosophy to teach English.  Anyone, given proper instruction and enough time, can learn any skill, thank you John Dewey.  So Dean made a decision.  He would learn English from the beginning, and give himself three years to do it.  I was his first foreign teacher, when this branch of Web opened in December, 2010.

We would occasionally have English corner on a weekday afternoon, where the only attendees were Dean, Daniel, Jimmy, Shirley, Vanna and sometimes Zoe and Lisa.  Most of these students owned their own businesses.  As my business idea slowly began to evolve, they would enjoy talking to me about what was going on.  They gave me lots of good advice, as well as instruction about how things work in China.

In time, each acquired their area of special interest.  Jimmy would make sure I got my sanitation inspection certificate.  In time, when visa issues erupted, his wife would smooth the waters since she works at the police department that issues visas.  Daniel helped in buying supplies and equipment.  We spent hours on the internet tracking down specialty equipment.  He is the go-to man for getting stuff, finding resources.  Dean was always there to offer his wisdom and sound judgment, and ultimately, his filial concern for me.

Then a time came when Dean was around a lot.  In fact, he was around all day, even on week days.  He said that his factory was closed down for repairs for a couple of weeks.  But those weeks passed.  Meanwhile, he started taking over on site responsibilities.  He connected with the contractor, and continued to push and guide him.  Daniel was not having success coming up with the shelves that I need, to hold the bread for display behind the counter.  I took a photo of the shelving used at Tesco supermarket, but Daniel could not find them online.  Dean met me at Tesco at 8:30 one morning, and we asked the managers about it.  They came up with a manufacturer's name, in Shanghai.

Dean took it from there.  He phoned the company, ordered the shelves, arranged for me to pay, followed through when hiccups arose (they always do).

I needed to deal with packaging.  I had heard there was a specialty market, over many concrete acres, somewhere in the east of Changzhou.  He stayed with me one day while we tried to find it, asking here and there at other markets.  We finally found it, and it offered so many things I thought I could find only on the internet.  We walked around for a couple of hours.  We found a shop selling paper and plastic bags, but not what I was looking for.  They said they could customize.  I took a sample.  I had already talked with Eric, a new Web student, about packaging.  That was his company's specialty.  I would take the sample to Eric, and we would work it out from there.  We were exhausted and it was getting towards the dinner hour, so we left the market.  But I knew I'd be back soon.

During the long bus ride, Dean confided in me.  [I know none of you will betray his secret.] He told me that his new job with an Israeli had not worked out.  He felt like such a failure!  He had left a good job for this new job, thinking he was advancing his career, and now he was unemployed and not getting any nibbles from his online resume.  He had not yet brought himself to tell his wife. This explained his availability.  He comes to Web every day as if he were going to a job, to keep up appearances.  I see him as my guardian angel, put there to take care of me during this difficult time.  I pray every day that the Lord will generously bless his kind and generous heart many times over with a great job where he will be truly appreciated.

Then we discovered that my baked goods, from this 200 kg shipment of flour, had a gritty texture.  I was horrified!  On Friday, July 6, some ex pats organized a little get together at the German restaurant above my shop.  I baked all day long, in anticipation of finally getting a decent audience to buy my wares.  Buy they did.  There were still some things left over, so I took a mushroom/onion ciabatta home for my Saturday breakfast.  I noticed that it was gritty.

I emailed an apology to those who attended the dinner, promising that they would receive a free loaf once I'd opened shop.  Some wrote back that the bread was delicious.  They noticed a little grit, but didn't mind it.

Dean, myself and this new wonderful discovery, Tina, went back to the supply market and hunted down sifters.  I had searched on the internet, but they seemed pricey.  We spent another long day there, during which I found so many necessary items.  And a sifter.

Back at the store the next day, Tina and I sifted.  We found lots of black flat stony pieces.  The whole shipment was spoiled, useless.

Dean called Mike for me, the supplier.  He had a number of conversations.  Mike promised to have a replacement shipment to us by Friday.  So here it was Monday, I had hired one worker and interviewed a few others.  The counter had been put in place, as well as a high table along a wall.  We were so close to being ready to open.  And now I had no flour!

Meanwhile, my visa needed to be dealt with.  I spoke with an agent in Shanghai who specializes in difficult visa cases.  He cockily told me he could get me a residence permit.  But there was one problem.  I had been in China too long continuously.  I would need to leave the country, and come back with a tourist visa.  Well, I had been trying to avoid the tourist visa.  It can be a death sentence.  But I didn't know what else to do, so I planned to spend the flourless down time making a visa run.

It was a tough decision.  Tenzin Mullin, my dear friend now living in New Zealand, was in Shanghai.  We had planned to get together Tuesday and Wednesday, when he would finally visit me in Changzhou.  This visa run would preclude that visit.

I had been way too busy to sit down and spend the hours I would need, consulting with others about how to do this visa run.  I would just wing it, and make all the wrong choices along the way.  In the end I spent almost $1,000, all but about $125, in those two days.  Including a return air ticket that I could not use.

Those two and a half days are themselves worthy of their own story.

When I got back to Changzhou with my tourist visa, I called the guy in Shanghai.  He told me he was busy and would call me right back.  I emailed him.  He had stopped communicating with me.

So I went back to Jimmy, and asked him if we couldn't have another consultation with is wife and with the visa officer at her police station.

While I was gone, Strider came by the shop to oversee the installation of the second air conditioner.  Strider is a former student of mine, who is now to be a junior at Changzhou University in the fall.  He needed to go home to Xuzhou to visit his family, but he wanted to help me for a week or two before he left.

He had trouble with the air conditioning installer.  Apart from the fact that the installer promised to come in the afternoon but didn't arrive until 8 p.m., leaving Strider alone and fuming in the bakery, there were technical issues.  He called Dean.  The two of them spent hours over a couple of days working things out.  Strider paid the installation costs from his own pocket, because I thought installation was included in the purchase price and had not left money for him.

And Dean continued to deal with Mike and the spoiled flour.  I called a shipper I work with, but left town before he could come and see the job.  Dean took that over for me.

And now Friday has come and gone, without a delivery of flour.  Mike now says it will come Monday.  Had I known, I could have visited with Tenzin and left for Hong Kong on Thursday.   Grrr.

And now Tina has come, it is Saturday and no baking to be done.  So we will discuss recipes, and hopefully develop a plan.  Menus, worker schedules, so many things need to be worked out.  We will spend the day at my air conditioned apartment, doing just that.

Ponzi Shmanzi, I want my money back

Jeff, Wu Gang, the guy who introduced me to the coffee investment scheme, told me that the coffee muckety mucks were inviting me to dinner Saturday night.  I should meet them at the fancy restaurant where they held a huge kick-off dinner in January, 2011.  Jeff's home is just north of there, my home considerably further south.

I took the bus and got there a few minutes before 6.  The Bali Coffee people were waiting outside for me.  Jeff had not yet arrived.  We went to our private room (that's how it's done in Chinese restaurants) and gradually assembled.  There were 7 chairs.

In attendance were the general manager, his deputy manager, the financial manager and his deputy manager, who was the Ms. Ma I had dealt with a couple times recently.  Rounding out the table was their driver, Jeff when he finally arrived, and me.

A lot of lip service was given.  They showed me newspaper articles praising their company.  All in Chinese, I couldn't read it.  Jeff was there supposedly as the translator, but he did very little of that.  It seemed as if he had suddenly lost his former fluency.  He stuttered and stammered and took forever to say anything, by which time the Chinese would start speaking again and Jeff would give up.

The financial director entertained us the whole evening.  I have no idea what he was saying.  He was lively, moving from one story to another.  At one point they said, 'Please don't tell Obama that!  you'll cause international problems.'  They all laughed. I sure wish I knew what had been said.  I asked Jeff, and he said 'they're talking politics'.  I was in no way drawn in to the dinner conversation, except for the congratulatory toasts.


The day I sat with Ms. Ma at their offices, trying to work out a solution, Rachel served as our translator by phone.  She let the cat out of the bag, that I was opening a bakery.  Previously, Jane Wang had dealt with Ms. Ma for me, telling her that I was sick and leaving the country and needing the money right away.  That's the Chinese business way.  But Rachel is just an honest worker, without guile.  So at this dinner there were many toasts to the success of my new business. 


They had bought some bottles of bai jiu, the Chinese distilled rice liquor that is so horrible.  But we sipped a cheap Great Wall red wine, and the good cheer never rose high enough to justify breaking out this expensive stuff.  They bundled it up at the end of the meal and carried it home.


Three-quarters of the way through the dinner the deputy manager was the one to give me the bad news.  He told me that the check would be cut at the end of the month.  Translated, just one more delay.  I keep thinking there is a bankruptcy filing, or a company disbanding, or some gloomy thing for which they are stalling me until it is too late to reclaim any funds.


As we rose to leave the table (I have never seen a lazy susan so empty of dishes at a Chinese restaurant as at that dinner, an indication of the importance of the guest) Mr Yang, the general manager, inquired of Jeff about my transportation.  Jeff dismissed the inquiry without even asking me how I was getting home.  Bundled in a full belly and empty promises, I trailed the crowd down the elegant stairway.  With chin dragging, in my fine silk dress, I walked to the bus stop through streets still damp from a sprinkling of rain 

Ten days past decorator completion date

It has been an incredibly busy week.  The decorator's completion date of June 21 came and went.  What was the holdup?  I kept getting different answers.  Waiting for the paint retouches to dry. The sign. Getting the water turned on. The plumbing.  I puzzled and tried to push things along, but in the end I believe it was just that the contractor was over booked and didn't have time to finish.

The sign model finally got done more or less correctly, printed, and stamped by the Mall administration.  On Monday it should go to the government office for a business license.  Once it is approved, the decorator's team can make and place the sign.

The water.  What a joke.  One day a couple weeks ago I had an hour break between classes, so I went to the Mall office and applied for the water and electric debit card.  I turned over the money and received change.  I was shown the cards, and the meter in a box, but was told that they would keep the cards.  I simply needed to check with them periodically to make sure I still had money in the account, and add it when needed through them.  The box was sitting aside the clerk as he officiously sat at his desk.  With the speed that made molasses look mercurial, he took out his receipt book and began writing receipts.  I sat there waiting for the receipts and, more importantly, the meter which the plumber needed to install.  In exasperation, I looked at my watch and realized I had a class beginning in five minutes.  The doleful eyes and protruding lower lip turned my way as I explained that I had to go to class; I left, empty handed.

The next day I returned for the box, but did not get the receipts.

The plumber installed the meter.  Days later when I asked the decorator what the holdup was, he said the water wasn't turned on, I needed a card.  At least, that is what I understood.  Oh my what confusion!

I returned to the Mall office and asked for my card.  It was no where to be found.  After 15 minutes of head shaking and chin rubbing and furrowed brows, I asked to simply let me buy another card.  No, I was told, it couldn't be done.

We had reached an impasse.  So I went back to my classes, and waited.  Later that pompous weasel came chasing after me at Web.  He explained that he flushed out the old account and, using a new card and account number, had once again added 45 million gallons, or whatever, to the meter.  We went to my shop and he showed me the meter, set at zero.  I asked what I owed, he said I owed nothing.  I had already paid for that much water.  Problem solved.

So, then, what was holding up the decorator's team?  The sink had arrived on the 22nd, but there was no hardware.  Who was in charge of that?  I didn't know.  As far as I could tell, the restaurant equipment store did not sell sink faucets.

On the 28th the decorator had my oven wired up to the wall.  I wanted a plug, but was told that a 380 volt plug was not possible; the control switch was on the opposite wall, in the new junction box that had been installed.

Now I had a situation where all the big equipment had arrived, including my two work tables and the very heavy bread slicer machine.  At the same time, the floor was littered with dust, paint droppings, crating material.  The place was a mess.

I met with the decorator Friday, and the plumber/wirer.  He assured me that on Saturday afternoon the technician would return and finish everything, and all the garbage would be taken out. The floors would be cleaned.

Meanwhile, I still had no electric outlet for the work table, where I'd need to boil water to dip the pretzels and bagels.  There was no outlet for the bread slicer.  The windowed partition between the kitchen and the shop was still missing lower sliding panels.

At the very beginning I had asked that fans be installed in the ceiling.  I had asked if they could strengthen the ceiling mounts to hold a fan.  I asked that question again when they had the scaffolding in place and were working with the sub and upper ceiling.  Yes, they assured me.

Now they say, no, can't put in fans, the ceiling won't hold it.

I have run out of money before I bought the air conditioner.  The contractor made sure that the wall plug that was originally there was live. He assured me that the placement of the air conditioner in the middle of the room at this high location would be adequate, even without the additional fans to distribute the air.  But now Dean tells me the one air conditioner won't be enough.

Saturday was my last scheduled day at Web, beginning with a 10 a.m. class, and ending with the flea market ECA at 5 p.m.  I had planned to sell bread at that event, but I haven't baked in weeks.

I left the house at 8 a.m., and grabbed a gypsy taxi at the corner of my block.  We went to Hongbei Rd East, where Daniel had his kitchen cabinet shop.  It is an area many blocks long, with many side alleys, holding lots of shops for supplies.  This is where the textile market is, as well.  I had bought my cold sink and faucet here, with Daniel's help.  I wished I could have found that shop again in that labyrinth, it would have been nice to have two faucets the same.

My task was to find one cold faucet and one hot and cold mix faucet for the double stainless steel sink.  They needed to arch up, they couldn't come straight out horizontally.  The humidity was high; I was soaked to the skin in  no time.  The driver drove me slowly through the lanes and alleyways, waiting while I hopped out and made inquiries.  Finally I was pointed in the right direction by one storekeeper.  I ran down the block to that other shop.  They had just one faucet that seemed to meet my requirements.  I bought it, and another cold faucet.  I still don't know if these necks swivel.  I delivered them to my shop.

The workman came in the late afternoon, while I was in my last class.  I sent Dean down to talk with him.  He was gone before Dean arrived!  He didn't stay long, and he didn't install the sink faucets.  As far as I could tell, he did nothing.

Dean called him, and called the decorator.  They will meet me Sunday morning at 9 a.m.

comments please

come on, you two or three readers.  Don't be shy.  send me your thoughts upon reading these entries.  Let's dialogue.

the swindle addendum

Yesterday I spent time at the Bali coffee offices trying to talk with the new financial officer, about getting my money back.  I may kick myself, in the end, for being so nice.  You see, I am fighting a deadline.  Once this company files bankruptcy, my money will forever be gone.  Have they done that already?

I went back again today, as agreed, to draw up our payback agreement.  In it she says that I propose to terminate the contract, therefore these are the conditions.  A lump sum will be paid on July 25. But of course, there was no indication of the company's culpability in neglecting to deposit the agreed upon moneys, the back interest they owe me.  I refused to sign it.  I have sent the document on to Atlanta, from the TV station.

Is there even such a thing as a class action lawsuit in this country?  I hope I'm about to find out.

I just want to make a difference.  Even if I don't get my money back, I want to be sure that these people are shamed.  It is what they have earned.

Dragon Boat Festival outing

June 23 is Dragon Boat Festival.  Rena, who has been the Head Tutor during most of my time at this Web center in Wujin, Changzhou, was also finishing up her contract with Web on June 30.  So she and her husband hosted us to a day at an ecology park.  There were three car loads of us, tutors and foreign teachers (only two of the latter).  The weather wasn't great, in that it was drizzling or misting on and off. But I saw that as better than a scorching hot day, which would have been the alternative at this time of year.

The plan was to end the afternoon climbing a mountain.

I met Rena and her carload at the Web center.  We rode out together.  She and her husband, their adorable four-year old son, Rachel, Christina and me.  We got there a little after 10:30.  The appointed meeting time was 11:00.

There were two parallel large glass buildings, one on either side of the driveway with a lobby connecting the two.  Inside was a fabulous garden scene.  There were tall trees, shrubs, gardens with begonias and petunias, and lots of streams filled with coi.  The lofts and balconies that were dining rooms were made of bamboo and wood, giving a feel of nature and tradition.  There were open dining rooms on the first floor, and separate rooms.  We took one of the latter, with a round table for 10. It was open on one side, facing the garden interior; a large window on the opposite wall reminded us of the gray day outside.

It was a quite pleasant hour spent, strolling around the different landscaped areas, resting at tables, climbing stairs to open balconies, standing over the coi as they swam.  Terry was the last guest to arrive.  Rena drove out to a meeting point and showed him the rest of the way to the park, in their two cars.

Terry is the one who had successfully applied for the promotion to her job.  He is a tall, thin unsmiling fop still single at 33.  He usually drapes his slender frame elegantly, in suit and tie.  Where Rena is totally approachable and without ego, he is aloof and taciturn. Though the government will deny it through their teeth, homosexuality is rampant in China.  He is not a Changzhou native.  At times, at the Center, I had observed his inability to speak with local delivery men and such in the common local language. This has further set him apart from the tight knit group of tutors.

It never ceases to amaze me how addicted Chinese women are to high heel shoes.  Knowing they were going to 'climb a mountain' or 'go hiking', still Rena and Christina wore high heels, Rachel and Lisa wore platform heels.

At one point, a group of us piled into Rena's car and her husband drove us around the grounds.  There were neat rows of organic gardens.  There were open fields of corn, as well as many large sections domed with plastic sheeting  .  We stopped and went in one.  Squash and cucumber plants were climbing up webbed plastic lines.  Speaking of webs, we group of Web workers encountered many spider webs as we walked the outdoor grounds.


I was a little surprised to see the heavy winter squashes hanging down.  

This one got caught early in the netting.

We left that lovely park after an excellent lunch, and went on to climb the mountain.  We were near Rena's parents' home, so we all went over there for a while.  No one was home.  It was interesting to see a countryside single-family home, since China is determined to get people off the land and into high rises.  this one had been modernized by adding another room out back for the kitchen.  The old kitchen has been preserved, though no one is using it, at the advise of the remodeler.  It looks like the kitchen I know so well up in the mountains of Kham.

I had brought along my box of 'Mexican Train', a dominoes-based game.  About five of us played it.  Rena loved it, and asked where she could buy it.  Of course, even Taobao doesn't offer this one.  She's trying to persuade one of our American teachers to bring it back for her after his summer visit to California.

We walked up the steps of the not-so-high mountain.  We rested at the main platform, although a few hardy souls climbed the last 100 meters to the top.  That portion has just a beaten path, no cement stairs had been added.

The girls played around, taking lots of pictures of each other.  Rena is the one in the middle.  Rachel, whose family has taken on the responsibility of having their name on my bakery business license, is just above her.

As we sorted ourselves into separate cars in the mountain parking lot, Rena opened her trunk and distributed gifts to us all.  Bundles of 'sheet tofu', a specialty of this small region, and the basis of one of the excellent dishes we had just eaten; tins of 'pork floss', a unique product of the consistency of spun sugar (cotton candy) but dried.  In China this method is used with fish, as well.  Delightful gifts, appreciated by all of us.


As we were driving home I asked Rachel if we were organizing a farewell dinner for Rena.  My assumption is culturally based; we honor the person who is leaving, by hosting them and showing them our appreciation. But in China it is not that way.  Rachel said that this day was for that purpose.  But this day has been sponsored by Rachel and her husband, rather than us.  


Just one more unexpected cultural difference that sets my thinking on its head.

The Ponzi Scheme

This is a draft of a letter I'm sending to a Chinese TV reporter here in Changzhou.  His beat is the ex pat community.  He has set up a blog in English to help us be in touch with culture activities in the city.  He provides many interesting links on his site.  Atlanta's blog (汪健的博客)  I won't send it until after tomorrow.  Tomorrow I will make one last attempt to go to the offices of what I think of as a Ponzi scheme, and see if I am somehow mistaken and all will be put right.

Dear Mr. Wang Jiang,

I don’t expect you’d remember meeting me.  It was at Jagerwirt’s German Restaurant, they hadn’t been open long.  You were with Linda.  In fact, I didn’t recognize either of you until afterwards.  It took time before I realized you were the author of the Atlanta blog I’ve been reading, and that Linda was the elusive recluse I’ve been hearing about for years. Perhaps if my iTV service provided the local TV station I would have recognized your face.

In an email Linda told me you were looking into the difficulties encountered by foreigners trying to open small businesses here in Changzhou.  I am such a person, and I’d be interested to hear about others like me.  But that’s not why I’m writing.

I think that I have been swindled.  It is too small an amount to take to a lawyer and court, but for my fledgling business it would be enough to carry me through the first year.

Then again, maybe it’s all a bad misunderstanding.  I was thinking that someone in your position might have a better chance of finding out than me.

In the Fall of 2010 I brought over from the States my life savings.  I thought I could find an investment, or buy a home.  I have lived in China off and on since 2001.  I found Changzhou to my liking, with decent business opportunities.  I was too invested in China, its changes, its future, to leave.  It would be like walking out of a movie theater just as the hero begins to unravel the mystery, but before the audience is fully clued in.

At that time my circle of Chinese friends was extremely small.  It has since grown vast.  At that time I met a guy who lived in the same building as the apartments rented by the school for its foreign teachers.  “Jeff” WuGang’s English was well mastered, and he was an interesting guy.  I did some copy editing work for him now and again.  So when I was looking around for investments, I asked his advice.  He led me to the Bali Coffee Co.  He had contracted with them to put together a team for the interior design of a new factory they were building, and also a small retail shop in the Landmark area of downtown.

They sat me down at their offices, in the east side of University Town, and explained the proposition.  They were offering investments in blocks of 50,000 rmb.  In return, they were guaranteeing 18% annual interest and, at the end of the contract (either 3 or 5 years), a full return of the capital.

I said to Jeff, this is too good to be true.  What’s the catch?  No, no, he assured me, this is legit.  These guys are well connected.  Mr. Yang went to high school with the vice Mayor of Changzhou, he said.

I saw lots of certificates, signatures, stamps, photos on the walls to verify their authenticity.

The scheme is that they are making coffee vending machines.  Investors buy X number of machines, which the company then leases back from them.  Filling these machines is very profitable (I know that), and that is how they can share such high profits.

I asked them what their marketing strategy was.  Where were they planning to place the machines.  I pumped them for details.  I got nothing in return but platitudes.  Well, I thought, maybe that’s just the way Chinese do business.  Westerners tend to be more direct, to the bottom line.   Maybe I was experiencing this cultural difference right here.

Jeff was so persuasive.  I wanted to laugh at his naivete.  Instead, I said OK, let’s prove it.  Although I had at one point mentioned to Director Yang that I might invest 200,000, by the end of our talk sessions I knew I was already taking a big risk just giving up 50,000.

After the signatures were dry (the copy he gave me was stamped but not signed by him), he said that he would show his good faith by putting the first quarter’s interest into my bank account immediately.  The alarm bells went clanging and echoing in my head.  Ponzi scheme!

A couple of months later I was invited to the grand opening of their little ‘coffee culture’ shop in downtown, followed by a gala banquet.  The guests piled into two buses and were ushered from the shopping center to a hotel nearby.

There had to be at least 200 people in that hall.  Many speeches were made, you know how that sort of thing goes.  I had to leave before the end, because I had a class to teach.  There were boxes of goodies stacked near the entrance, which looked to me to be gifts that would be handed out.  Jeff swears none were, but I assume he kept my share.  He never did invest a nickel of his own money.

I visited the downtown shop a couple of times that winter, as I had a part-time job nearby.  They had asked my advice about how to decorate the stuff in ‘western coffee style’.  But I never did get a clear picture of what they were planning to sell there.

The shop was empty, except for the counter worker.  The shelves were lined with very expensive gift packages combining coffee pots, cups, and coffee.  There were also expensive wines, and tea sets.  I could go on Taobao and buy the same things much more cheaply.

I saw a number of examples of extravagance that belied good sound business practices, such as a day at the Dinosaur Park hot springs for a large number of guests.  Is this really the way Chinese business is conducted?  I had nothing to compare it to.

Now let’s get to the part about these quarterly payments of 2,250, totaling 9,000 rmb per year.  As I said , the first one came immediately.  So the next one wasn’t due for about 5 months.  I was busy at that time, having a full-time and two part-time jobs, and so I didn’t check my bank account.  When I finally did, in May, no additional funds had been deposited. 

I wrote to Jeff.  He spoke to his friends.  After some time, he emailed me to check my account.  I did; nothing.  It took a week before money showed up.  By then it was June, and the next payment was almost due. 

When next I checked, again no money had been deposited.  Again I contacted Jeff, and through his efforts another sum was deposited.  After that I put it out of my mind.  My fears either would or would not be confirmed.  I felt powerless.

Then I started working for Web full-time, and began to talk to smart business people.  I began to change my impression entirely of business is conducted in China.  I didn’t bring up the matter of this investment, however, until events thrust me onto this path of opening my own business. 

One of my new friends liked my business idea.  And while she was already deep into her career and so couldn’t get involved as my partner, she said she would back me up financially if and when my own funds ran out.  Eventually, I told her about the lost investment of 50,000 rmb.

Her husband is a policeman, and they thought I should fight for the money.

I waged what campaign I could, but I got the clear feeling that the coffee team was about to fold up tent and steal away in the night.  They kept promising me that on June 16 they would pay me my money.  That sounded to me like the day they would file bankruptcy, if such things transpire in China.

I am sending you the documents involved.  The original contract, and the history of the bank account they set up for me to receive their funds.  There is also an email sent me by a new man on the team, after I went to the offices to talk with Director Yang, who of course was not there.  That man, I believe his name is Liu Ming or perhaps Li Ming, was very nice, very sincere.  He gravely told me he would bring the matter to the attention of the Director, and resolve it.  This email was the promise of resolution.  But of course, the 16^th came and went, and there was no money nor were people answering the phones.

A friend looked into the business a few days ago, and found that the accountant was no longer working there.  Did she leave because she was uncomfortable with what was going on?  Or did she embezzle money?  Or did the Director fire her so he would have no witnesses?  I have no way to get answers to these questions.

I welcome your suggestions, if any come to mind.  If you find this story to be unusual and newsworthy, I can give you contact information.  Thank you for your time.

Business License meeting

Business License

On Thursdays I work the night shift, 1 pm to 9 pm.  It’s a good day to sleep in a little, and to put some time in on the treadmill.  But this day I have a number of things to do for the business. 

I need to get the flour sacks up off the shop floor while the men are painting.  This means a trip to the restaurant equipment store to buy some food-grade ‘trash’ bins.  They open at 8, so this is something I can get done quickly before turning to the task of getting the business license.  It seemed that I had all the papers collected to do that task.  Except one.  I need a photo of the shop front stamped by the ‘Logistics Office’.   I had printed out the designer’s mock up, but had not yet gotten it stamped.

So, get the barrels, deliver them to the store, take the photo to the Logistics office, get the stamp, then gather the documents and a Chinese person and go to the right government office.  Pretty straightforward.  My Web colleague Rachel’s mother had agreed to be that Chinese person.

Some days, however, are simply governed by ‘Murphy’s Law’ [Everything that can go wrong will go wrong].  The sooner you discover this fact, the better.

I woke after 7, got dressed, grabbed a granola bar and some soy milk and headed out the door.

I should have seen it right then, but such is the spell of the day.  I know too well that on a long and busy day I simply must start out with a hearty bowl of oatmeal, to carry me through.  But I slipped out the door with only a meager snack.

I caught the number 2 bus in front of the apartment complex.  While sitting in the bus, a text message came through.  It was in Chinese, and no name registered.  I assumed it was from someone envolved in the store decoration.  They asked me to come to the.  I texted back that I would be there at 9:00. 

The bus took me to the equipment store, and I was greeted by friendly faces at the door.  I told them what I wanted.  I knew from the past visit that this sort of goods they kept at a different location.  I said, let’s go.  They hesitated.  They spoke a lot of unintelligible Chinese.  I realized this was getting complicated.  I cut it off quickly, politely exited, and walked down to the other such store on that road.

As I walked, I mentally ticked the minutes away.  I was supposed to be at Web at 9:00.  It was already well past 8:00.

I reached the other store, and again was greeted with familiar smiles.  I explained what I wanted, and we climbed to the third floor.  I measured the tubs.  I asked repeatedly if it was OK to put ‘food’ in there.  I don’t know how to say, “Is it food-grade material?”  I always got the same answer.  “Flour?  Sure.”

The sticker price was 198 rmb, and I needed four.  I pulled out my tape measure.  I had a maximum clearance of 56 cms.  These, with protruding lock tabs, measured every bit of that.  But I decided I could put them into the under-counter bins on the diagonal, and they would fit.  They seemed much more expensive than I had anticipated.

I asked for a price of 700 rmb, about 10% off.  That seemed as far as they would go on the price.  Driven by desperation, I agreed and paid up.  One lady put the tubs on a cart and wheeled it out to the street, where we tried to hail a cab.  None would stop!  There weren’t many empty cabs to begin with, but of the couple we saw in ten minutes one avoided eye contact, the other waved his hand side to side and shook his head “no”. 

Obviously it was the cargo that was putting them off.  I dialed 96196 and handed her the phone, asking her to get the taxi dispatcher to send a car.  But she had no luck connecting to them.  And I thought it had been my bad Chinese, in my previous unsuccessful attempts! 

Another associate drove up on her ebike.  They chatted.  The clock was ticking.  She said we should hang back, and she would hail a cab.  It worked.  We managed to put the tubs in the back seat of the taxi, and I drove off. 

But at the moment I picked my bag up to put it in the taxi, I realized liquid was pouring out of it.  I had tucked a bottle of Mr. Muscle in my bag, thinking to finish cleaning the shop’s wall.  I so easily forgot the last experience, when the squirt top worked its way loose and doused that bag.  The same thing happened again.  This time, all the precious papers I’d been collecting: contracts, leases, copies of ID cards, my passport, designer’s blueprints; all were drenched with cleanser.  I cursed, and cursed and cursed as I scooped up the soggy mess and threw it in the floor well of the passenger side, and jumped in after it.

It was now well past 9:00.  Rachel had called me, reminding me that her parents were waiting.  I assured her I was in the taxi and on my way.

When we arrived at the mall, I asked the driver to continue on south to Hongbei Road where the entrance to the underground parking was.  This added 5 rmb to the fee.  I would take the elevator up, to avoid dragging the tubs from the curb to the shop.

Foiled!  The nearest elevator was out of service.  I had the taxi driver back up to another elevator, though he was uncertain what I was doing.  I jumped out of the taxi, tossed the tubs into the elevator and rose to the ground floor.  As the elevator doors opened, I realized I was just about as far away as if I had gotten out on the ground level.  I struggled a few feet with the tubs, but a shopkeeper noticed and said to his companion, ‘Let’s help our neighbor.’

They each took two, and off we went.

With the help of the painters, I got the flour sacks put away safely in the four tubs; they fit exactly, two sacks to the bin.  I showed them the message on my cell phone.  They nodded.  I had not brought a translator, and so these two workers, fresh faces to me, just made some vague gestures.  The lead man shrugged his shoulders, without really trying to talk with me.  They had almost finished with the off-white blue kitchen paint.  The main room had a white bottom coat on.  They had not yet started with the two ‘toast’ colors I had chosen.  I nodded approval and left.

I rushed upstairs, sweaty and already feeling tired. 

As I gathered the papers together, I remembered the photo.  I searched everywhere for it.  I hadn’t seen it when I scooped up the wet mess.  Where was it?  Had I left it home in the other bag?  Of all days to change bags!

I asked Rachel if I could borrow her ebike.  I quickly rode home.  I immediately noticed how comfortable and smooth her bike was compared to mine, over the very very rough terrain of the city roads and bike lanes.  My second hand bike had no shocks left.  It was the cause for the sudden ‘arthritic’ ache up and down my spine these days.

A careful search uncovered neither the photo, nor the USB stick I had used at the photo shop at the Tesco Mall.

On the drive back to Web I had time to reflect coolly on the morning events.  It was then that I realized that Murphy ruled that day, and “resistance is futile.”

I took Rachel’s mother into a classroom, and realized the father was there too.  Rachel bears a strong resemblance to her father.  Her mother looks young, with a stylish short haircut combed to the front, the bangs on a diagonal.  She wore a rich purple dress.

I apologized for making her wait so long.  I tried, in my poor Chinese, to say how grateful ‘happy’ I was that she was willing to help.  I said I didn’t think this would be a good day.  Sorry she had come out for nothing, but I was happy to meet her.

When we rejoined the group at the tutor’s desks there was a lot of discussion going on.  Daniel walked in then, with his wife.  What happened next was like watching a movie where the tension builds, each party following a different thread, conversations here, phone calls there, and a half hour later the plot has taken shape.  At last the audience is let in on the future direction of the film.

The parents were concerned about liability, if they put the name on the license.  I said, through Daniel, that we would go to a lawyer and draw up a contract releasing them from any liability.  Rena called a lawyer. 

A long conversation ensued. The gathered crowd of tutors and the two couples continued their conversations in halting rhythms.  They were also listening to Rena.  Something she said sparked the conversations in a new direction.  Another snippet of the one-sided conversation spurred another spat of chatter.  Rena hung up and reported that the lawyer said there was no way for such a release, legally.

While all this was going on, I checked my email.  The artist had finally got the sign board right!  But as I tried to download and open it, a problem arose.  The computer couldn’t find the software to open it.  This is puzzling, because it seemed to be a jpg file.  So how would I copy it off and bring it to the color printer?

Daniel came to my right, and spoke in English.

“Look, this is all so that you could get a visa.  What about forming a company?”

 We had talked about this before.  My logic ran this way.. since I would be supplying bread to restaurants that made me a wholesaler, just like any other factory, so I should have a company license. 

“Or, what about getting another company to sponsor me.”  I said Dean’s company was my preference, but Dean had not yet been convinced, and had not yet arranged a meeting with his Israeli boss.  Having spent three years in Israel, I love Israeli people and just wanted to meet this guy on general principals.  But I also thought, knowing Israeli ethics, he might be amenable whereas a German company, of which there are many here in Changzhou, would be too law-and-order to agree to such an arrangement.  Dean is conservative, and I felt Daniel would need to chat with him to bring him into the plan.  Daniel filed that piece of information away and returned to the knot of Chinese conversations going on to my left.

Next, Rachel walked to my right, away from the group speaking in Chinese.  What she said was probably a suggestion from the lawyer.  

“If my parents are going to take on this liability, maybe it would be appropriate for there to be some money involved.  Like shareholder.  What do you think of that?”

“Sure.”  I said, “They should be shareholders, 10%.”

She wrinkled her eyebrows and gave an embarrassed smile, “No, I think that is too much.”

I reminded her that at least for the next year, 10% would mean nothing.  She also then asked if they were to share in the profits, would they also need to put in some money, and what if I incurred debts, would they owe also.  I assured her that all the responsibility was mine, they were contributing significantly by just being the ‘face’ on the license.  The mother had also repeated to my face what she had said weeks earlier through Rachel,  that she wanted to actually help out in the store.

This was translated, smiles all around. 

Rachel blew me a kiss.

Now down to the specifics.  I pointed out that if we were not going to use my name, the lease was invalid.  Rachel’s dad assured me he would have no problem duplicating (faking) another lease.

I would not be needed, then, when they finally went to the government business administration office.  They could arrange that to suit themselves.

We still needed to find an attorney and draw up the papers.

Daniel and I got together over the papers they would need for the license application.  I pointed out that I needed to go back to Tesco to print another picture, as it was necessary to have it stamped by the WuYe “logistics’ office and I had misplaced the original.  He looked off into space.  Oh, yeah.  He had taken it home with him, to ask another opinion about the cost.  He had done that, and said the cost was reasonable.  But he had put the photo aside, forgetting that it needed the official stamp.

We had previously agreed that at this point, whatever photo we used wouldn’t matter.  Later, when the Wu Ye was ready to include us in their mall advertising, they would have a proper photo of the actual signage.  I could use this latest mock up received by email today, if the print shop at Tesco succeeded where I failed in opening  it.

It was 11:30.  I still hadn’t eaten.  Things were finally beginning to wind down.  My attention was drifting off.  I wanted food, and sleep, not necessarily in that order.  My first class was at 2 pm, and I still hadn’t done my preparation.  I had English corner at three, and had not yet decided on a topic.

The conversations began to slow.  The knot disentangled.  Rachel’s parents moved towards the door.  Before they left, Rachel said that they would like me to be their guest in their home for dinner.  We worked out when we would all have time for that.  As they left, so did Daniel and his wife.

The plan was laid.  Others would play out their role, and bring me in when needed.  Quickly the area emptied out.  The visitors left, the staff went their ways in groups to lunch.  I went back to the furthest, darkest classroom and lay down on the floor for a quick nap.

Focaccia

May 25

I mentioned that I made six loaves and a focaccia last week.  I don't have much experience buying or eating focaccia, so I'm not sure what this product should look or taste like.  I rely on my recipe book.  Following Reinhart's instructions, more or less, this is what I did.

With the wetter of the two batches of pain a l'ancienne, I made the focaccia.  The oven came with a pan about 3/4" deep.  I lined it with parchment paper, and oiled it.  (Turns out, I didn't need that last step.)  I prepared ahead an olive oil coating.

Filled a small olive jar with olive oil (I love recycled jars).  Pressed three cloves of garlic into it.  Added a bunch of dry Italian herbs mix, added more basil and oregano, salt, pepper and a pinch of hua jiao.  The latter is ground from a hollow seed pod (the dictionary translates it as prickly ash); it has a numbing quality to it when the whole pod is used.  In small doses, it has a lovely taste.  At least, I am partial to it.  It is an important ingredient in the Chinese dish 'ma la dofu', which means numbing hot tofu.  That combines the hua jiao with red pepper in a sauce over cubed silk tofu.

I laid the dough in the pan, a rectangle in the center of a square space.  I then spread it out to cover the pan, dimpling it with my fingers to spread it, trying not to degas it too much.  I laid (instead of pressed, my mistake) some dried tomatoes on top, and proofed it for an hour or so, until it had risen to about an inch high.  Then I spooned the oil dressing all over it.  The instructions said not to worry if it seems like a lot, the dough will absorb it.  Well, even so I think I overdid it.

I baked it for twenty minutes, then removed it from the pan and cooled it on a rack.  I relined the pan with a large sheet of parchment, put the cooled bread back in the pan and wrapped it.  I laid it on the floor of my ebike, and carried it to Web.  It was part of the coffee and bread demonstration Monday.

The students preferred the focaccia.  It was a big hit.  Chinese love greasy food!  The tomatoes, however, had scorched.  I picked most of them off before serving.  Next time I must remember to press them deeper into the crust, so that they become more integrated when the dough rises.

My question now is, how do I display and wrap this bread in the store?  I envision it vacuum wrapped, but I haven't one of those machines.  I am thinking of more and more applications for one, however, so depending on how far the money stretches, I might buy one.  I've purchased a fridge with a big freezer.  It would be helpful to make dough and then freeze it for later use.  Especially if I ever hope to get a day off now and again.

Rye


The rye I ordered arrived Thursday.  I haven't opened the package yet.  Since I've run out of good whole wheat flour, I will experiment with rye recipes next week.

Speaking of next week, I had scheduled vacation days for the end of the month, thinking I had to move out of my apartment.  However, now I don't have to move.  I have some free time, to focus just on getting the store ready as well as baking.

Jane brought a man by the shop last night during my supper hour (which meant that I was still running on the pancakes I had for brunch and nothing more) to plan the electricity, water and basic remodeling.

The store had sent the blueprint as they promised (although I believe Daniel had to call them and remind them; it had not arrived by 3 p.m. as requested, but neither did the remodel man.)  I made a couple of changes to the plan, and we all discussed it.  Jane asked for an interpreter, but all the tutors were on lunch break.  I grabbed the student Jimmy who was finishing up his course ware on the computer before he left for the day.  He is not the most fluent student, but he is brilliant and has quite a vocabulary.

Bali Coffee Investment


Jeff WuGang is back from his three-week business trip.  Since he is the one who introduced me to this investment opportunity, and did the translating during its negotiations, I am eager to talk with him in person.  I let him know by email that I am aggrieved at the breach of contract, no quarterly interest deposit has been paid in a year.  Will the company give my money back without a fight; do they have a valid explanation for a bank snafu, while others have been receiving theirs; or do I have to hire a lawyer.  These are the possibilities.  So I hope to meet him this morning, Friday, before my classes begin.

Jane wants me to meet again with the decorator this evening after work, with a good translator.  But this evening there will be a soiree at the German Restaurant, a city-wide ex pat networking buffet.  I get off early on Fridays so that I can get a good sleep before coming back for a 10 a.m. class on Saturday morning.  A busy Friday night kills my Saturday.

I was whiney with Jane at the end of our first meeting with the contractor.  She suggested I meet him at 9 a.m. Friday morning.  I said No Way.  I didn't have to be so grumpy, she was just making a suggestion in her own way.  When I went back into Web and looked at the clock, I realized I had to get right back into the classroom with no supper.  I had made a stiff cup of black coffee during English Corner at 3:00, and with the empty stomach it really did a number on my equanimity.

She was adamant about meeting with Jeff after work Friday.  I feel like it would be an ambush.  I am hoping to meet him in the morning, and find out whatever I can about the Bali Coffee deal first.  Jane is a tigress about my getting my money back from Bali.  She has offered to give me an interest-free three-year loan when I come to the end of my savings.  Obviously she would prefer, for my sake, that my own savings were sufficient.

Equipment ordering day

Tuesday, May 22.

Daniel is just amazing.  A married man with a son about 9 years old, he had an office job at a trading company.  They live in my neighborhood, and would sometimes give me rides home when he was leaving Web at the same time my shift ended.

He and his wife opened an exporting business with a store front as well, selling kitchen cabinets.

Apparently his little business is doing well, because he quit his day job.  Now his time is his own.

He took his son to school and then swung by for me.  We drove to the restaurant equipment shop and although it was not yet eight o'clock, they were open.

We bought the heavy stuff.  A dough mixer, proofing box, cooling racks, refrigerator, tables.  The smaller stuff, like trays and bench scrapers, bowls and so much more, we would do next week.  They are at a different location, probably next door to their cramped store where we were shopping.  Most everything I wanted was probably in stock, so there is no hurry.

Daniel and I then came home to my place, and he set up his computer on the coffee table.  He finally found the same JUSTA oven at a better price.  He spoke with the vendor (online chat feature that is common at these online shopping sites) and got everything arranged.

I tried to pay for it, but there was a hiccup.  The bank limits my online purchase account to 5,000 rmb.  No problem, the vendor broke the purchase up to two items.  I paid one immediately, and the next day sent the second payment.  On Wednesday the vendor called me to confirm the shipping address.  She said it would arrive in a week.

With Daniel's help I also connected with a grain shop selling through Taobao.  I ordered rye flour.  She asked me what coarseness I wanted; ground to order!  I only ordered 5 kgs, to try it at first.

On Tuesday I sent to Sophia my order for bread flour, to be translated and sent to Mike.  I included photos. On Wednesday I finally got the prices from Mike.  I'm sending him over 2,000 rmb for 200 kg of flour, and some bran.  Now I wonder if I can't get better prices directly through Taobao.  That would be an ironic twist to a long saga.  Daniel and I will have to have another online chat session with the Rye flour lady.

I had no breakfast.  At lunch time we were both starved, but our transactions were still in process.  I had very little fresh food in the house.  I whipped together an omelet with eggs and powdered milk.  For filling I carmelized onions, then added sun-dried tomatoes and some kalimata olives, Italian herbs and a pinch of hua jiao.  I served it with toasted bread I had made last night, and a fresh pot of coffee.  He seemed satisfied.  He is delightfully open to new taste experiences.

He said he is frustrated with his English skills.  He's been studying ten years, he says, and he still can't speak it well.  Perhaps, then, spending a day with me was also beneficial for him and his English skills.  I hope so, I hope he got something out of it because he was an enormous help to me.

In the end, not counting the oven, I spent 13,000 rmb.

The apartment landlady came by, too, as the rent is due.  There went another 18,000.  How much longer before the well runs dry.

The restaurant equipment store has an added service.  They come to your site and do a floor layout for you. They came Wednesday.  They took Daniel and me to another bakery, so we could better visualize how we wanted everything.  This helped them, and me.  They would finish the drawing and fax it to me in time for the remodeler who would come to my shop Thursday at 3, as Jane arranged.

Ovens

Sunday was a very hot day, in the high 80s.  I needed cooling off.  I walked down the block to Happiness bakery for a red rice and oat smoothie.  I asked them to make it extra icey.

While I was waiting for them to whip that up, I took a long look at their small bakery area.  I noticed a proofing box.  Their oven was three-tiered, with digital controls.  One of the floor staff asked if I wanted help.  I asked her if the oven had a water mister.  She said of course not.  But a gentleman not wearing whites, but black trousers and a white shirt, heard the question and gave a different answer.  He was inside the kitchen near the oven.  He pointed to something on the digital control panel and said yes, it could mist water.  I noticed the brand name.

I found it through Alibaba.com.  The description did not specifically say it offered that feature, so I have to try to initiate a chat at their web site with one of the sales reps.

Monday evening I rode my bike to Tesco to pick up some groceries.  On the way I found that the new restaurant equipment store was receiving a shipment.  The door was open, workers were hauling stuff in, but the lights were not on.  I went in anyway.  I spoke to a man sitting at a desk, supervising the delivery people.  I gave him the manufacturer's name and location, and the oven model name and number.  Fireking out of Shenzhen, and SunStar ovens model HDQ-40, as best I could recall.  He said he'd give them a call and get back to me.  I left him my phone number.

In the end, that oven proved to be very, very expensive.  Instead, Daniel found another online.  It only cost 7,800 rmb (a little over $1,000), it has the steam feature and is two decks.  The brand is JUSTA, Lancaster model.

Canadian Hard Spring Wheat

May 7

Ah, these days off are too short.

I had whipped up a sponge Saturday night, after the walk in the park with Jane and her family.  I chose to finally use the sample of Canadian hard spring wheat.

This flour has a strange color; brownish.  I opened the sealed bag and a strange odor rose.  The closest name I could attach to it was chocolate, though obviously it wasn't chocolate.  It has a lot of large and small bran flakes.  I mixed it with the water and yeast, thinking I would make another ciabatta.  But Sunday night I rethought that idea.  I didn't think it would work as ciabatta.

I left the sponge out for four hours, and it didn't seem to be bubbling up.  I left it another hour, then put it in the fridge.  As I moved the bowl, it did give a ripple and a burp.  The yeast was active.

I am amazed at the generosity of these Changzhou people.  On Saturday night Jane took me to her mother-in-law's for dinner, where I met her father, her son, her husband and also her girl friend who is a cop like Jane's husband.  After dinner we strolled through the very big park until we reached the dancing plaza.  I tried the line dance they were doing.  Her mother-in-law...or was it her mother?..was already there in the middle of the lineup.  I finally excused myself; it was 8 pm and I was eager to whip up a sponge.

My bag was still in her car, which was in the apartment complex underground garage.  But I had taken my keys with me, and my cell phone.  So I rode my ebike home.  She insisted that the next morning she would pick me up because she wanted to see the house Lisa is giving me.  She seemed to have her doubts.

Sunday she came by at 11:30 to my apartment.  Her nine-year old son was in the back seat.  She said he insisted on coming with her to get me, that he really liked me and was calling me grandma.  He's a cute kid.

As soon as I got in the car she said we'd go to her mother's for lunch.  I had already prepared a salad for myself, which I had left in the fridge thinking she'd drop me back to my flat in time for me to ride my bike to work, at 1 p.m.

I persuaded her to take a look first at Lisa's house, at Zhong Tian Ming Yuan.  OK, she said, but afterwards we were going to eat with her parents.

Amazingly, when I tried the door to Lisa's house it was unlocked.  We went inside and looked around; I gave her an idea of how it would develop.  She was nodding her head in agreement as we wondered the three stories; she saw it, she got the picture.

We further discussed the next step of getting the business license so that I could get a visa.  For a business visa you must have a letter from a company saying you were a foreign expert whose consultations were critical to your business.  Could I write a letter for myself?  I still hadn't quite figured out how that would work, when she said no, I shouldn't get a business license yet.

But what about the visa?  She said that her company would sponsor me for the visa.  Her husband the policeman would shepherd the application through the system.  Problem solved.

Or so it appears.  Things in China aren't always as they seem.  But at least we have a plan.

Then it was time to go to lunch.  Her parents have a large flat on a modest fifth floor of a 28 floor building.  It has four bedrooms.  One is used for an exercise room, another for an office, and the third for the grandchild's sleepovers.

Both her parents seemed young, though Jane said they were 60 and 62.  The father has a business which seems to be that of a landscape architect.  Putting in gardens around new buildings, was sort of how Jane explained it.  I typed out those words on my phone and she looked them up on her phone's better dictionary.  She seemed confident in that translation.

I am still not sure who we saw dancing in the square the previous night.  I need to get to know the two mothers better in order to tell them apart.

Her mother's apartment building is one that I watched being built.  It is next to the new elevated road, on the left of the lane.  When I first came to Changzhou I lived in University Town and worked at the Mechatronics College, so I would ride my bicycle to the RT supermart.  It is a superstore where I could get everything I needed, including pet supplies, gardening supplies, clothing, shoes and of course, groceries and alcohol.

But then the construction began on that section of the elevated road, closing off all access to RT mart from their south entrance.  One had to go north one very long block and circle around to get back to that south entrance.  I think their business dropped off seriously during those long months of construction.

My second year in Changzhou was also in the same neighborhood of University Town; I had moved east a block on the same avenue.  RT was still my store of choice, especially once the construction was completed and it could be accessed directly from the south again.

That tall new building which would become home to Jane's parents had yet to be landscaped, however.  A pond was being built between it and the elevated road, on both sides of the lane I traversed to and from RT mart.

First a huge machine came in and punched holes in the concrete of the portion of that short lane that had previously been finished.  By this time I had an ebike.  It was like an obstacle course, trying to avoid the holes.  But there couldn't be more than six inches between them, and they were randomly placed, so I hit my fair share of them.  Then the last 20 meters were as yet unpaved, pipes were being laid.  During rainy season it was sheer mud.  I doggedly steered my electric bike through the ruts and up and down the mounds and gulleys.  Then finally one day the entrance to that 1/4 mile road was actually roped off.  The guards that stood at the apartment complex gate on the right saw to it that no one tried to pass through the ropes.  Anyway, the drop off from the asphalted portion to the as yet unpaved portion was a foot or more.  It stayed that way for at least a month.  I constantly asked them, in my mind, how long does it take to pave one small strip of road?

Sunday the drive to Jane's parents' apartment was a smooth one, and a beautifully landscaped one.

From the window of the apartment, which is south-facing, a looked down on the other new development, a gated community of townhouses with peaked roofs.  I have admired them for a long time now, thinking that if I settled down in Changzhou that's the sort of place I'd like best to live in.  It was delightful to actually see the property close up, so to speak, rather than just passing by the gate.

A narrow east-west channel separated the two properties.  The channel is bordered by thick trees, adding privacy to the homes.  There is a swimming pool under construction in front of one of the buildings.  I am not sure, but I think there are four attached townhouses in a row.  That is the arrangement at Lisa's development, at least.  The yards immediately across from the apartment balcony were attractive.  One actually was all lawn, with a curved sidewalk in the middle of it.  The one to the right of that was much more typically Chinese, being mostly paved with cut stone and low walls.

When I see how these two ladies, Jane and Lisa, seem so committed to my success, I have to marvel at it.  I speculate about the psychology of it, their motivation.  Changzhou has gotten wealthy very, very fast.  Students have told me what the city looked like ten years ago.  The change is dramatic.  Can it be that these people are also somewhat amazed at the rapid rise of their personal wealth?  I wonder.  Clearly, this has been a farming community until just recently.  Many of my students talk about visiting their parents and grandparents 'in the countryside'.  I was invited along one time, and the house was indeed in the middle of planted fields.  I myself have ridden the ebike to the edge of the city and discovered simple farm homes with their large fields, some hydroponic applications, and some fish farms.

Perhaps they are still simple farmers at heart.  Farmers have a hard life, being subject to the whims of nature.  This can foster a close communities, interdependent, families lending a hand to each other when and where it is needed.  And maybe this generous caring spirit is still alive and well in the hearts that beat in the chests of the kind folk of Changzhou.

Life has taught me to be a bit of a cynic, to expect everyone to put their own self-interests first.  I look at the people I have met while teaching at Web, and all I see are simple-hearted, sincere and generous people.  I cannot see greed or superficial status building behind their actions.  They have nothing to gain from helping me.  They are just nice people!

Canadian Hard Spring Wheat
Getting back to today's bread experiment, I labored over the books until I had figured out how to convert the ciabatta sponge into a sandwich loaf dough.  I was surprised to find that the sponge used far less yeast than I would have used had I been making a sandwich loaf sponge.

I used some white unbleached bread flour for the rest of the batter, a little dry milk powder, clover honey and a small amount of olive oil.  And lots of yeast.

First proofing
While the dough was having its first rise, which would take up to two hours, I rode the ebike to the garden market.  It was much larger than I had realized on my previous visit, and I wandered up and down the lanes of stalls with a big grin on my face.  It was so lovely to see so many old 'friends' again.  Honeysuckle bushes, gardenias, peonies, and lots of shade-loving green plants.  I saw quite a few pots of spearmint and peppermint, but no other herbs.

I forced myself to break off the strolling and get back to business.  I found the young man I had spoken with on my previous visit.  I got a large sack of soil and two large round plastic pots for sixty rmb, less than $10.  I layed the dirt sack crosswise at my feet, and the pots on their side on top of the sack.  My knees straddled the pots, my feet rested on the sack.

I took that directly to Lisa's house and left it there, outside.  I'll have to get someone to help me carry the sack up to the third-floor balcony (not second floor, as I previously reported).  This week or next I will bring the herb seedlings there and transplant them.  I need to buy a five gallon bottle of water, since the house still is without utility service.

The batter was way too wet.  I still have never been able to use all the water that Ruth Levy Beranbaum requires in her pullman loaf.  I should have kneaded it for ten minutes after I first mixed it, but it was too wet.  I let it rest, then kneaded it for five minutes since by then some of the moisture had been absorbed.  I used copious amounts of flour to dust the board, working it in to the dough as I kneaded.

While it was rising the second time I constructed a couche, because there would not be enough dough to make a decent high loaf in the loaf pan.  I used aluminum foil, which Peter never mentions.  I made two long wells about two and a half inches wide, sprayed liberally with oil and then dusted.  After about an hour and a half of the second rise I dumped the dough out again on the board, but while in the bowl, using the bench scraper, I divided it in two.

I shaped each one into a squat batard, stretched them long to put tension on the skin, and laid them in their wells.  I sprayed oil on the plastic wrap and covered them. I could see that they would rise to join at the middle seam.  It was just an experiment, I had ripped off a random length of aluminum foil and that's as far as it went.

I baked the two loaves for 50 minutes; the tops were almost scorched, as I had this time set the rack higher, more towards the middle.  I only tossed in ice cubes, about half a cup, and sprayed at 30 second intervals.  I did not use the water pan.  I feel it blocks the heat and causes uneven baking, in such a small oven, so I'm not using it.

It is hard to describe the taste of this bread.  It is chewy, a nice crust.  I would say that the flavors are not subtle, but rather heavy as well as hearty.  There is a slight tingly sensation to the aftertaste. Perhaps slightly sour.

Falling into place

Monday.  I baked six loaves of bread (pain a l'ancienne) and a focaccia.

The first time I did the pan a l'ancienne I used the 'basic flour 13% protein'.  The bread did not brown, but remained a pale white.  This time I used the farmer's hard winter wheat flour, and the results were extraordinary.  Lovely golden color, good rise, nice crumb.  The first batch was stiff; I held back 1 1/2 ozs water.  The crumb of that one was good, chewy.  The second batch I made very wet, using all the water.The crumb on that one was far more moist, the crust softer.  This one, I thought, would appeal more to the Chinese taste.

Toasted, the crust turned a lovely light brown and gave off a sweeter taste.

I gave one of the loaves to Klaus, at the German restaurant.  He knows I am courting their business.  I handed it to him over the bar and he immediately sped off through the kitchen door to slice and try it, muttering something gleeful.  After a couple minutes I went back downstairs, to Web.

I brought a loaf to Web on my day off, to let the students have a try.  It was 4:00 when I arrived, having an appointment with the landlady at that time.  I didn't see her at first, was focusing on setting up my little impromptu display.

A few minutes after four she arrived.  I took her into one of the classrooms.  I gave her the money, a half-year's rent, and she wrote me a receipt.

Signing the lease


I lose track of time.  My head is spinning, so much going on.  It must have been Sunday when the landlady came to see me in the afternoon, while I was working.  I had a free hour.  I looked around for a translator.  In the Social club, at the back wall, all in a row were my three favorite translator.  I picked Shirley, who had just returned from a fun ladies-only trip to Yunnan with her old friends.  She had a pound of fresh roasted whole-bean Yunnan coffee to give me.   But first, business.

The three of us talked about the terms of our rental agreement.  Then Shirley went off to my desk and searched for a contract online.  She downloaded and printed one, in duplicate.  We filled it in, signed it, and it was a done deal.  That's when we arranged for her to return Monday at 4 to pick up the deposit.

Demonstrating Bread and Coffee


Rachel was holding a class in the Social Club/English Corner space.  Web offers these free group classes to the enrolled students frequently throughout the day, led by the Chinese tutors.  The foreign teachers only offer two a day.

I had my bread sliced, I had ground the coffee, I was all ready to pour hot water into the Boudum Press.  I waited eagerly for her to finish, or for her to wind up early and give me the floor.  She could see I had something up my sleeve.

With just eight minutes left before everyone left for the dinner break, I got her attention and she gladly yielded the floor to me.  I poured out the coffee, sliced up the bread, and everyone--students and tutors--were willing guinea pigs.  I brought the drier of the loaves.  I would bake the wetter loaves in the evening.  Never mind, they seemed to love it.  I am slowly building my customer base.

I wished I had done the coffee better.  I wanted them to try it with milk and sugar.  Black coffee is a bit of a shock for them.  On my part, I was very pleased with the coffee Shirley had brought me.  I thought it held up very well to any American supermarket's bean coffee.  The Yunnan bean naturally has a slight cinnamon taste.  It is delightfully distinctive.

I had told Rena and the other tutors that fresh ground brewed coffee was not as bitter as the espresso they are used to.  But their comments about this coffee was 'bitter'.  Sigh.  Yes, coffee is bitter.  You can soften the bitterness with milk, but it will always be a characteristic of coffee.  The young Chinese love coffee, the idea of coffee, so I need to stop selling the 'you won't taste the bitterness' pitch.  To me, there is bitter and then there is bitter.  Poorly made, stale espresso is unpalatably bitter.  That matters to me, but it is a difference unteachable to the Chinese.  As their tastes become more accustomed and subtler, they will see it for themselves.

I went home and baked the rest of the dough that had been fermenting, and tried to relax a little.  Tomorrow would be the day to finally buy the equipment.

The New Town shopping mall

Sunday May 20, 2012

I finished watching a movie ‘21’ with Jim Sturgess and Kevin Spacey around 9:30.  I went to bed and read The bonesetter’s daughter, an Amy Tan novel, until I dropped off to sleep.  That’s our Book Club book of the month.  I awoke during the night, as usual these days.  I got up at 4:30 and wrote into my journal for an hour, since it had been some days now that I have neglected that.  When I went back to bed I put on the sleeping mask and earplugs; I felt tired to the bone.

I heard the cell phone ring.  The Jamaican calypso steel drum followed by the sound of a marble bouncing.  I dazedly got out of bed and walked to the other room, fishing around my purse for the phone.  Daniel was on the line, it was 9:10, and he informed me that the landlady had called him and asked to meet at 9:30.  Oi.

Yesterday it rained cats and dogs.  Today, I heard, it wasn’t going to rain.  I confidently put on long pants and a short sleeved shirts, and sandals.  I rode the elevator down, walked out to the front gate and looked for Daniel.  He hadn’t arrived yet, so I scurried back to my room for a sweater and socks.  It was 60 some degrees out there!

Daniel and his son arrived.  Yesterday it was chess lessons, today the boy was going to play ping pong.  We drove to the Xin Cheng Shang Jie (the New Town) shopping plaza; Jane was already there.  He had called her.

Meeting the landlady

In short order the landlady arrived.  Daniel excused himself, and took his son to his play date.  The landlady is a fashionable lady, with a pixie hair cut.  Jane explained that I was planning on making western style breads.  As she and Jane chatted, she said she had a business in the neighborhood too, and would steer her customers to me.

Jane told the woman we wanted a 2-year lease, with us just paying the first year upfront.  The landlady said she would not charge us during the remodeling phase.  This meant the rent would begin June 1.  All of this is taking place in front of the shop.  The rusted U-bolt sealed the door; she had no key.  I still haven’t seen the so-called kitchen!  Never mind, whatever it took, I would fix it up.

Next steps: remodeling, decorating, buying equipment


On the drive home, Jane asked me to show her pictures of Panera, as we had talked about previously.  I think she still has in mind it will be an eat-in shop.  I don’t think there will be room for much decoration.  She is eager to begin!

She arranged with Daniel that he will take me Tuesday to the restaurant equipment shops, to buy the equipment.  Then we will call in the electricians and plumbers, to install everything.  The oven is the main thing, of course, and we have to buy that online.  Barring any delays in its arrival, I should have me a professional bakery up and running by June 1.

Since it is downstairs from Web, I can actually do some baking right away.  I suspect that, at least in the beginning, I will have enough helpers for kneading and shaping the dough.  I can imagine that the July Web ECA will be a trip to the baker’s, and baking your own bread.  Since rolls can bake in only 20 minutes, everyone can walk away with something in their hand.  this should be my first money-making venture.  Everyone should have a good time.

The location is perfect.