August Moon

When I need a really good sleep I use earplugs.  They are in short supply, disposables, so I don't use them often.  Even with the earplugs, as dawn crept through the curtains I heard drums, bells and chanting.  I united my heart with the prayers rising on the wind, and kept my weary bones in bed.

At last I heard the rapid paced chanting and drumming that I now know is the final prayer, so I got up and looked out the window.  I threw on a dress and grabbed the camera. I took a picture from my bedroom window before I got in the elevator, knowing it would all disappear quickly.

The red cushions were filled with bowing neighbors just moments before, the table resplendent with fruit offerings and candles. The tree (lower right) obscures the offering fire, and the picture of the Buddha.  At the center of it all is Guanyi, whom the Tibetans believe is Avalokitishvara or Chengrezig.

The monks have removed their saffron robes (they must be hot) and pass items down from the elaborately constructed altar.  Soon I see these tables carried back to the elevators and apartments.

Yesterday Shirley came by the bakery to pick up her order of 15 cinnamon buns to take to Shanghai Monday.  She arrived after six, much later than she said she would.  I should have gone home, I had been there twelve hours, but it was the dishwasher's day off so I was sweeping up the accumulation of crumbs, washing the floors, and such.  I asked her where she had been all day. She said she went to her husband's family home in the countryside to make offerings, because it was 'the day of the ghosts'.

I took note of the phase of the moon on August 26, and noticed it was a waxing half moon.

Whatever this auspicious time is in the Buddhist calendar, my neighbors are marking it with prayer and burnt offerings to the dead.

I have noticed for weeks now that the little old ladies who sit under the eaves of the building were folding these papers, accumulating sacks of them.  This wall is part of the stairwell on the ground floor.  There's also a service closet, near the elevator, loaded with them.

This kind of open fire would be unthinkable in the States.  In fact, while I was standing there a wind blew cinder to the tree and shrubs.  But there were enough glowing embers remaining for one slow poke to place her offering.

I see I also captured the three-wheeled bike.  Those blue bikes, some of which have electric motors, many of which are still powered by foot pedaling, are ubiquitous.  You can also see a bit of a monk's saffron robe at the right edge of the photo, and the Buddha picture in front of the garbage can.  This picture was just before the gust of wind scattered the embers into the bushes, chased by ladies with straw brooms.

It seemed to take only moments before the tables were lined up to be taken back on the elevators to their apartments.  The monks pitched right in with the lifting and carrying.  That is a monk in the middle of the picture.

Ah well, it's supposed to be my day off today, Monday.  I can catch up on the zzz's later, I guess.  I may as well go in to the bakery and worked on the ciabatta.  We have a standing order for three 12" ciabatta three times a week.  Yesterday Peter, then Peter and I made two attempts.  We didn't get it right, wasted a lot of expensive filling in the process.  I'd better take care of it myself, or lose the account.

Improvements on the business end

August 23

Finally beginning to get a handle on the business side of things.  We are making progress getting our records into the computer.  Rachel translated our Metro (wholesale outlet, like Costco) invoices into English.  Next, Tina converted the prices into per gram and per ounce, of ingredients we use regularly in the recipes.

Tina

Tina is a handful.  With her round face and big bones she is not of the long lythe type of Chinese woman.  She tends to carry in her hand a round paper fan on a stick.  When I notice this I think 'vapors'. We have the air conditioner on usually, it isn't that hot in the bakery.  It seems to be a habit.

She is either giggly (me:  I think we baked this a little too long.  Her:  giggle.  Me:  The focaccia seems to be selling better than the ciabatta.  Her:  giggle) or pouty.  She sashays to the work table, puts her fan down,  and sighs. Her English is atrocious.  She mumbles a noun or two.  A moment later I'll ask her where something is.  She'll say she just told me.

"You did?  What did you say?"

"I said 'It's the sugar'."

"Telling me something goes like this:  Satina, I put the new sugar over here.'"

Nod.

But she'll do it again.

Now that Peter is working with us, she feels she is the teacher.  I left him on his own to figure something out, after reviewing the basics with him first.  I caught her standing across the work bench with him talking in Chinese instructing him.  I told him I wanted a sponge.  She was telling him to add a blanket to it.  (A sponge is a pre-ferment.  If we add a blanket of the remainder of the recipe's dry ingredients, we have committed to that particular bread.  If we leave it overnight without a 'blanket', the next day we can divide it and make many different breads with the added dry ingredients).  In a neutral voice I asked her to leave the kitchen.  She returned to the front of the shop where XiaoLan was cleaning.

Peter and I then figured we'd have to increase the amount of sponge to compensate for the added flour.  Fortunately a sponge can rest in the fridge for a couple of days, we needn't use it all up the next day.

I then spoke to Tina.  She is not the instructor, I am.  Although we are all students, I am the senior one and hence the instructor.

Obviously, she feels threatened by Peter.

I need to have a further talk with her.  She needs to understand the uniqueness of her contribution, so that she will not feel in direct competition with Peter.  She is quite insecure.

On the other hand, she is increasingly thinking on her own without asking me.  She is making some excellent decisions, and taking care of things without burdening me.

Too many cooks..

We seem to be overstaffed.  We could really handle things well without Rachel and her mom, XiaoLan.  Rachel's main help has been to work with me to get the company business license application completed, so that we will have that before my visa expires.  She also helps with translations.  Xiao Lan does an excellent job of keeping the floors, windows and work space sparkling clean.  I love it.  However, we three bakers could do our own pot washing, and during those down times waiting for breads to ferment or bake we could be doing the other cleaning.  Since XiaoLan's name is on the business license, it is a delicate situation to tell her to stay home.  I wish she did not require a salary.  At first, months ago, Rachel said her mom wouldn't want a salary, would just want to help out. But when it came down to it, she asked for a salary.

So I watch my money fly out the window.  I've paid for the wine for the wine tasting, and bought cheeses, and now my bank balance has become dangerously low.  I keep hoping for the September turn around, as the foreign teachers arrive.  If it doesn't happen, we'll be in serious trouble by December.

Therefore, getting sorted out to determine the cost of product is crucial at this point.  At the moment, our prices are random.  I noticed that the price of white bread has sunk from 16 rmb to 12 rmb.  I don't know whose that decision was, because without firm data to back up my decision I just stay out of it.

When a new item comes out of the oven, Tina will lean over the work table on her elbows, look at it and ask:  How much is it?  I turn the question back to her.  How much do you think we should charge?  I always price things cheaper than she does, so now I leave it up to her.  Soon I will have actual data, though.  It will be interesting to see if there is a significant change in price as a result.

Commercial customers

I sent another sample up to Johnny at Jolly's last week.  I made the loaf of bread larger, as he asked.  I standardized the size of the hamburger bun, I sent him a few sample buns.

I asked Tina to call today to get his response.  He said the buns needed to be softer!!!  This is not possible without chemical dough conditioners, so he is obviously not really interested in my bread.  He is just all talk.  As for the loaf, he said again he wanted the multigrain (but not for sandwiches.  The sandwich bread needs to be soft)

Today I bought a large attractive basket through Taobao.  I will send it to his restaurant with some breads for sale.  We'll see if he comes through on that side of the business.

Meanwhile, Klaus upstairs at the German restaurant has put in a steady order of three 12 inch ciabatta every two days.  Well, three times a week.  He also called with a special order.  He has a catering job, for which he needs hot dog buns.  He asked if I could do it.  I said, 'Of course.'

The next day I experimented, and we both were pleased with the results.  I priced them too low.  He doubled the price he'll give me, and ordered 180 to be cooled and ready by 10 a.m. Saturday.  That's about the income of a normal weekday.  That's Tina's day off, and the day I expect foreigners to drop in.  It will be an interesting, long day.  Rachel is also not available, because Saturdays are busy at Web as well.
  

Creating buzz

Not being tied down to a teaching schedule allows me more flexibility to attend ex pat events.

OIC
Thursday night there was an event right upstairs from the bakery, at the German restaurant.  There is a chain of schools in China that are built on the British model, and called 'Oxford International College'.  This one is k-12, although sometimes they just focus on high school and A levels.

Through Facebook, some of the 15 foreign teachers had already found my place.  To my surprise and mild disappointment, they prefer my white bread over the whole grain.  Business is business, however, and I am just happy to make a sale.  They invited me to their promotional event, where they hoped to create some buzz for themselves. Theirs is a new school in Changzhou, setting up in temporary quarters until they can build their own campus just a mile or so from my bakery.

The event was very poorly organized.  Once orders started going into the kitchen, it seemed they would never come out.  This is not normal service at the German restaurant, and so I thought something was amiss. During the evening I told Klaus that we needed to talk.  He, too, had something he wanted to talk with me about.  The next day I sat down with Klaus and we discussed our interests.  I couldn't help but bring up the previous evening, with empathy.  He explained how many times in the past two weeks they had changed their minds, about venue, menu, size and just about every aspect of it.  In the end he understood that there would only be about 20 people, and they would not be eating but just having drinks.  He staffed accordingly.

About sixty people showed up, and after drinking a while, they decided to order dinner.

Last year Lori, the Rain Girl, was teaching at a similar local high school geared to a western curriculum.  That school contracted with outside agencies to staff their foreign teachers for science, math, history and English rhetoric and literature.  Lori taught the latter, also focusing on preparing them for their APs.  Through her I got a glimpse of the chaos that can arise when staffing is bi or multi cultural.  The Chinese have their way of doing things, and even if their curriculum is geared to the west, they will only minimally listen to the advice and suggestions of their western teachers.

So the OIC will have a long and painful learning curve as they try to integrate their staffs and present a unified face to the community.

The OIC team hoped the even would be a recruiting and sign up event, too.  But who were they recruiting?  They had told Klaus that he should talk up the event to his clients, and for each child signed up he'd get a bonus.  But Klaus's clientele are mostly bachelors!  The poor guys who have come from Germany and other European countries unaccompanied, and without domestic help.  They eat out frequently, and hang out at the bar to socialize with other guys.  Being new to the community, the OIC team had no feel about these matters.   They are groping about trying to get a hook into the ex pat community, to get their children signed up.  But few young families choose to live in Changzhou.  There were a few Chinese families at the event, no doubt friends of the Chinese staff.

During the evening I discovered that most of the foreign staff were already aware of the 'bread lady.'  A couple of them sat me down and went on about the school lunches.  They are not so open to the Chinese food, being greasy and full of MSG.  They long for sandwiches.  They proposed that I send out sandwiches to them each day.  They told me the man to talk to, to get it organized.

I did phone him, Desmond, the next day.  The ex pat staff pointed out this assistant head teacher as the mover and shaker among the Chinese staff.  He said I needed to send him a menu and a price list.  I did that.  Now we'll see how long it takes him to get back to me.

Meanwhile, since I don't want to get involved in baking meats, I spoke with Klaus about collaborating on this.  He said that they had approached him also on the same problem.  He could easily roast beef for me, and also chicken breasts.  I thought to offer tuna salad sandwiches, and a choice of either Edam or cheddar cheeses.  I have those two on hand already.  The suggested price was very high, at about 30 rmb per sandwich.  This was the price suggested to me by the ex pats, and Klaus agreed.  So we'll wait and see.

Klaus, for his part, wanted to talk with me about the change in his menu.  He asked me if I couldn't supply him with a long ciabatta, which he could slice up and serve.  I am not clear if this was to be something on the menu, or the free bread basket. I gave him a sample the next day, filled with sliced black olives, pesto sauce and a drizzle of olive oil, topped with a sprinkling of parmesan.  The dough was prepared with dried tomatoes baked right in.

Wine Tasting Party
Speaking of cheeses leads me to the second attempt at buzz-creating.  I have decided on doing a wine tasting party.  Rachel's dad is a wine distributor, so he has picked out three nice wines from France Oldenburg de Lafia.  I never heard of the winery, but that doesn't mean much.  I always buy the low-end wines. The distributor in Shanghai requires that I buy five cases!  I'm also buying a white Chinese wine (probably a Chardonnay) and a high-end Chinese wine of the same variety as the French wines, Cabernet.  I'm also buying Merlot for the sampling, from the same French winery.

For all this, tomorrow I must fork over 5,500 rmb to Rachel's father.  Now, I was hoping to invite 20 people to come, at 100 rmb per head.  That's only 2,000 rmb!  I went back to the Facebook page where I posted the event and raised the price per ticket to 150 rmb, and expanded the 'guest list' to 30 people.  If the weather cooperates, I should be able to have a small grouping of people outside as well.  I won't provide tables, but at least benches for seating.

The cheeses are pricey as well.  I'm planning on either an Edam or an Ementhaler, an Irish "Kerrygold" brand mild cheddar, and a tiny Camembert.  Then I'll have to bake up some breads to go with all of that.  Probably the lean, unenriched breads are the best.  Their simplicity should be a good backdrop for the other rich flavors of cheese and wine.  Should I also offer a sausage?  Please comment.  There is an abundance of what is called 'Taiwanese sausage' available in the supermarkets.  I could roast them in the oven and slice them alongside the cheeses.  I don't have a chaffing dish in which to keep them warm.  So should I bother at all?  And what about fruit.  Should I also have some grapes, sliced apples, and yellow mellons?

I don't want to go into debt for this, but I also want to make it elegant, a night to remember.  I'm hoping against hope that some of the people will want to walk away with some of these wines.  If I offer it at the price I'm buying it at (and I do hope I'm getting a better price than at a retail shop), they might be motivated to buy.  Then I have a better chance of breaking even.

He is gifting me with two cases of Australian wine.  I would love to savor them for myself, or save them for Christmas presents, but I suspect that I will have to find a way to sell them to earn back my investment in the evening.

The Monkey King
Just two nights after this, on Saturday, there was another ex pat dinner.  This group had met twice before over the past four or six months, though we are no formal group.  Again, a note is placed on Facebook, and we congregate.

AnnMarie came down from Xin Bei and asked if I could bring some bread for her.  So I did bring a bunch of bread, though the particular kind she wanted had sold out.  It is tacky to try to sell bread at an event like that.  I did it the last time, too, because the event was upstairs at the German place.  I'll have to refrain from doing it again.  This evening no one but AnnMarie bought.

This dinner was held at the new Italian restaurant.  Coincidentally, I met the head chef and the hostess at the police station when I went to renew my visa last time.  I saw that the chef, who is Italian from Sardinia, had a company business license.  Yet I would consider a restaurant to be the same category as a bakery!  So I asked them about it.  They gave me the phone number of an agency.  It is the same agency whose phone number I attained three weeks ago when I went to the appropriate government office myself.  Those people don't speak English, and so I had made no headway.

This time Rachel knuckled down and focused on helping me through the process.  Previously she had spoken to that agent on the phone and learned what I had to do, but never got around to sitting with me and going through it all.  Now we have all the wrinkles ironed out, and should be able to submit the application this week.  It will still take four to six weeks, which is longer than my visa.  The policeman told me that he wouldn't be able to renew my tourist visa again.  So around Sept. 9 things will come to a head again.

After the revelers left the Italian restaurant, I sat with Alex, the chef, and asked him what kind of visa he was able to get with his company license.  He was vague, and didn't remember exactly.  First he said it was a one-year business visa, then he called it a Z visa (work visa).  He makes his own breads for the table baskets, and of course, his own pizza dough.  The pizza is to die for.  I asked where he got his bread flour.  He said he buys it locally.  We compared prices.  My price, brought down from Shandong, is cheaper than his.  But is his flour really hard-wheat bread flour?  Well, the breads all tasted very good.  We'll have another discussion when we both have time, and find out more.  If I can buy 200 kgs and split the per kilo cost, shipping charges, and storage with him, it would be a bonus for us both.

His restaurant is called 'Monkey King'.  There has been a restaurant with that name in Xin Bei as long as I have been in Changzhou.  I am curious about the relationship between the two.

The cinnamon buns were a real hit; they sold out, all 13 of them.  Well, more like ten after we all sampled them.  I wanted to staff to know what they tasted like.  So I made them again Sunday, all in one day (the other batch sat in the fridge two days).  The dough came out very different!  There were only about seven.  I wonder if I somehow killed the yeast.  I don't know!  Never mind, not much foot traffic today, so they won't sell out.  What sold today is the carrot muffin, which I made a week ago and froze.

In the bakery this weekend
The focaccia was baked early in the day.  I should have waited, because that is usually a late afternoon item. Sitting on the counter all sliced up, they must be getting a little stale.  I should encourage the staff to offer to heat them up for the customer.  Our ovens stay warm enough to do this easily.

I tried making the miche again, but I believe I've lost my touch for the sourdough.  This batch died, and the dough never rose.  I use the whole grain flour for that, which is much more expensive than my usual flour, so it was a noticeable waste of money.  I shall have to get serious about sourdoughs again.  This is not something you can do slapdash, keeping a sourdough alive takes careful attention.  I still have a small amount alive, but I am starting another one now.  Tomorrow is the fourth day, after which it will be ready to build a barm.

Saturday is Tina's day off.  Peter (the new baker apprentice), Xiao Lan (the dishwasher, Rachel's mother, and the name on my business license) and I were here without an interpreter.  It was interesting.  Difficult.  Today I have begun building a vocabulary list, for all of us to study.  I need a printer!  Perhaps tomorrow I can do something about getting my printer fixed.  That will help a lot as we develop menus and check sheets and such.

new workers, new opportunities

I've been too busy to update my blog!  Working seven days a week, long days at that.  And for what?  These dog days of summer have brought us no customers.

I'm biding my time until September, when things will get lively again.  I've arranged the wine tasting evening, with three kinds of red french wines, a comparable Chinese wine, and a Chinese white wine.  Still looking for glasses to rent.

There's a new school in town, the Oxford International College. It is a K-12 school.  They had a networking evening last night, at Jagerwirt's upstairs.  A number of people told me that the food the school serves is unpleasant, loaded with oil and msg.  They would like sandwiches.  They invited me to dialog further with their leadership about it.  I don't do meats, so I will have to collaborate with Klaus to fill this contract.

I met a nice guy, I think his name is Richard, who is the Math teacher.  He wants bread that is not enriched.  He is a vegan, except that he eats fish.

They want white bread and white sourdough loaves.

Meanwhile, Peter started.  Zhuan Xi'an, I think his name is.  I hired him as a baker.  He worked for 85 degrees bakery.  Of course, they are a big chain, sending pre-mixed doughs to each shop.  But he has experience with the kitchen equipment, and has a work ethic (to die for).

Tina is still as cute as ever, but I think I value her bookkeeping skills more than her baking.  She is fey.  We grease our bowls before putting the dough in to rise, for example.  She sprays the oil in, and then brushes it like its a piece of cloth floating lazily in a stream.  I demonstrate for her...swish swish swish and its done.  She prefers her gentle way.  In other words, working efficiently is not her forte, and she does not catch on to the concept easily.

Rachel and her mother work every day.  Rachel works part time. She has been spending a lot of that time helping me get my application ready to become a Chinese company.  Her mother is invaluable.  She is industrious, and she keeps the place spotless.  She plows through a mountain of bowls and bench scrapers, mops the floor ten times a day, and keeps the windows and glass spotless.  She's wonderful!  We miss her on her days off.

Speaking of which, we've been closing Mondays just because there isn't that much business, and also because I don't trust my team yet to spend a day without me.  They need still a bit more training.

I bought a fabulous book, on the suggestion of Peter Reinhardt, called the Bakery Trade.  It tells me so much about every level of starting a small bakery.

My repertoire is expanding.  I've tried the miche that is on the cover of Peter's book, the bakers apprentice.  It is a fabulous sour dough made of 100% rough whole wheat.  Crusty, chewy, tangy.

I'm expanding my ryes.  I haven't found one I like yet.  They are hard, dense, not good rise.  But I do use sourdough with them, to give them great flavor.  They never taste like I expect rye to taste.

Closed on Mondays

I closed the shop to give everyone a day off, and to get caught up on errands.  Still chasing down a good legal status for myself.

I need a statement from my bank saying I have money and am changing $100 every day.  Ridiculous!  But that's the requirement for a tourist.  Got to the bank around 11:20.  It was closed for lunch.  Bummer.  Too far to go home, the bank is near my shop.  I decided to drop in on my neighbor.  They just opened a tea shop.  Fabulous huge wood table, wood from Africa.  Amazing, I'll just have to include a photo.  We sat and drank different teas for an hour.

When I first arrived in China in 2001 I lived in Guangdong province.  Tea culture is very big there.  That is where I learned to sit in a tea shop for hours just sampling one tea after another, and making conversation.  So this interlude was like a blast from the past.  They have great black teas, as well, not just the usual green teas.  Teas from Assam, Darjeeling, Ceylon.  And pu'er tea!  I never knew it could taste like that.  Pu'er may be like oolong that you may be familiar with.  Smokey flavor.  I usually steep it strong.  They steeped it weak, and I discovered new flavors.  They poured me a Ceylon tea mixed with mango, pineapple and I forget what other fruit.  A spectacular tea, quite pleasant on the tongue.

I went back to the bank at 1:00.  Nope, still closed, for another half hour at least.  Now, this is no small branch with three tellers.  This is a huge bank with back rooms for commercial accounts and international wires.  I went off and finally grabbed a bite for lunch, before returning.

I discovered that I had given my U.S. bank the wrong SWIFT code.  There's the Agricultural Bank of China, and the Agricultural Development Bank of China.  This wire was sent on July 25, and I'm only now getting around to checking on it.

So I am up at 2 a.m., calling Seattle to straighten out my mess.  They have to order a recall, and then resend the wire.  Good thing I'm not destitute, waiting on that money.  Had it arrived in a timely manner, however, I could easily have gotten a printout of my bank statement and taken it right back to the police station to process my visa.  The visa expires on Aug. 11, so I can't put it off anymore.  The bank I need to go to for the statement is a long bus ride away.  No local branch can give me a statement.  So I'll have to take more time off from the bakery.

My thinking is, the weekends are more important for the bakery business.  Mid week trade is just for the locals, and they like the sweet things that Tina does so well.  So if I spend Tuesday running around chasing a visa, no harm done.

I have a new worker starting Aug. 12.  He has experience at one of the better bakery chains, called 85 degrees.  I am eager to see what he knows, I suspect he can share a secret or two.  But of course, my way of baking is totally different, so there's a lot for him to learn.  His degree is in sports, he's currently wrapping up a job as swim instructor.  He is tall, whereas Tina and I are short.  He lives near enough so that, once he's trained, we can start opening the kitchen at 6 a.m., having bread on our shelves earlier in the day.  I just hope he melds quickly with our growing little family.  I suppose it takes a lot of luck to find a worker who actually stays.

Rye

I've not been pleased with the results from the rye flour.  I've got a good sourdough started, so on Sunday I began an experiment with a new recipe from Peter's book.

Did I mention that I emailed Peter for some advice, and that he answered me?  It was a thrill for me.  He seems very personable.

This recipe calls for mixing some rye flour into the sourdough starter, and then adding a lot of saute'd onions!  That mixture is still in the fridge, I should have used it yesterday but was too busy.  So today, Tuesday, I'll let it warm to room temperature and begin to make it. Can't wait to see how it will taste.

While at the police station, I ran into two people.  Usually when I go there, there is a foreigner and their Chinese helper.  I seem to be the only one to walk in there on my own.

This foreigner is Italian.  He had a certificate as a Foreign Owned Business.  Wow!  that's what I want.  I asked him what his business was.  He's opening an Italian restaurant downtown.  His helper speaks really good English, so I took her number.  I called her later, but she only referred me back to the agency whose number I already got three weeks ago.  They don't speak English.  Rachel has spoken with them for me, but so far I see no progress.  I want a form to fill out!  Instead I get a list of items, in Chinese, that I need.  Rachel hasn't translated the list yet.

I feel like I'm back to square one.  I think I need to call that woman again and see if I can't persuade her to help me more directly.

Dog Days of Summer

The edges of a typhoon system that passed through the South China Sea gave us a little relief with winds and the occasional shower.  But mostly, we are all slugs moving slowly in a sea of hot air.  Business is down all over.

I decided that, until we have more staff, we are closed Mondays.  It's just as well.  I need to renew my visa today, and check on a wire transfer of funds that is floating out in the electronic airwaves somewhere but after two weeks has not yet landed into my bank account here.  And of course, there are still things we lack in the kitchen.  There's a restaurant supply market at the east end of town, in an area called 'jiu long' or nine dragons.  It's a long bus ride, but I should be able to get everything there.  We need more towels, more bowls, larger plastic boxes.  I hope I remember everything, because I'd rather be sitting at home in an air conditioned room.  That is, I don't want to repeat this trip too often.

Strider, one of my former students at Changzhou University, has put an ad on the internet again to help me find more workers.  I found a guy who looks like a good candidate to learn to be a baker.  He starts Aug. 12.  He graduated from the Engineering college (equivalent to our AA) with a major in sports.  He's a swim coach.  He lives near enough so that I can ask him to open up at 6 am. each day, once he's trained, which will help enormously in our ability to crank out more items suitable to the Chinese lunch habits.

I've made a few trips up to visit Johnny at his restaurant, Jolly's, in Xin Bei.  He is very supportive, but although he doesn't want to admit it, in fact his business is way down too.  He keeps nit picking the things I bring him, but I think it is more that he just hasn't the customer traffic right now to support buying my bread.

I've cultivated a nice sour dough culture.  The taste is good.  Now I have to work on shape and presentation.  I suppose it all has to do with having the right equipment.  This kind of dough is very soft.  The only way to create a nice shape is to support it firmly in something like a mold, from hours of proofing all the way into the oven without ever removing the support.

I made a nice cheese-garlic round loaf.  This will be a nice addition to the menu, once I have regular western customers.

I have a few of my former Web students who make it a point to come in regularly and each time try something different.  I love their spirit!

Another best seller among the Chinese is the cinnamon raisin loaf.  The westerners also buy it, the few who come in.  It's easy to make, I enrich it with whole wheat and oats yet keep the white soft texture.  It bakes up into a nice tall loaf and looks attractive.  We've posted the pics at our web site.  I don't have them on this computer, but you can follow the link:  grandmasnook.com, and then click on the link there which will take you to our blog.

Tina is maintaining the blog. She is such a blessing!  I told her to take the day off today.  She asked if I'd mind her coming in anyway, because she is worried about discouraging the local customer base we're nurturing.

Saturday is her regular day off.  She has Japanese lessons in the afternoon.  I came into the shop that day before 8 bursting with energy and purpose.  The day before I had prepared a large dough base, enough for twenty loaves.  I also had other things on the back burner, like my rustic bread and also the sourdough.

With that huge base, which is made from 50% flour and 100% water fermented overnight with yeast, I was able to come up with a large variety of breads.  For example, 1/4 rye flour, 1/4 rough whole wheat.  Or another using oats, a special Canadian wheat that smells like chocolate, and again the rough whole wheat.  I was able to make three cinnamon loaves with that base as well.

It was a mad house in the kitchen, with all the equipment, doughs, flours and other ingredients spilling out across the work table.  I haven't a large enough plastic box for overnight proofing, so the dough always explodes and seeps out onto the under pan.  I had to keep that messy pan on the table for most of the afternoon, as I gradually dipped into the dough to concoct some other bread.  Xiao Lan is Rachel's mother, and it is her name on my business license.  She has taken the position of our kitchen slave (for a salary).  I kept her sink full the whole day!  When she wasn't washing and drying pots, scrapers, pans, she was mopping up the floor, cleaning surfaces as I moved from the big work table to the small work table and back again.

Some breads I baked the same day.  I good number of them I put in the refrigerator to be baked on Sunday morning.  On Sunday I augmented that start with another batch of a type of bread that doesn't need the overnight fermentation.  I figured that the weekend might bring us in a bit more traffic, so I wanted to have as much on the shelves as I thought would sell.

One hiccup.  On Saturday night I asked the night shift guy to put certain breads in the freezer.  I figured we'd have them for Tuesday, since we're closing Monday.  On Sunday when I came in, Tina had those loaves put back on the shelves already!  The guy had put them in the fridge, not the freezer, and Tina without thinking took everything out of the fridge.  It was frustrating.  At the end of the day I had to throw that stuff out.

Tina wanted to make cranberry butter cookies.  She was well on her way when I arrived at 9.  I was a little worried that she was getting bored with making scones everyday.  They are our best seller, so I don't want a day to go buy without them on the shelf.  We compromised.  After her cookies were done, she'd make scones.

I decided I also needed to make a focaccia.  Customers are coming in asking for that, too.  On Friday I made one that was pizza-like.  I added minced sun-dried tomato to the dough, then before baking I brushed it with garlic olive oil, added pepperoni, and then five minutes before it was fully baked I pulled it out of the oven and added grated cheddar.  That flew off the shelf.

Sunday's was a simpler one.  I soak chopped dry mushrooms, and add them to the dough along with a couple cloves of garlic.  Then I saute fresh mushrooms with five spices seasoning, and add that as a topping before the final proof, along with a layer of olive oil.  I need to find the name of that mushroom.  I love it!  It is all stem, and no head.  It is meaty, with a nice taste.  I chopped it fairly fine before cooking it.

Before I left on Sunday night, I prepared a large biga.  This is a pre-ferment that can sit in the fridge for up to three days.  When I come back to work on Tuesday I can immediately begin some new loaves and have them on the shelf pretty close to noon, when we open.

In our first five days of business we grossed about 1,400 rmb.  Not much, but by gosh it's a start.  It helps to figure out what the customer likes, as well, at least until the westerners start coming in September.

You may not have a sense of salaries.  I pay Tina 2,000 rmb a month; she asked for less.  The new guy will start at 1,800 on probation, and then in three months (sooner if he does well and business has increased) I'll move him up to 2,000.  The kitchen slave makes 1,800, as does the night counter man, who is only working during his summer vacation.

The rent for the shop is 25,000 rmb per year.

I am thinking about publicity.  One vendor came in and made an arrangement with us that he would offer his customers coupons to our shop.  I think it happens on the phone.  Technology beyond me.  For the coupon we offer I think it's 10% off a loaf of bread, and rolls 'buy three get one free'.  We'll see if people start coming in flashing their phone screens at us, asking to redeem the 'coupon'.

I would like to do a wine tasting party at the end of August.  I once ran into a distributor of the Greatwall brand of Chinese wine.  I hope I can find his card again, it's been probably a year since I bumped into him at a supermarket.  I'll have to invest in some good cheeses at Metro (our Costco equivalent), and carefully choose breads.  I'll sell tickets, limiting the number of guests.  This will bring in the westerners who are returning back from their vacations, and hopefully also reach some of the new arrivals.  I need to find the 'tipping point'.  I'm reading that book by Malcolm Gladwell.  Of course, I don't want to find it too soon!  It's important that I have a well-trained staff that can actually crank out volumes of breads, to satisfy the demand when it finally builds.

Opening Day

Anticlimactic might be the right word.

I was in the shop by 3 a.m., getting the doughs, which were started yesterday, on their way to baking.  But not using bread enhancers, all those chemical short cuts used by all other bakeries here, leaves me with a long slow process. By ten there was still no bread on the shelves, though at least one of the ovens was full.

The place looks empty, after all that baking. Yet at the end of the day I may still throw away bread, or try to flog it tomorrow morning as 'day-old'.

It's hard to keep motivated to get up every morning and come to the shop.  How long will it take to build up a customer base?  The summer is vacation time, so there aren't many ex pats around.

I'd like to hire and train two more bakers.  Don't see how I can actually build momentum without more workers, and it takes time to train them.

I have one worker who I think is very good.  She has a college degree, baking experience in a big factory, and some kind of training around running a bakery.  But she is a giggly flighty youngster, for all that.  It's hard for her to gain confidence enough to be decisive.  I seem to repeat myself an awful lot, on basic matters that I consider fundamental.  Even simple matters of hygiene.

I don't know what Tina's future will be, but we have instantly become fond of each other.  She is a dear girl, making the frustrations far more bearable.

Now it's the end of the day, 5:00.  The workers left, except one guy who'll hang out with me until 8, in case some customers notice us on their way to the German restaurant upstairs.

Tina left without starting any breads for tomorrow.  In all fairness, she asked me for tomorrow's 'menu', but I didn't know what to tell her  What's the point of baking when no one comes to buy?

So I'll have to get off my duff here, no rest for the wicked, and start thinking about tomorrow.

Conclusion to a long tale

Briefly put, my investment money was returned to me.

I sat in their offices for about an hour, as they tried to transfer the money into my account.  And this was the source of all their problems.

The way my name was entered into the bank account was a bit odd.  It seems that the bank ran all the letters together, without a space.  Each time the coffee company accountant tried to deposit money into my account, it bounced. She or he did not follow up, until I called them in May last year, and again in July, to get my interest payments.  It took them some days each time to get my money deposited.  Yet no one did any follow up, no one made a notation for the next time.

So the basic problem begins and ends with incompetence.  That is what Mr. Yang said at the dinner; it's a management problem.

I'm not saying that this kind of incompetence can't happen in America, but here it is commonplace.

Anyway, I am happy that now I can pay off all my creditors.  This has been slowed down by the simple fact that I came down with a bug, possibly the flu, Friday and have been fairly immobile since.  A happy ending is a happy ending; all goodness.

homestyle decorating

The walls look so plain.  I've had it in my mind to invite an artist, or at least an art student, to come and paint the walls with some wheat and bread themes.  This has come to pass.  One young man stepped forward, and started painting a few shafts of wheat, copying a picture he found on the internet.  On another wall he planned to paint some loaves of  bread.

Yesterday, while waiting for the sous chef and assistant to arrive, there were about five young people gathered around the wall. They were a few Web students, but also I saw Tina sitting on the high bench table with a paintbrush in hand. The young painter gave a couple of them paint brushes, and instructed them on how to fill in his penciled sketch.  The results are pretty much what I'd hoped for.  Grandma's grandkids painting on the wall.  I'll add photos soon.

guanxi

That's pronounced gwan shee.  It roughly translates 'relationship' but means much more.  It is a record of favors done.  In this culture, the record must always remain balanced, between individuals.  It can create an ever widening circle of influence.  For example.

My vet came to see my shop.  When I had the last cat spayed, last year, he said he wanted to hang out with me some to learn English.  We never followed up on that.  Then one day, out of the blue about a month ago, he calls me.  He is speaking Chinese, and it takes a while before I figure out who it is.  He identifies himself as the 'wuyi', which sounds an awful lot like 'wuye'.  The latter is the name of the management office that manages properties, like my apartment complex, and the shopping mall where my bakery is. When I buy things online, I get a call from my apartment's wuye office and they tell me about it.  My Chinese isn't that good, so I have to listen very carefully for key words and then guess the rest.

And of course, the wuye office at the mall has been actively engaged in my setting up the shop, involved in many aspects.

Wuyi, on the other hand, is shorthand for animal 'dongwu' doctor 'yisheng'.  His name is easy enough to remember, Dr. White, but I didn't hear him say it during this call.  Anyway, eventually I understood who was calling, though never did catch if he was just saying hi or proposing a get together.

I had picked up some phrase books for him, at Web, and they are collecting dust.  So I texted him a couple weeks ago, saying we should get together and practice English.  That's when he called, and said he'd come to the shop the next day.

He came Tuesday, with a friend in tow whose English was considerably better.  In the end, though, he spoke more to Tina, who tried to translate.  Tina did well in her college English classes, but her spoken English is a mix of adorable and frustrating.

He said he had a friend who worked in the kitchen of the famous Shangri-la restaurant, in the international Fudu Trader's Hotel in Xin Bei, which is the north end of Changzhou, about an hour by bus from me.  That guy spoke a little English.  Dr. White called him and let me speak to him. He said he would be happy to help me out.  Perhaps he could give me some tips, some instructions.  He apologized that policy prohibited him from inviting me into the Shangri-la kitchen, but he could send his staff down to my kitchen.

Dr. White came by again the next day, Wednesday. This was the day I was doing a lot of baking in order to bring samples up to Jolly's restaurant, who has been waiting for them.  I had brought a change of clothes to work with me, figuring to go right after work.

Dr. White wanted a favor.  There is a hand held instant blood analyzer that he dearly wants for his clinic.  But the cost in China is very high.  He believes that in the States it's much cheaper.  He wants me to buy one for him and have someone carry it over here in their suitcase.

Oh sure. Snap my fingers and find an American who has a vet in their pocket, who is coming here in the next couple of months, and has room in their suitcase, and who owes me a favor.

To make a long story short, he offered to drive me to Xin Bei and wait while I delivered my samples.  I knew Johnny wasn't going to be at his restaurant, as he had a last minute engagement taking him away.  I didn't think I'd tarry long there.

On the way, Dr. White stopped at the Fudu hotel, and I met his friend and the friend's assistant.  The friend had his name tag on, identifying himself as a sous chef.  While we stood in the coffee lounge, the old German head chef came in scrounging up a cup of coffee for himself at the wait station.  He is a tall, portly man, gray haired.  His English is heavily accented, but his Chinese sounded pretty good.  He seemed to be a jolly humorous fellow.  I don't recall that I was actually introduced to him.  Chinese cultural protocol would have this man on a pedestal, not disdaining to speak with his help outside the kitchen. A demigod.

We arranged that on July 25 the sous chef would come down to my bakery and help answer some questions, and teach me some stuff.

Then, after delivering the bread at the next stop, Dr. White pulled up to a vet clinic.  We all trudged inside, where he showed me the instrument he covets.

As we crossed the busy Nan Da Jie, the old Changzhou downtown district, we made one more stop to pick up a street-food treat that his wife particularly likes.  Kind of like egg McMuffins; vendors have a special griddle with six cup indentations.  They pour in the batter, then a piece of meat, then an egg, topped with more batter.  They turn them over half way through the cooking, and serve them piping hot.

So there it was.  He had given me a cheap price on two spays, in hopes of learning English or at least making an American friend.  Many months later, he collects on it.  He wants a blood analyzer.  In exchange, he gets me professional help for my bakery.

I've written my friend, Lori, who is spending the summer at home in Iowa.  When she worked at a high school here, she would come visit me of an evening, to get her cat fix.  She doesn't have a cat, I have two.  So we'd sit and watch a movie, or just drink wine and chat, while each of us cuddled with a cat on the lap.  I wrote her asking if she was on good terms with her vet there, and if she could ask him about pricing and ordering this analyzer.  She said she could do that.  She still doesn't have a job for September, so we don't know if she's coming back to China or will stay in the States.

I got a text message from him last night, asking me how it was going.  I told him I was working on it, I'd have news in a couple of days.  Then he asked about my visa situation.  I told him, no solution.  He wrote back, I may have solutions.  Now, this perks my curiosity.  I'll have to try calling him back when next I am with Tina, so she can translate for us and find out what he might have in mind.

I have cultured a sour dough starter.  I am not using the same technique that got me good results back in 2004, but rather the instructions by Peter Reinhart.  It grew quickly, in just four days.  Yesterday I should have done something with it, it was ready to either be stored or made into a barm.  Instead I left it neglected on the shelf, while we entertained our expert visitors and learned how to shape pretzels, and a tall boule.  Today I don't want to waste any more dough baking, so Tina and I are going to Metro to try to find some supplies that our new friends say we can buy there, rather than needing to do online shopping.  I have given myself the morning off, to stay home and try to catch up with my laundry and other tasks.  But I must go in at some point and do something with this sourdough culture before I lose it.

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.