Chicken dance
"Isn't this....Chicken Street?" she asked me with a tinge of horror in her voice. I was explaining to Amy's driver where to drop us off after shopping. Myles and I wereplanning to take a cab, but our new friends we met last week at Starbucks that we ran into at Wal-Mart today insisted that we go back with them and their private driver. And it saved me RMB 15!
Amy, the speaker, is new to Shenzhen. She is Chinese and her husband is German. They have lived in various parts of China and Hong Kong and (for my VAC friends--get this!) near Hanau and just in the past two weeks they have settled in Shekou. Our sons are very close in age, and they immediately struck up a friendship at Starbucks last week. Playing trucks and running laps around latte drinkers are their common interests.
So we we bumped into Amy and Max at Wal-Mart, I was more than happy to accept her invitation to drive us home in their nice comfortable clean air-conditioned van (though Shenzhen taxis, being so much newer than those in Hong Kong, tend not to be nasty at all, really). Half in English, half in Chinese I directed the driver down Tai Zi Road to the turn around to leave us off in front of the building. That is when Amy asked what she did. What is so remarkable is that her family hasn't been here even two weeks, she isn't quite sure where the playground or the stores are, but she very much knows where Chicken Street is!
I tried to be casual, and joke that Chicken Street is actually behind our row of apartment buildings. I mean, our building is nice and secure. We have a doorman. There are two other families with small children on our floor, though most of the residents of this building I suspect are transitional. It feels more like living in a Korman Suites or Residence Inn, complete with funishings and daily housekeeping service as part of the package.
But Chicken Street is there. One night one of Randy's friends counted upwards of 50 "small bars" (as they are euphemistically called) within the three blocks surrounding this building. They have names like Paradise Bar, Manilabar, Babydolls, Angel Bar, and Red Cherry C. Some are not much larger than handicapped bathroom stall. In most of the "small bars" a flock of pretty young girls work, trying to entice foreign men inside to buy drinks. In the most innocent situations, the girls might draw a salary but definitely receive a commission based upon the drinks that are bought for them that night. Sometimes the men are tricked into buying drinks for the whole house (not unique to here--how many people do each of us know that this has happened to--and VAC friends let's not mention names, 'kay?) In most Chicken Bars, though, you can drop very little money and get things done to you in the bathroom, or get one up to your apartment or hotel room for a little more money than that.
Some of the chickens are downright aggressive. One night I could hear commotion through my living room window so I looked down. A man was trying to walk down the street to his hotel, and girls were piling on him. They were trying to drag him into their bar. I saw him start to break into a run and throw off the girls like he was Jerome Bettis. He was successful in escaping.
There are a few exceptions in the neighborhood. They are few and far between. There's our friend Fei Fei's bar on one corner and Mary's where Randy and his friends watched the Super Bowl on the opposite corner. Either place I feel comfortable being, as they are clean and Chicken-free. Some nights the girls that work for Fei Fei will see us walking home from eating dinner out and buy Myles ice cream for dessert. And Mary's has a porch, where Myles likes to sip his Coconut Juice and watch for Daddy's van in the afternoon, maybe play foosball with Coco or Tina, two of the bartenders. And there are a few others, like X-Ta-Sea where they have a pretty good Filipino cover band playing on weekends.
But other than that, behind this building, near two of the big hotels where foreign businessmen like to stay because it is convenient to the ferry terminal, is our famous Chicken Street.
Amy, the speaker, is new to Shenzhen. She is Chinese and her husband is German. They have lived in various parts of China and Hong Kong and (for my VAC friends--get this!) near Hanau and just in the past two weeks they have settled in Shekou. Our sons are very close in age, and they immediately struck up a friendship at Starbucks last week. Playing trucks and running laps around latte drinkers are their common interests.
So we we bumped into Amy and Max at Wal-Mart, I was more than happy to accept her invitation to drive us home in their nice comfortable clean air-conditioned van (though Shenzhen taxis, being so much newer than those in Hong Kong, tend not to be nasty at all, really). Half in English, half in Chinese I directed the driver down Tai Zi Road to the turn around to leave us off in front of the building. That is when Amy asked what she did. What is so remarkable is that her family hasn't been here even two weeks, she isn't quite sure where the playground or the stores are, but she very much knows where Chicken Street is!
I tried to be casual, and joke that Chicken Street is actually behind our row of apartment buildings. I mean, our building is nice and secure. We have a doorman. There are two other families with small children on our floor, though most of the residents of this building I suspect are transitional. It feels more like living in a Korman Suites or Residence Inn, complete with funishings and daily housekeeping service as part of the package.
But Chicken Street is there. One night one of Randy's friends counted upwards of 50 "small bars" (as they are euphemistically called) within the three blocks surrounding this building. They have names like Paradise Bar, Manilabar, Babydolls, Angel Bar, and Red Cherry C. Some are not much larger than handicapped bathroom stall. In most of the "small bars" a flock of pretty young girls work, trying to entice foreign men inside to buy drinks. In the most innocent situations, the girls might draw a salary but definitely receive a commission based upon the drinks that are bought for them that night. Sometimes the men are tricked into buying drinks for the whole house (not unique to here--how many people do each of us know that this has happened to--and VAC friends let's not mention names, 'kay?) In most Chicken Bars, though, you can drop very little money and get things done to you in the bathroom, or get one up to your apartment or hotel room for a little more money than that.
Some of the chickens are downright aggressive. One night I could hear commotion through my living room window so I looked down. A man was trying to walk down the street to his hotel, and girls were piling on him. They were trying to drag him into their bar. I saw him start to break into a run and throw off the girls like he was Jerome Bettis. He was successful in escaping.
There are a few exceptions in the neighborhood. They are few and far between. There's our friend Fei Fei's bar on one corner and Mary's where Randy and his friends watched the Super Bowl on the opposite corner. Either place I feel comfortable being, as they are clean and Chicken-free. Some nights the girls that work for Fei Fei will see us walking home from eating dinner out and buy Myles ice cream for dessert. And Mary's has a porch, where Myles likes to sip his Coconut Juice and watch for Daddy's van in the afternoon, maybe play foosball with Coco or Tina, two of the bartenders. And there are a few others, like X-Ta-Sea where they have a pretty good Filipino cover band playing on weekends.
But other than that, behind this building, near two of the big hotels where foreign businessmen like to stay because it is convenient to the ferry terminal, is our famous Chicken Street.
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