I’ve just come back from the supermarket. Always an interesting experience.
Having climbed over piles of destruction construction debris from the open cast mining roadworks outside Jia Yong No. 1 Supermarket, I then have to negotiate the much more difficult entry to the store.
For some unfathomable reason, they have posted guards at the door to catch anyone rash enough to try to enter their store carrying a plastic bag from any other store. These have to be deposited in a left luggage office by the entrance. Any other kind of bag is OK. I regularly carry my large empty shoplifting bag marked ‘SWAG!’ in the appropriate Chinese characters. They ignore this but confiscate my tiny and already overfull plastic bag from the local DVD store.
Having overcome this hurdle, I have to make my way to the back of the store where they hide the things I really want to buy. Like supermarkets the world over, they have learned to put the over-priced dross that no one really wants right by the entrance. The only difference I can see is that, whereas UK supermarkets invariably have the veggies at the entrance to give the unsuspecting customer a sense of freshness, Jia Yong stick them at the back. Maybe they are telling me something.
I then have to struggle through the crowds to reach my target. It becomes immediately clear that the crowds blocking every aisle are not actually buying anything, but are generally standing around looking completely vacant. On closer inspection, it emerges they are all dressed identically. No! Not in Chairman Mao suits, but in the company livery. These are the staff! They are apparently employed to block up the aisles, slowing the customers down so that they spend more time gazing at the over-priced dross.
Resolutely, I battle on and eventually reach the back. Here is the fresh food. Well, fairly fresh. Nowhere near as fresh as in the local market, but conveniently much more expensive. Here I find my fish, meat, fruit and veggies. The fish area is short but to the point. Under great piles of ice (renewed frequently by blue-nosed staff), lie what look suspiciously like overgrown samples from my mother’s tropical fish tank back home. To actually see what they have, you have to dig through the ice with your bare hands, hoping that the polar bears are hibernating.
Then, on to the meat counter. This is in two sections. In one, you find film wrapped plastic trays containing the ingredients for some particular dish or other. It is impossible to see what is under the thinly spread layer of the most expensive ingredient lying on the top. More than once, when not paying attention, I’ve arrived home to discover that I’ve just bought 2 oz of beef and several pounds of shredded carrot – all at prime beef price.
The other section has the raw materials. You make your selection, bung it in a bowl and hand it to someone to weigh and price. At least you would if the person was there! Due to staff shortages (they’re all busy on aisle blocking duty) there is usually a ratio of one server to 100 customers. However, no-one seems to mind and they all amuse themselves by arguing as to who saw that bit of pork first!
Then, on to the fruit and veggie section. Again this is self-service. Grab your goodies and stick them in a plastic bag. What plastic bag? The ones on that roll. That empty roll? Oh.
Then get them weighed and priced! Been here before, haven’t we? Typically, the store has devised a policy to prevent wear and tear on the staff.
Rule 1. Allocate staff to the weigh stations in inverse proportion to the number of customers waiting.
Rule 2. Fruit weighing staff must never weigh vegetables and vice versa.
Rule 3. As there is no queueing system anyway, serve people in order of their attractiveness, unless they are family members or friends when you should give them priority.
Rule 4. If your boyfriend or a more than usually interesting colleague is anywhere near ignore all customers and chat for a while
What I haven’t mentioned is that 99% of the commodities on sale are totally unrecognisable to the average foreigner. Which brings me to the deli counter. I tend to avoid this. I am not in the least sensitive and regularly horrify other foreigners by my willingness (and sometimes enthusiasm) to eat pretty much everything. But having once bought a kilo of ducks’ tongues by mistake, I know my shopping skills are not quite there yet.
They do occasionally have some surprising western goods. These we bulk buy as if we are expecting World War 3 tomorrow. However, we have found over the years that this tactic tends to backfire. Every time they introduce a new range and we buy it ‘like hotcakes’, they never stock it again!
“We’re not getting that in again. People only go and buy it! Messes up our shelving arrangements!”
Either that or they price it at ridiculously high levels to deter prospective buyers. Recently they introduced those cheesy spread triangles and pseudo Kraft Cheese Slices. As far as I can see, they haven’t sold any. The little box of cheese triangles costs more than I could take my entire extended family to dinner for and we can get real Kraft slices for half the price round the corner! Not that I do. I prefer cheese.
Anyway, having stocked up on what I can find that satisfies my simple needs, I head for the checkouts. Cunningly, I have learned not to go to the shortest line, but to actually look to see if the people in front of me look as if they might have friends. It is quite common to queue up behind someone who only has a couple of items, then at the last minute their friend turns up with three full baskets and two trolleys and goes straight to the front of the line to join their companion. This is perfectly acceptable behaviour. I also have to be wary of the occasional person who hasn’t quite worked out the supermarket concept and tries to haggle over the price.
I recently got stuck behind an old man who was refusing to pay ¥1.20 for a tube of toothpaste, instead sticking out for ¥1.00 (Note ¥0.20 is about 3 cents US, but perhaps significant to him.)
The checkouts are usually manned by two people. One to scan your goods and one to bag them. The bagger never starts bagging until everything is scanned. In times of staff shortages (yes, aisle blocking duty) the scanner also bags. Well, I hear you say, you can bag yourself. Sorry, it is absolutely forbidden to give the customer any bags until everything is scanned and paid for. Then they guestimate and provide the smallest possible bag to carry all your purchases.
Finally, they have sorted it all out and you hand over your cash. Then you wait for a while as the checkout person runs around the store asking everyone else if they have any change!
Exhausted, you stagger to the exit, where, just for your amusement, they demand to see and stamp your till receipt which of course you have lost!
You swear never to return. But you do.
