14/01/2018
Beyond the average shopping experience
(Ode to the now demolished open- air market of the Red Dragon
…my feelings as they were at the time.)
The Red Dragon, where do I begin? A horn of plenty made of plastic; on the rapper you can barely read the fine print: “Keep away from children under 3. Warning small parts”. But why does this very image this very image pop into my head? I doubt that you'll find such an object here, it's just the cheeky smile of a manechin dressed in a pink sweatshirt that I was trying to answer to.
For some clarity lets pin point it on the map. It's on the north-eastern edge of Bucharest- once a communist industrial suburb, now a place of eclectic trade. What is it? A giant wholesale shopping complex, remote, enclosed and with Chinese insignia, naturally surrounded in urban myth due to its remoteness. But don't shy away, you are at the gates of modern eastern trade – a postmodern bazaar oozing quirkiness.
As any mythological inquiry should begin we start with the journey. A very long tram ride from the city center or a mix between the subway and a ride with the Dragons- the lovingly named free bus rides offered by the complex.
So you are here (like on the map).You feel flooded by goods, the feeling gets exponentially multiplied with every new shopping stand you see. You are now in a jungle of produce. No ads for a costumer guided experience, just produce itself.
If you take a step back you can easily realize that the manufacturers are mostly Arab or Chinese, the vendors a jolly mix including Romanians. So I tried to go with the flow. Stories of Chinese assembly lines are scrolling through my head. Here you are far from that, it seems like all the serialization has been already processed and comes back at you in a bizarre juxtaposition. I take out my camera and ravel in the décor.
As any new comer would, my eye is secretly scanning for the Chinese, they are very polite but refuse to be photographed. The structure of the complex feels like a maze due to many interconnecting corridors between the alleys of the open market. Those are the places I would often stop into regroup, maybe adjust my feelings after a joyride of postmodern collage.
I try to find a thread. I keep coming back to the Chinese, once I saw a Chinese family at the post office, the were mailing a large box back home, I'm not very sure of the content but at the end they added some ci******es. That gesture had an instant familiarity.
I come back to the décor, I'm hit by a wall of jumpsuits from space. A little bit dizzy I shake my head. Quirkiness aside, trying somehow to peer at the intrinsic fabric of the place, I look at the produce there - no vanity, I look at the people it's subsistence.
Maybe things are a little bit better here, but try some of our ci******es any way.