Experience Authentic China… in Toronto
Hello everyone,
We frequently live in cities and fail to take advantage of our proximity to its treasures and unique characteristics. I have tried to do the opposite. While in New York City, I combed the boroughs on my bike. In Shanghai, I accepted every invitation to visit a different part of this great metropolis and wandered for hours each weekend through the many busy streets. However, I am now back in my native Toronto and find myself sticking to habitual behaviours, only visiting the neighbourhoods where my friends gather. Granted I am covering most of what the city has to offer simply because I have friends in different social circles. However, I haven’t bothered to look elsewhere. Thanks to my stay in Asia, I was curious about the Chinese community to the north of Toronto called Richmond Hill. More specifically, I wanted to visit the Pacific Mall - an authentic Chinese/ Hong Kong style mall. I discovered a hidden gem.
The Chinese that live in foreign countries tend to create communities that strongly mimic the lifestyle services and environment infrastructure of their native home. Some China Towns are known the world over, such as the one in San Francisco or New York City. Visiting these districts makes you feel that you are in a completely different place. The street signs are different, the noise is constant, that smell is intense, and the roads are cluttered. Above all, the shopping is fantastic and generally very cheap. Well, that is if you can bargain! Generally, the shops are found along streets. However, the Toronto winter is long and cold and therefor not really conducive to outdoor window shopping. Therefore, the Chinese community imported their style of shopping mall: a multi-level warehouse-type building with isle after isle of tightly sandwiched vendor booths. I have seen this type of mall in Hong Kong and Shanghai. In those cities, their tight-packed construction is due to the simple fact that there is little space to build. As such, merchants need to be more efficient with real estate. Toronto clearly does not have this issue but the Chinese community has built this type of building, I suppose our of habit and comfort.
The first time that I entered the mall, I felt transported back to Asia. Beyond the fact that you will find it difficult to spot a Caucasian, the energy felt the same. The loud chatter of Cantonese (and occasionally Mandarin) filled the air as did the smell of oily delights. People walk slowly from booth to booth, frequenlty forgetting the personal space of others. The shop-keepers tried hard to hard sell you on the cheapest of goods. Above all, the variety was mind-blowing. I was in heaven.
The shopping experience, in my opinion, is far superior to that of your typical North American mall. Why? Quite simply, you are constantly visually stimulated since the product variety truly changes meter to meter. There is not time to get bored. Even the most appealing “gwai lo” (Cantonese slang for white person) malls do not have the allure of a shoe-box layout where entrepreneurialism reigns and one-off gems are the norm rather than the exception. Yes, fashion is abundant (granted more so for women than men), but so are electronics, accessories, fragrances, home furnishings, knick-knacks, software programs, and films. I frequently lose my girlfriend in this place because she gets pulled from one store to the next. The sheer volume of bags, shoes, clothes, and accessories will make a targeted trip turn into a multi-hour adventure. However, I don’t really care because I can explore the specialty shops that I love.
One of the great discoveries in the Pacific Mall is the movie selection. While living in Asia, I became enamoured by the variety of films that were available at a few dollars a piece. Yes they were pirated. However, the huge selection and range of genres and global works allowed me to become a true film fanatic. I was able, and therefore encouraged, to be more adventurous with my viewing habits. Towards the end of my stay in Shanghai, I became so knowledgeable that I started seeking films by their production company. While this type of selection does not exist in the Pacific Mall, there are elements of this abundance. More importantly, I can explore movies with greater ease and enjoyment than at a rental place. Given that the Toronto winter naturally created a cocooning culture, the ability to have a place where you can purchase content that excessively nourishes this culture is brilliant.
A vigorous shopping session can be exhausting. Add the fact that you are rummaging through piles of product which is tightly packed together and you can understand that fatigue will naturally kick-in. Luckily there are stall after stall of noodle shops. If you are feeling classier, there is a large dim-sum restaurant. As with the shopping, the prices are fantastic. No bargaining here (at least I don’t think so!). From what I’ve noticed, the vendors all speak Cantonese and many of the booth names reflect Hong Kong origin. However, there are a few places that have dumplings from Mainland China. They taste the same as those tiny hole-in-the-wall places that I adored in Shanghai. Add some vinegar and chilli sauce and you are in for a real treat.
With the last dumpling eaten, your tongue caresses your lips for those last beads of noodle goodness. The noise of all the patrons to either side of you is acute but consistent. A hefty dose of chilli sauce has put you in a daze. You find yourself sitting back and appreciating the experience that you have just enjoyed over the past few hours. As you gaze on your table, you see an empty plate, a bag filled with films and other pleasures for your home. Under the table may lye a few bags with clothes and such. For a brief moment, you panic. “Why did I just spend so much money!” You quickly relax when you notice your wallet still occupied with the occasional cash bill. Then, with a content disposition you slowly walk to the door, bundle up to face the cold, and walk to your car. A wonderful day at the Pacific Mall is done. As you pull out of the parking lot, your mind begins to think, “I forgot to pick up that new George Clooney film. I guess I’ll be back again next week.” A smile curls gently on your face. You’re hooked.
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