“But these are boutique eggs,” my dad deadpanned. “Highway robbery!” cried one uncle, while an aunt stressed the price was more than four times what she would normally pay for the same amount of food in the market. When I broke the good news in the online family group chat, however, uncles and aunts – all facing their own food shortage to various degrees – jumped in to express their shock that I willingly paid 398 yuan ($62) for five kilograms of vegetables and 60 eggs. Elated to find out she was right, I immediately ordered for my father. On Day 2 of my futile attempts, a friend tipped me off about a “boutique” online retailer that was still offering a grocery package with next-day delivery slots. The retailer’s app simply crashed each night – and would only come back online a few hours later with a glaring “no more delivery slots for the day” message.Īs frustration and anxiety built up, my hope dwindled along with my father’s supply. daily, even with food still available on the virtual shelves. I set out to help but never had I thought online grocery shopping would be such an emotional rollercoaster.Īrmed with a membership for a retail warehouse club – presumably allowing me to face less stiff competition than those using a general online grocer – I quickly realized it was impossible to grab one of the coveted delivery slots, which are assigned at 9 p.m. Workers in hazmat suits keep watch on a street during Shanghai's lockdown on April 16. The elderly crowd had mostly failed to secure supplies through online bulk-purchases, practically the only way to buy anything in Shanghai at the moment, due to their relatively small demand and lack of tech-savviness. Now, with lockdown measures turning increasingly draconian, a once almost-unthinkable topic has struck a chord with residents in the city and beyond, more so than anything else: people going hungry in Shanghai in 2022.īy the authorities’ own acknowledgment, the food shortage has been a largely man-made disaster owing to a lack of planning and coordination.ĭespite official pledges, government handouts have been unreliable in many parts of the city, including my father’s apartment complex in northeastern Shanghai filled with retirees like him. It was a startling revelation on the grim reality in China’s biggest city and financial hub – from a member of the generation that lived through the Great Famine and the tumultuous Cultural Revolution that killed millions during the first few decades of the People’s Republic, founded in 1949 by Communist revolutionary Mao Zedong.Įven during the darkest days in Mao’s China, my parents – Shanghai-born and bred – used to remind me that, unlike many in the countryside, they were fortunate enough not to fear the prospect of starvation. Then, as if anticipating my inevitable worry, he added: “Still have some rice and crackers – and plenty of coffee.” “Will be running out in a few days if no government handout soon,” he messaged me Thursday. When my 73-year-old father raised concern about his shrinking food supply late last week, the catastrophe brought by Shanghai’s citywide Covid lockdown suddenly hit home.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |