| Forbidden Starbucks |
|
|
|
| China | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Thursday, 01 February 2007 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Ah the sweet smell of anti-globalisation furore. As soon as I got whiff of a campaign to exile Starbucks from the Forbidden City like a eunuch fallen from grace, I slapped on my two leftie sandals and headed to the scene of the dispute. My mission was to jump headfirst onto the bandwagon. A couple of weeks ago, Rui Chenggang, a news presenter on CCTV 9 (China's only English-language television channel), single-handedly put the coffee chain's imperial branch in doubt by accusing it of 'trampling on Chinese culture' in an entry on his blog. You have to admire the guy's popularity. His blog received half a million clicks in the space of a few days and an eviction campaign was born. Media frenzy did the rest and soon a simple Google news search flagged up 211 articles on the subject from around the world. All this after Starbucks has been quietly churning out cappuccinos in the Palace Museum for nearly seven years. I purchased a Forbidden City ticket for the fourth time in my life and assured a predatory tour guide I was only interested in the foul influence Starbucks was having on Ming Dynasty ambience. The reply was passionate. 'But the Starbucks in the Forbidden City is an important way of showing that China is welcoming its foreign friends, particularly after our accession to the WTO.' Unfazed, I hurried towards the scaffold that currently hides the north gate. 'Corporate parasite bad, ancient culture good', I muttered to myself. It took me twenty minutes to find the establishment I had never noticed on three previous visits. In fact the only reason I found it was the sound of an Englishwoman saying to her husband. 'Well, I never thought I'd be drinking Starbucks in the Forbidden City.' The couple was sitting on a concrete step with a pair of paper cups bearing the unmistakable logo. Perfect prey. I sidled up and popped the question. She hurriedly wiped away her latte moustache and had a look of guilt I normally have when my dietitian girlfriend notices a trace of Big Mac gherkin on my collar. 'Well I suppose it is bad it's here. And I did pick up a Nescafe three-in-one for four yuan outside the gate,' she said. Five minutes later, she had changed tack. She said it was great to stop and have a coffee so she could prepare herself for a few more hours of architectural appreciation. 'Besides I didn't even realise it was a Starbucks until they charged me 88 yuan.' Good point. I still didn't know where the cursed coffee shop was and I was standing five metres away. The only indication of its presence is a bog-standard sign that includes arrows to the Hall of Supreme Harmony and a Coffee Bar. The cafe itself is tiny. It can be no more than eight square metres. The only Starbucks signs are the ones strung together with a line of fabric pigs hanging up near the window. The neighbouring building is adorned with a bright yellow sign, 'Palace Museum Shop'. I bought a latte for 28 yuan. The guides congregate every day around its deceptive walls. 'We think it's great. At the end of day, they sell us cakes for silly prices,' one said. 'Of course I think it's a good idea – it pays my wages!' said a member of staff. I decided to widen my search. I asked ten people. Not one had heard about a Starbucks in the Forbidden City. The four Chinese I spoke to thought it was a good idea. Five foreigners silenced me with a wave of apathy. One French guy said, 'I hate Starbucks' and walked off. After an hour and a half I reached my conclusion. I didn't care if it was there either. There is a demand for good coffee. It is as authentic as the ice-cream seller and even the tourist signs are 'made possible' by American Express. Anyway, Starbucks is laughing. The publicity has been enormous and now everyone is aware of its imperial residence. Chris O’Brien Having almost sated his penchant for a four-legged gamble, Chris traded London life as a horse racing journalist for Beijing life as a “Foreign expert”. The phrases “One-China policy” and “the creation of a harmonious society” have become etched in his vocabulary through working for the state-run Xinhua News Agency and he has quickly accepted that being 6ft 4in tall is not particularly normal in China.
Only registered users can write comments! |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
