Some groups are sitting on the street， others take their carts. If someone needs them， they immediately jump and drive off. All of them are not so much competitors as they are partners， and it is always better for them to have the ear to the ground. Some transportation or relocation orders can be dealt with by two or three only， anyway.
LaoLao (姥姥， “Grandma”)， as she is affectionately called not only within the family but also at work and on the street， is now 80 years old. Her husband has been dead for
This chicken seems to be suitable for sale.
a while already. She was born to the old ShenZhen， spent her life as a fisherman’s wife， first for decades on the various boats that she and her husband were driving over time， then at the sale of fish and seafood which her two sons brought ashore. Together with other fishermen’s wives and fishermen she sold at the coast of SheKou where with the growth of ShenZhen increasingly affluent people gathered to get the very freshest (and very cheapest) goods， day in， day out， seven days a week each.
In recent years， this has become more arduous on the sand， often in the rain， so she moved to the market in SheKou， which is covered， and where in addition to fish and seafood of all types every other kind of food is offered that the customer may need and want to buy fresh – meat， vegetables， fruits， spices， live chickens， frogs， turtles， oysters which are grown under wooden rafts in the bay between SheKou and HongKong.
Her two sons are daily out with their small boats at sea， unless a typhoon is approaching. They are satisfied to work individually， not as hired fishermen on those big ships that are moored in the fishing port of SheKou at the quayside， these huge ships on which some eight or ten men are working！ No， they do not make themselves dependent. Sure， they have never been able to make any great leaps forward， and sometimes when the fish did not want to be caught or when the customer did not want to be caught， either， resources got scarce， but they never gave up.
Two years ago it had been very bad when that typhoon hit HongKong and then raged across ShenZhen. All boats were securely moored in the fishing port， and the eye of the typhoon moved just across them. There was an eerie silence for more than half an hour. But before and after the passage of the eye， it was a huge storm， even in the port the waves beat metres high， several small boats drowned， including one of the boats of her sons. It took days before they had pulled it out of the mud again. Each of her two sons has a daughter， one being more handsome than the other. The one
– she always calls her “my XiaoMei” (小美)， my Little Beauty – helps her on the market. Grandma LaoLao is always proud of how the men look at her granddaughter， yes， she really is beautiful. And LaoLao has
lures customers and takes care that everything is paid.
nothing against the fact that some customers are now apparently buying from her as well or only because of her granddaughter. The other sells the daily catch on the small fish market at the beach， and she is very pretty， too， she is called “XiangMei” (香美)， you may translate that as the Fragrant Beauty. Whether this stuck from the smell of fish that is sticking to the whole family (and is not a bad thing by itself)， or from the fact that after a shower she might smell so pleasantly， Grandma LaoLao does not want to comment on that， because after shower not many people have yet been able to examine her second granddaughter with respect to her odour， that she will surely hope.
Actually， Grandma LaoLao had hoped a bit that her grandchildren would turn to a different career. But as very young girls when they were fifteen years old and then slightly older， they have only hung around with the boys in SheKou， the manners were turning ever stranger， like that it did not use to be. Sometimes they were even for a short time with foreign boys or later even with adult and older foreign men！ That was really impossible， who knows what happened！ But now they are both just over thirty， both are married decently， and because they have learned nothing else they are also fishermen’s wives and sell seafood. But Grandma LaoLao is now also a little proud of that， and she does not know what she should be more happy about： what is now or how it might have been if her grandchildren had learned better and taken other jobs， perhaps in a clean supermarket or in a bank？
Good thing she has always admonished her granddaughters. Even today， she does it every now and again， “for safety， you never know，” and she reminds them of the inglorious times. The grandchildren will groan in unison： “LaoLao， that was last century！ We were little girls then！”， and they are not completely wrong about that， and Grandma LaoLao responds： “You’re still little girls！”， about which granny is objectively wrong！
Ever again she is happy that her sons are not as crazy as many men in their environment. Everyone wanted to have only sons， but her sons were also satisfied as they each got a daughter， and so in quick succession. Both love their daughters. And
Juice is pressed from this liquorice， it is tasty and supposedly helps in any possible health issue.
if you look closely， being a woman has always been the better option in life， Grandma LaoLao silently muses， and particularly now in modern China where there are fewer and fewer women.
The few young girls are being courted even more than she was back then， how wonderful that ought to be！ But what about the millions of guys who cannot find wives？ Grandma LaoLao is not someone who constantly thinks about politics， if she is honest， she does so almost never. Much less she thinks about population policy. But when she hears that there will soon be not only millions but tens of millions of young men in China who cannot find wives because there are simply too few women， she is turning thoughtful and even more pleased that she is having two such beautiful granddaughters.