Tofu

Nestled in the shadow of crumbling buildings and construction fences, a woman with a slender silhouette is setting up her small tofu stall. After twenty years of selling tofu, she had become a fixture in the evolving neighborhood. The sounds of machinery echoed around her, a constant reminder of the changes sweeping through the city. I approached her for an interview, intrigued by her resilience in the wet market’s challenging environment.

“Selling tofu has been my life,” Li said, her voice  steady but tinged with weariness. She wiped her hands on her apron, her expression reflected a mixture of pride and resignation. “Twenty years I’ve been selling tofu here,” she said, her hands working with practiced ease as she arranged the blocks of fresh tofu. “But it hasn’t been easy, the economic situation at the market has significantly declined.” Her voice was steady, but there was a weariness in her eyes that spoke volumes.

The Tofu Stall and the shop owner

She moved to Shanghai from a small town, seeking better opportunities for herself and her family. “I thought the city would be full of promises,” she contemplates. “But all I see now is construction and destruction. People are leaving, business is slow, and the competition is tough. Some days, I barely sell enough to make ends mee,” she explained, glancing at the market where only a few customers lingered. Across the market, people rush pass on the street, focusing on their own problems, barely looking up.

When I asked her about jubilant memories in her work, she halted. “Honestly, there haven’t been many. I work long hours, so the joy seems to have faded. I haven’t traveled much, and I don’t have stories of adventures or fun experiences. My life has revolved around this stall,” she admitted, her shoulders heavy with the weight of responsibility. “I wake up early everyday, prepare the tofu, and spend my days repeatedly hoping my business would grow.”

Despite the challenges, Li’s resilience shone through. “Life pushes me to work. I have to earn money to survive. There are bills to pay, and I have family to support,” she said, determination was carved  into her features. “I constantly told myself to overcome these hardships, because I can’t give up. This is what I have been selling for 20 years, and life pushes me to keep going.”

The rapid expansion of skyscrapers and modern infrastructure has transformed the cityscape. Many traditional neighborhoods have been replaced by new developments, altering the character of the areas she once knew. I asked her whether her stall has benefited from the latest platforms for people to buy ingredients online, she said, “We tried to use these online platforms before, but the outcome still didn’t reach our expectations. The younger generations gravitate towards fast food and convenience items, often overlooking traditional foods.”

In that moment, it was clear that Auntie Lin’s journey was marked by perseverance and dedication. Though her experiences had not been filled with joy, her commitment to her craft and her quiet hope for a brighter future shone through, making her a steadfast presence in the vibrant tapestry of Shanghai’s market life.

Li quietly persevered through the hardships that life had dealt her, nurturing her little corner in this city marked by relentless change and uncertainty. Tofu selling is simple, repetitive, yet profound. In these little blocks of tofu, a source of sustenance is created, and the unyeilding human spirit of endurance shines through.