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I recently took up living room rowing (not a metaphor) in an attempt to get healthy, following a seemingly endless stream of illnesses that devoured my spare pounds faster than installments on a student loan.
However, little did I know I could achieve the same goal and much, much more with a miracle of Chinese origin, a veritable super drug if you will, and a legal one at that. Traditional Chinese medicine has proved to me once again it holds the keys to the universe in a story about something called Cordyceps sinensis, or caterpillar fungus.
Purportedly, the miracle medicine not only treats fatigue, but also can also fight cancer and - here comes the seal on the deal - will boost sex drive. Now, I don't think this is something I necessarily need, but just like I am quite content driving my Volvo (estate), there's no harm in taking a Ferrari out of the garage now and then.
At least that was until the recent earthquake. It turns out that this rare and expensive phenomenon - the product of a parasitic relationship between moth larvae and fungus - is found in only three places in China, all at high altitude. The area with the most bountiful supply is Qinghai, the scene of the sad earthquake.
What this means is that come harvest time, sometime later this year, these crops will remain unclipped because the harvesters cannot reach the fields, and most will have their hands full rebuilding homes and communities.
I was saddened by the quake, like the rest of people in China and around the world, but I considered it even crueler to learn that a unique regional product - one considered a financial salve for many local farmers - will lay untapped. This is no one person's fault, but the curse of nature.
Lucky for us, this tectonic curse hasn't hit Beijing in a while, but other problems are definitely shaking my foundations.
To say Beijing has gained a reputation for exorbitant prices is a bit of an understatement, with the prices of branded consumer products bizarrely equivalent to those in developed countries and the housing market literally breaking the scales of reason.
Every month I struggle to save, despite doing reasonably well salary-wise, remaining a long way from being able to buy a property, a car, or any of those other status symbols so eagerly sought after. You would think I could at least afford a parasitic relationship between moth larvae and fungus. I mean, those things should be everywhere.
Of course, you would be wrong. It turns out this 'vege-burger' version of Viagra will increase in market value in Beijing by 10 percent to more than 200,000 yuan per kg, standing erect as yet another monumental obelisk of wealth, with the words "you can't buy me" carved into its marble side.
Now I may I agree with the first two main verses of John Lennon's "Imagine", but I draw the line at consumerism. In my eyes, the world is correct to use money in the way it does, because it promotes hard work and gives everyone a chance in life. However, this concept only works when the genuine value of a product is proportional to our earnings, or at most, slightly out of reach.
Which is no longer the case in Beijing. Here the money system has failed miserably because I can work like a madman and still not earn enough to get by. The world has become a twisted place when someone can contribute all their waking hours to develop a city, but can't afford a home there.
And that's my point. Having money in Beijing is not only looked upon as the key to happiness, love and a lifetime of "pleasure", it actually is. I look forward to packing my bags and returning to a country where homes are affordable, I am not judged on my savings, and I will never hopefully need a wonder drug. I'm sorry, Beijing, money just doesn't mean that much to me.