'To obtain a deeper understanding of a new culture, one needs to do what the locals do, see what the locals see, and buy what the locals buy." That's what our marketing lecturer taught us some 30 years ago. In my years of travel, I've fervently applied that brand of philosophy to reap greater insights and gain richer experiences beyond the guidebooks. I've since added "eat what the locals eat" to the list and never looked back.

It became quickly apparent that a great number of major malls in Beijing are Singapore-owned. I lived in Singapore for five years, and have seen every possible variation and incarnation of a shopping mall. Would I want to see more malls in Beijing? Not really.

It was a chance discovery that I heard from a colleague about "an obscure village Sunday market up north." We were actually searching for where the traders from the Beijing Zoo Wholesale Market had migrated to.

Remembering my euphoric experience at the Taidong Night Market in Qingdao, east China's Shandong Province, I woke up extra-early that Sunday. Google Translate and GPS in hand, I set off on my day of discovery at the Dougezhuang Village Sunday market. While the market resides on the peripheries of Beijing and does take considerable time to reach, it is more than worth the journey to discover a slice of real China in the outskirts of the bustling capital.

Alighting from the bus, I immediately bolted up the adjacent pedestrian bridge to the sight of a sea of village traders which immediately made me giddy with excitement. Formed in haphazard rows, under trees, beside collapsed walls, alongside parked vans, skirting muddy puddles, the traders pitched their stalls wherever space would afford it. This was exactly the picture I had in my mind's eye when I made that decision to come to China. It definitely wasn't to see the shiny malls, nor the fancy steel and concrete office vistas.

The array of food was outstanding. The bread section alone was beyond remarkable and came in an array of sorts ranging from steamed to fried, with and without fillings of meat, vegetables, fruits and seeds of both the sweet and savory types.

Add to that, the vast selection of meat and fish dishes cooked in every way one can imagine and you'll find yourself in culinary heaven. Did I mention it was all mouth-wateringly delicious and incredibly cheap and significantly less expensive than Beijing proper? Only recently did I learn that donkey burgers were literally made from donkey meat. Who could have known? After all, the famous "Buddha jumps over the wall (fotiaoqiang)" dish is by no means prepared by wall-jumping Buddhas, nor do hot dogs contain any dog meat.

Price is definitely one of the reasons to shop here as items sold are unbelievably cheap when compared to Beijing proper. Everything from "five gold stall" items (household hardware), second-hand clothing, leather jackets, antiques, furniture, vegetables, plants, sewing machines, walking sticks, electronics and pets. Yes, I do mean those of the canine and feline species. No exotic pets from the reptilian, amphibian and gecko species though.

Where else in Beijing can you buy your vegetables from rows and rows of stalls under trees and bumping shoulders with the old and the young alike? Encountering those who insist on cycling through the cacophony and masses of Sunday shoppers is also quite the experience.

Another interesting and quirky thing about this place is that they seem to have a closing shop contest commencing at 2:30 p.m. It's not as if there are carnivorous creatures out to devour the traders at 2:45 p.m. or something. At 2:29 p.m., all is normal, and everyone is shouting at the top of their voices, bargaining with the punters to rid themselves of the remnants of this week's produce. By 3:00 p.m. the place is left empty with not a soul in sight and all that is left of the thrilling Sunday market is a full belly, a packed shopping bag and plenty of happy memories.

The author is a Malaysian living in Beijing

Copyedited by Craig Crowther

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