Chinese-made motorcycles have made getting fresh produce to markets in towns a lot easier. (Thomas Fuller/International Herald Tribune) Wednesday, December 26, 2007
By Thomas Fuller
International Herald Tribune (Paris, France)
LONG LAO GAO, Laos: The pineapple that grows here on the steep hills above the Mekong River is especially sweet, the red and orange chilies unusually spicy, and the spring onions and watercress retain the freshness of the mountain dew.
For years, getting this prized produce to market meant carrying a giant basket on a back-breaking, daylong trek down narrow mountain trails that cut through the jungle. That is now changing, thanks in large part to China.
Villagers ride their cheap Chinese motorcycles, which sell for as little as $440, down a badly rutted dirt road to the markets of Luang Prabang, the charming city of Buddhist temples along the Mekong that draws flocks of foreign tourists. The trip takes just one and half hours.
"No one had a motorcycle before," said Khamphao Janphasid, 43, a teacher in the local school whose extended family now has three of them. "The only motorcycles that used to be available were Japanese and poor people couldn't afford them."
Cheap Chinese products are flooding China's southern neighbors, and consumers in Myanmar, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia are laying out the welcome mat.
The products are transforming the lives of some of the poorest people in Asia, whose worldly possessions only a few years ago typically consisted of not much more than a set or two of clothes, cooking utensils and a thatch-roofed house built by hand.
The concerns in the West about the safety of Chinese toys and pet food are largely moot for the people living in the remote villages here, although some residents complain about quality. As the first introduction to global capitalism, Chinese products are met with deep appreciation. "Life is better because prices are cheaper," Khamphao said.
Chinese television sets and satellite dishes connect villagers to the world, stereos fill their houses with music, and the Chinese motor scooters often serve as transport for entire families.
The motor scooters, which typically have small but adequate 110cc engines, literally save lives, says Saidoa Wu, the 43-year-old village headman of Long Lao Mai, a village nestled in a valley at the end of the dirt road, adjacent to Long Lao Gao. "Now when we have a sick person we can get to the hospital in time," Wu said.
The improvised bamboo stretchers that villagers here used as recently as a decade ago to carry gravely ill family members and neighbors down the mountain on foot are history. In a village of 150 families, Wu counts a total of 44 Chinese motorcycles, up from zero five years ago.
Chinese motorbikes fill the streets of Hanoi, Vientiane, Mandalay and other major cities in Indochina. Thirty-nine percent of the two million motorcycles sold annually in Vietnam are Chinese brands, according to Honda, which has a 34 percent market share.
Chinese exports to Vietnam, Myanmar and Laos amounted to $8.3 billion in the first eight months of the year, an increase of about 50 percent from the same period in 2006.
About seven years ago, residents here say, Chinese salesmen began arriving with suitcases filled with smuggled watches, tools and small radios, closing up and moving on when the police arrived. More recently, Chinese merchants, who speak only passable Lao, received permission to open permanent stalls in the towns and small cities across Indochina. In Laos, these are known as "talad jin," or Chinese markets.
Khamphao and his neighbors all have $100 Chinese-made television sets connected to Chinese-made satellite dishes and decoders, causing both joy and occasional tension among family members sitting on the bare concrete or dirt floors of their living rooms. "I like watching the news," Khamphao said. "My children love to watch movies."
A two-hour interview with Khamphao was interrupted twice: once when his buffalo in the adjoining field gave birth to a healthy calf and a second time when a movie channel was showing ' 'Lost in Translation," and the actor Bill Murray sang an off-key rendition of Brian Ferry's "More Than This."
Khamphao's children, whose daily lives are almost exclusively confined to the mountain village, have picked up the Thai language from television and sing along to commercials broadcast from neighboring Thailand.
The enthusiasm for Chinese goods here is tempered by one commonly heard complaint: maintenance problems. "The quality of the Japanese brands is much better," said Gu Silibapaan, a 31-year-old motorcycle mechanic in Luang Prabang.
People with money, he said, buy Honda, Yamaha and Suzuki motorcycles.
(People with lots of money buy cars.)
Gu claims he can tell a Japanese brand, manufactured in Thailand, just by listening to the engine.
"It sounds more firm and the engine noise is softer," he said. Some Thai-made Japanese motorcycles can go 10 years without an engine overhaul. Chinese bikes, he said, usually need major repairs within 3 to 4 years.
"I want a motorcycle from Thailand but I don't have the money," said Kon Panlachit, a police officer who brought his Jinlong 110cc motorcycle to Gu's shop for repairs on a recent weekend.
"When I ride it, it makes a noise - dap, dap dap," Kon complained. "It's the second time I've brought it here for this problem."
The cheapest Thai-made Honda goes for 55,000 baht, about $1,670 - four times the price of the cheapest Chinese bikes, which are sold under many brand names, including Yinxiang, Dashan, Yincin, Zongshen and Honshun.
The influx of Chinese motorcycles is keeping mechanics busy in Luang Prabang. A decade ago there were only two or three repair shops in the city, says Gu. Now he counts 20.
Gu does not worry about maintenance for his own motorcycle.
"I have a Honda," the mechanic said.
For years, getting this prized produce to market meant carrying a giant basket on a back-breaking, daylong trek down narrow mountain trails that cut through the jungle. That is now changing, thanks in large part to China.
Villagers ride their cheap Chinese motorcycles, which sell for as little as $440, down a badly rutted dirt road to the markets of Luang Prabang, the charming city of Buddhist temples along the Mekong that draws flocks of foreign tourists. The trip takes just one and half hours.
"No one had a motorcycle before," said Khamphao Janphasid, 43, a teacher in the local school whose extended family now has three of them. "The only motorcycles that used to be available were Japanese and poor people couldn't afford them."
Cheap Chinese products are flooding China's southern neighbors, and consumers in Myanmar, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia are laying out the welcome mat.
The products are transforming the lives of some of the poorest people in Asia, whose worldly possessions only a few years ago typically consisted of not much more than a set or two of clothes, cooking utensils and a thatch-roofed house built by hand.
The concerns in the West about the safety of Chinese toys and pet food are largely moot for the people living in the remote villages here, although some residents complain about quality. As the first introduction to global capitalism, Chinese products are met with deep appreciation. "Life is better because prices are cheaper," Khamphao said.
Chinese television sets and satellite dishes connect villagers to the world, stereos fill their houses with music, and the Chinese motor scooters often serve as transport for entire families.
The motor scooters, which typically have small but adequate 110cc engines, literally save lives, says Saidoa Wu, the 43-year-old village headman of Long Lao Mai, a village nestled in a valley at the end of the dirt road, adjacent to Long Lao Gao. "Now when we have a sick person we can get to the hospital in time," Wu said.
The improvised bamboo stretchers that villagers here used as recently as a decade ago to carry gravely ill family members and neighbors down the mountain on foot are history. In a village of 150 families, Wu counts a total of 44 Chinese motorcycles, up from zero five years ago.
Chinese motorbikes fill the streets of Hanoi, Vientiane, Mandalay and other major cities in Indochina. Thirty-nine percent of the two million motorcycles sold annually in Vietnam are Chinese brands, according to Honda, which has a 34 percent market share.
Chinese exports to Vietnam, Myanmar and Laos amounted to $8.3 billion in the first eight months of the year, an increase of about 50 percent from the same period in 2006.
About seven years ago, residents here say, Chinese salesmen began arriving with suitcases filled with smuggled watches, tools and small radios, closing up and moving on when the police arrived. More recently, Chinese merchants, who speak only passable Lao, received permission to open permanent stalls in the towns and small cities across Indochina. In Laos, these are known as "talad jin," or Chinese markets.
Khamphao and his neighbors all have $100 Chinese-made television sets connected to Chinese-made satellite dishes and decoders, causing both joy and occasional tension among family members sitting on the bare concrete or dirt floors of their living rooms. "I like watching the news," Khamphao said. "My children love to watch movies."
A two-hour interview with Khamphao was interrupted twice: once when his buffalo in the adjoining field gave birth to a healthy calf and a second time when a movie channel was showing ' 'Lost in Translation," and the actor Bill Murray sang an off-key rendition of Brian Ferry's "More Than This."
Khamphao's children, whose daily lives are almost exclusively confined to the mountain village, have picked up the Thai language from television and sing along to commercials broadcast from neighboring Thailand.
The enthusiasm for Chinese goods here is tempered by one commonly heard complaint: maintenance problems. "The quality of the Japanese brands is much better," said Gu Silibapaan, a 31-year-old motorcycle mechanic in Luang Prabang.
People with money, he said, buy Honda, Yamaha and Suzuki motorcycles.
(People with lots of money buy cars.)
Gu claims he can tell a Japanese brand, manufactured in Thailand, just by listening to the engine.
"It sounds more firm and the engine noise is softer," he said. Some Thai-made Japanese motorcycles can go 10 years without an engine overhaul. Chinese bikes, he said, usually need major repairs within 3 to 4 years.
"I want a motorcycle from Thailand but I don't have the money," said Kon Panlachit, a police officer who brought his Jinlong 110cc motorcycle to Gu's shop for repairs on a recent weekend.
"When I ride it, it makes a noise - dap, dap dap," Kon complained. "It's the second time I've brought it here for this problem."
The cheapest Thai-made Honda goes for 55,000 baht, about $1,670 - four times the price of the cheapest Chinese bikes, which are sold under many brand names, including Yinxiang, Dashan, Yincin, Zongshen and Honshun.
The influx of Chinese motorcycles is keeping mechanics busy in Luang Prabang. A decade ago there were only two or three repair shops in the city, says Gu. Now he counts 20.
Gu does not worry about maintenance for his own motorcycle.
"I have a Honda," the mechanic said.
1 comment:
I see some chinese motorcycles in CAmbodia such as MCT, Shimo, Rambo, Honki, Cheeta, Zongshen... and the best brand to buy is MCT and Shimo as they come with acceptable quality. A freind of mind complain that why cheap USD500-600 chinese motorcycle (110cc) come with USD103 import tax or even higher while stupid expensive Honda and Suzuki pay just only less than USD100 tax and retail at USD1400.
How do the MOF/Tax Department collect the VAT10% or 1%Prepaid tax from Honda NCX and Suzuki OME
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