Chinatown Vendor Tallies Neighborhood's Decline in $1 Plastic Bracelets

The Changing Face of Chinatown’s Street Vendors #

By the time Shaohua Yu set up his stall around 10 a.m., Chinatown was bustling. Tourists roamed Canal Street, where vendors sold fake designer products. Nearby, roasted ducks hung in the New Kam Man supermarket window. For over 20 years, Yu has worked between Mulberry and Mott Streets but now finds the hustle no longer promises prosperity.

Originally celebrated for crafting palm-leaf sculptures, Yu’s offerings have shifted to plastic bracelets and knit caps. Since arriving in New York from Wuhan, China, in 1999, Yu was unique. He mastered palm-leaf weaving, creating elephants, cranes, and dragons, selling some for up to $35. However, the pandemic and an increase in online shopping have diminished demand.

Chinatown, once vibrant, was hit hard by the September 11 attacks and rising rents, reducing its Chinese population by 15% from 2000 to 2010 and another 10% by 2020. The area saw new problems as e-commerce made quirky souvenirs universally accessible. Traditional markets struggled, and aggressive bargaining became more common.

Yu began his journey in the U.S. with optimism, envisioning a prosperous future. He settled in Chinatown with his wife, focusing on his craft. The market for palm-leaf dragons dwindled over time. Meanwhile, his ex-wife and her new partner exposed this craft to other areas, such as Times Square, but with similar challenges.

Despite adversity, new businesses bring renewed energy to Chinatown. Bubble tea shops and cafes revitalize the area, and gift shops run by Bangladeshi immigrants seek to reignite business. “We are trying to make Chinatown crowded again,” observed one shop owner. These efforts, however, alter Chinatown’s traditional identity.

Yu reflects on his life with mixed emotions. Chronic pain from relentless crafting still affects him. He misses the once-bustling Chinatown streets, though camaraderie remains with friends and passersby. Engaged in conversations about politics, he once enthusiastically supported Trump’s economic policies.

He closes his stand by 7 p.m., downsized from his pre-pandemic 10 p.m. routine. With nostalgia, Yu remarked, “When I just came to the U.S., I thought, it’s such a great country, I won’t hesitate to fight a war for it.” As he packs away his goods for the subway ride home, he laments the transformations in both Chinatown and America. “This feels like a different Chinatown, too,” he added wearily.