Traditions abound in Chinese district

Tourists interested in bargain hunting and exotic foods are just a short train ride away from Chinatown.
KNIGHT RIDDER NEWSPAPERS
CHINATOWN -- A gaggle of bronzed Peking ducks hangs in a window overlooking Canal Street. Shops promise fresh fish, bok choy, fried tofu, lucky bamboo. The local Charles Schwab investment office sits in a pagoda-style tower, perched atop a Starbucks. And amid the red paper lanterns and silk purses are the season's hot items: plastic swimming frogs and flying pigs.
A decade ago, such bustling Chinese districts were common in cities throughout Asia. But with the wakening of the Sleeping Panda, China's own metropolises have become gleaming forests of skyscrapers and designer malls. These days, traditional Chinese ways may be most visible in places like Manhattan's Chinatown, a nine-block area just south of Canal.
In the post-9/11 world, even this century-old district is threatened. A road closure and security boundaries around nearby courthouses and New York's central police station have made getting to Chinatown a hassle -- at least for the lunch crowd that used to come over from the financial district, says Paul Lee, owner of the Mott Street General Store, where Chinese immigrants have come for goods and understanding for 111 years.
For tourists staying in mid- or upper Manhattan, though, getting to Chinatown is as easy as hopping on the 4, 5 or 6 train -- small effort for an afternoon of bargain hunting, haggling, Cantonese cuisine and endless pots of tea.
Blue crabs -- $6.99 a dozen! Flying pigs -- $8!
'A cultural experience'
"It's a cultural experience," says Charlie Eiler, visiting from Minneapolis with his wife and two teen-age children. "There are such different foods -- heads, feet, even intestines."
"I like it. It's different from home," his wife, Mavis, says.
Jane Harbaugh of West Palm Beach, Fla., came to Chinatown for cheap CDs and other bargains, including perfume and teapots.
"I can get these things at home," she says, "but they're cheaper here."
At times, it seems you can get just about anything here -- from Kate Spade knockoffs to carved jade dragons to traditional Chinese medicinal herbs like dried sea scallops ($59.80 per pound), dried abalone ($18 per pound) and dried sea horse ($16.99 per pound).
Kamm An, a department store at 200 Canal, is a particularly rich trove, with two floors of tea shops, celadon dishes, ceramic planters covered with blue tulips and peonies, chopsticks, teas (keemum black, lychee black, ginseng oolong), sweet fruits, dried mushrooms and dried shrimp, soy and tempura sauces and marinades.
"The assortment is just amazing," says Kate Gilhuly, who splits time between Miami and Long Island.
New ways arrive
That's even truer as you move away from the traffic of Canal Street and on to the quieter corners of Mott, Bayard and Mulberry streets. Here, away from the frenzy, the Chinese traditions are giving way to new ways that are no less Chinese.
At the chic, brick-walled Ten Ren's Tea Time, for instance, you can linger over tapioca fruit iced tea in peppermint, kumquat lemon or passion fruit, perhaps with a green tea scone or steamed turnip cake. Wander into the Good Field Trading Company to consider tea sets and Buddha statues, or peer into the Eastern State Buddha Temple of American, set up in a storefront.
This isn't just for tourists. TV sets are tuned to Chinese-language programs, and some shopkeepers struggle to do business in English.
Several shops here specialize in antiques -- chests, drums, statues -- at prices that compete with those in Hong Kong.
If all this shopping has made you hungry, don't despair. Bayard Street is restaurant row.
At Tang's, for instance, you can choose from braised sliced abalone in sea cucumber sauce or roast pork with Chinese vegetables.
Lin's Dumplings offers pastries filled with shrimp, scallops, beef, pork and squid.
At the Golden Fung Wong Bakery, you can get fortune cookies by the dozen or opt for pineapple pie.
Or if you'd like something refreshing, try the tangerine sorbet or ginger ice cream at the Original Chinatown Ice Cream Factory.