Digital Chronicles of China: incidentally yours | MacGeneration

It is a country where Google, Facebook and other Twitter that we cannot do without are almost non-existent. This country is China. Expatriate in the Middle Kingdom, Mathieu Fouquet tells us about his technological journey.

China, the final frontier (or maybe it was space? I often confuse them). A place that is not so far from our familiar landmarks, but that knows how to differ enough to sometimes amaze us, sometimes play with our sanity. Is it an American coffee shop that I see there, or a traditional Chinese business whose premises date back to the Qing dynasty?

The same goes for the entire hardware ecosystem that surrounds our precious devices: recognizable at first sight (whether in France or in China, a shell protects, a charging cable and a battery explodes), it takes in the Empire in the middle of sometimes unexpected turns. And colorful.

The Empire of Objects

MacG Excluded: China isn't too bad when it comes to crafting items. So gifted, in fact, that it's hard to truly grasp the titanic scale of her production capabilities. 500,000 iPhones assembled in a day in a factory is impressive, but it's still an abstract number that is difficult to visualize (unless perhaps you work for Foxconn).

The situation changes slightly when you live in the country. In my previous column on transport, I briefly mentioned bike rental services such as ofo or Mobike, which offer users the ability to unlock and borrow bicycles via their smartphone for a pittance. That in itself is already impressive enough, but it's nothing compared to the speed at which these startups have been able to install — and continue to install — fleets (or rather tsunamis) of two-wheelers across the country. Mobike wants to produce 10 million bicycles in 2017? It's a number. But to see it appear overnight in his neighborhood:

…it's magic.

Living in China therefore means living as close as possible to a gigantic industrial machine, with all the consequences that implies. You suddenly have access to an ocean of products of all kinds, often very affordable (low wages and economies of scale), frequently useful and – with a bit of luck – extremely kitsch.

And who says ocean of products, of course says a tidal wave of accessories and technological gadgets of all kinds. You can quickly drown in it if you're not careful, but the same common sense applies everywhere: if it costs a few cents, it's probably not of incredible quality. And if it's a Totoro product, you have to buy it. It's the law.

And as far as quoting the obvious, let's note that all consumer products (technological or not) are not systematically cheaper in China: when I had to buy a MacBook Air charger, the bill was as painful as in France (it is true, however, that Apple machines are often more affordable in the Middle Kingdom; for example, a high-end 15-inch MacBook Pro there currently costs €2,914, compared to €3,299 in France) .

However, it is far from impossible to find accessories of reasonable quality and at a ridiculous price. When my iPhone's cable started to show serious signs of weakness (I swear I take care of my business), finding a replacement wasn't difficult: for 25 yuan (around €3), I had a braided cable of almost two meters, and — icing on the cake — matching my phone:

Rock, the company that manufactures them, is not confined to charging cables but offers various accessories such as headphones, USB keys and essential selfie sticks – sorry, self-portraits. Impossible to comment on the quality of their entire catalog, but the cable fulfills its function in any case. And if my iPhone explodes tomorrow, it will have been for science.

And speaking of explosions…

If there are accessories that I have frequently seen in trains and cafes in China, it is the external batteries. Are they more widespread than in France? Perhaps. In any case, they are very practical in the event of a breakdown (how am I supposed to orient myself without my electronic brain?) and are — surprise! - very cheap. Xiaomi, which is definitely trying to compete with Samsung in its jack-of-all-trades role, for example markets a “Power Bank” range. I had personally opted for the 10,000 mAh version, more than enough for my modest needs, which moreover saved my life when my neighborhood experienced a power outage. It doesn't happen often, but when it does...

In short, it is not very complicated in China to find products whose quality/price ratio sometimes seems unreal. Be warned: if you stay too long in the country, your brain will adapt very quickly to this new reality – and not just for the technological accessories. When a meal costs a pittance (sorry) and you can reasonably fill your basket at the supermarket for around twenty euros, it can be painful to return to French reality.

One iRing to rule them all

Phone cases in China are nothing short of a miracle. If one were to draw a Venn diagram with the categories 'many', 'cheap' and 'kitsch', cases and other protections would proudly take center stage. In fact, there is so much for everyone that these in The iPhone's dispensable companions easily deserve their own article. But let's not deprive ourselves of the pleasure of a quick overview...

Here we have an interesting combination: a normal case with an adhesive ring added. It's no exaggeration to say that these rings — or iRing — are absolutely ubiquitous in China. Whether one adheres (sorry) or not to the design, they are supposed to fulfill several functions: to allow the user to have a more secure grip on his phone, to transform the latter into an object that can be hung anywhere, and finally act as a crutch, for example to put the iPhone on a table in landscape mode.

And no, it does not uncap the phone.

Another great classic, which can also be found on a legion of mugs and t-shirts: French is either approximate (see: franponais), or correct… but whose message sometimes escapes unlucky customers. This is of course the case here, to the chagrin of the couple concerned (because yes, they both had the same protection; it is also quite common to see Chinese couples wearing similar clothes). I deeply regret having translated this shell: a few days later, their iPhones had mysteriously changed their face.

And then of course, there is always the possibility of doing things discreetly.

The mystery of AssistiveTouch

Admittedly, it is not an accessory strictly speaking, but it has nevertheless almost become a trademark of Chinese iPhones: AssistiveTouch, an accessibility setting that allows you to display a menu on the screen including shortcuts (available in Settings > General > Accessibility > AssistiveTouch), has met with unexpected and inexplicable success in the Middle Kingdom.

The most popular theory is that Chinese users, worried about the price of their phone, and determined to preserve its value, prefer to avoid pressing the physical home button on the iPhone, which has the reputation of being damage after too many uses. Yes, but here it is: if the first models of the Apple phone were perhaps fragile at this level, it is far from being a problem today, all the more since the iPhone 7 and its button of touch reception. If this theory is correct, then China maintains from one generation of iPhone to another this strange habit by sheer inertia, a habit whose roots are now so deep that one could almost speak of culture.

But really, should we be surprised that China once again turns out to be a parallel world of delicious surprises?