After dinner this evening I decided to walk off some of the rich, spicy Japanese curry I had just gorged on. There is nothing like a good walk after a big meal, especially on a new Spring night. I walked slowly, deciding to cut through Fuxing Park, with its reluctant palms still wrapped in winter's rope. Everywhere were lovers and friends, young and old, walking, sitting, and cycling in their way. The park's leafy paths were a murmuring shadow world of secrets. Intoxicated by all this rebound and rebirth, I strayed further than I wanted and got lost in the maze of walkways, finally finding myself on handsome Sinan Lu. Not caring in the least, I continued along this august corridor of plane trees, with their twisting camouflage trunks. The walking felt wonderful, and I suddenly wanted a coffee. I decided to double back and stop in at Figaro Cafe, hoping to grab a day old copy of The Herald Tribune while I was at it.
I don't know why I was so hungry tonight. Perhaps it was the weather. The past few days have been sun steeped and almost hot. The nights are trickier, as the damp winds blow through the old streets and make you reconsider that slim jacket, stylish though it may be. I decided to sit outside at the cafe and watch the people go by. There is never any shortage of people to look at in Shanghai. Slowly sipping the strong coffee, I perused the front page of the 'Mei guo bao' (American paper) and quickly decided it was too lovely a night to worry about the insanity of our times. I quickly read Doonesbury on the back page, and with a smile curling my lips I folded it up and put it into my bag.
The young Filipino waiter came out and started folding up the umbrellas and chairs, thoughtfully saving mine for last. A few lights went out inside and I found myself in near darkness. A car pulled into the space right in front of me and a busy little woman got out to inspect her parallel parking job - not a good one. But she seemed satisfied, and I quickly thought of a story someone told me about buying licenses and not having to take the test if you could afford it. Just then the meter maid appeared out of nowhere, amazingly still on the job.
'Do xiao chien?' Asked the small, lively woman. How much? The woman looked suspiciously at the meter maid, understandably unhappy that there was someone out collecting money at that time of night. I looked at my watch and saw that it was just past ten o'clock.
As the last lights of the cafe went out I crossed the road and turned the corner onto Danshui Lu. Within moments I had been nearly sideswiped by a junk collector's overburdened three wheeler - on the sidewalk naturally. As he pedalled by he spat the stub of his cigarette out, cleared his throat, and spat - not at me, or even near me, but close enough to let me know he'd seen me. His look told me he knew what his lot in life was, and exactly how much he could get away with. I chuckled out loud, letting him know I also knew. In this situation, no matter what anger I may display I am always ultimately simpatico.
As I crossed Zizhong Lu the life of the street instantly took on a new urgency. Add a few people and a street can become a neighborhood just like that. The owner of the shabby little restaurant near the corner was sweeping out the day's crusts and crumbs into the gutter. Across the road the old ladies were in their battered chairs in front of the corner store, like so many sentries. Just next to them a woman came out of the closed up tobacco shop; peeking in I could see that the regular card game had moved inside. She was wearing a pair of red flannel pajamas with a pattern of small teddy bears, a pink cardigan sweater, and house slippers. Noticing that I was peering into the sanctuary of their game, she quickly coughed, spat, and turned back to the gambling. Not a movement was wasted, and everything had a meaning.
About halfway up the block I started to realise that it was indeed chilly, and was thankful for the close proximity to my own building. All the shops along Danshui Lu were closing up for the night and throwing anything and everything out into the street for the sweepers to pick up later. Outside of the biggest fruiterer's shop I saw a fat calico cat rubbing up against a disused wooden crate - looking like it couldn't make its mind up whether to stay in or out for the night. A few steps later something caught my eye among the refuse of the gutter. It was a small dead cat - not much more than a kitten - and was in an awkward pose, as if it were prancing along a back alley fence, but frozen in time. It's orange fur was dirty and caked against its scrawny frame.
Just then I heard some rambunctious voices behind me, and heard a loud slap followed by hearty laughter. As the shadows caught up with me I was suddenly abreast of three teenagers in the full swing of happy camaraderie. One of them had obviously just clapped his friend just a little too hard on the back and they were rough housing. As they passed me they kept looking back over their shoulders, telling me instantly that they had been running gags and being rowdy all along the block. Two of the boys were wearing windbreakers and the third, a chubby kid, had on an ill-fitting tweed jacket. The other two were obviously giving him a hard time about his choice of attire, and trying to pull his blazer off. They were laughing happily, and started running up the block for no other reason than they were young and excited on a Spring night.
Waiting for the light to change at the corner of Fuxing Lu, I noticed that the two boys had shamed their friend into taking his jacket off amidst much joking and laughter. Then the light changed and they took off running up the street, but the heavy kid was breathing hard and kept walking, holding his jacket at his side. The other two were calling back to him and taunting, but he kept his pace knowingly. I knew then that they were heading to Jianguo Lu, and its many 'Pink Houses' - barber shops where you can get just about anything but a haircut. Nothing else could explain this level of hilarity, hope, and nerves. The fat kid suddenly started to shuffle along a bit faster, calling to his pals. He almost broke into a light jog, but somehow his body was against him. He was sweating and mopping his neck; yelling to his friends who were by now almost a block ahead of him. They were well out of sight now as I crossed the road to my building, but still he didn't run. Surely they have a plan, I thought, and they will know where to meet up.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Insanity
I can now access blogger, write my blog, but cannot actually look at it or access my own blog from the web. Nuts!
Saturday, April 07, 2007
And I'm back...Words of Wisdom II
You wanna know what it's like living in China?
A month of not being able to access your blog, that's what it's like. At first I thought, 'Oh, Google has a bad relationship with China' (so I'm told) - so that's the reason. Then I thought, 'Well it must be my slow connection, sometimes I can't get into gmail or msn'. But gradually it dawned on me that something darker was at work, and I was being censored. Good Lord! For what? The only thing I can come up with is that I mentioned a certain government's p.a.r.t.y. in my last entry, so from now on I will refer to them as The Boys in Green. Let's see how long I last.
But enough of that, I'm celebrating my re-found access by revisiting an old favorite, so here it is: Words of Wisdom II, the sequel.
In the first Words of Wisdom I mentioned a certain exercise devise made out of rubber that is basically a knock-off of a similar workout fad that you may remember from late night television ads in America in the 80's. Anyway, I didn't do the Chinese version's copywriters justice last time by not letting you see their whole packaging spiel. It's really quite special, so here goes:
'The new type of pulling force named LICHAO is made of high-tech material of environmented (sic) protection. The new product is different from the traditional spring force. It is very convenient and safe to use wherever. So it is very popular to women and children. If you often exercise with it, you will be more healthful and beautiful, and it can make your chest more strongly and help in the growth of your skeleton and so on'. (That's how they ended it, not me).
Now I ask you, who doesn't want their chest to be more strongly? Especially woman and kids. And God knows we all need a fit skeleton.
Another gem I came across was the text on a lovely Chun Jie (Chinese New year) tangerine wrapper, and it goes a little sumpin like this...
'Ming Hua mandarin is Orange, contains rich maize element, Vc, Vp, and carotene, resistant to cancet (sic), health spleen, moisten lung, relieve a cough, it's appearance beautify, juice savory, flesh delicious, not only is norishing (sic) product, but also is preserve your health!'
Where to start? The tangerine is orange, who knew?? Contains, um, corn? (certainly a bio- miracle). It has Vc, Vp, and carotene? Okay...Vc could possibly be vitamin C, but that would make Vp...whoa! Don't tell Popeye! In a humid city like Shanghai, the last thing anyone wants is moister lungs, but just in case you do...get some of this flesh delicious down your slot.
Moving on, I have lately seen some ads that leave no doubt in my mind that generally speaking, the Chinese couldn't care less about the English language - even as they are trying desperately to learn it to sell things to us. A good example is condos. Most of the developers knocking down the old row houses are hoping against hope that they can attract big spending expats and the multi-national companies footing their bills. So they have outrageous 'luxury' images all over the billboards outside the construction sites and in magazines. This is a twofold marketing angle, because images of wealthy laowai (no need for poor ones) are also attractive to prospective Chinese buyers, who want more than anything to be 'classy' and consume western goods ravenously; and above all, to be able to look down unabashedly on those with less. I already mentioned Rich Gate in a previous story, so now I present another new condo that's going up a few blocks from my house called Shanghai Dynasty.
First of all, to make room for Shanghai Dynasty's rather dull looking towers (but that doesn't matter, so long as it's new, new, new!) they had to literally cut off a section of Madang Lu, a fairly major thoroughfare. So now the road makes a wide arc around the new gardens of Shanghai Dynasty. Never mind that along the way they just gutted a neighborhood of row houses, leaving some standing and others demolished - and one old factory building with a second storey walkway simply got cut in half. So where the new road is now, if you look up you see a rectangular box, cut in half, dangling out over the road. Luck of the draw I suppose. Suddenly people who have lived for generations firmly ensconced in the labyrinthian courtyards of old Shanghai are opening a door rightontothestreet. Must be a bit of an eye opener first thing in the a.m.
But the Shanghainese just keep on going. They get on with it. So I guess I should to. The other day I was walking by there and it was the first time I noticed that they had re-routed Madang Lu. The landscape changes so fast here that you really have to pay attention. As I approached the construction gate of Shanghai Dynasty (photo of a huge family crest looking thing in gold and crimson velvet with SD engraved on it) I noticed the ubiquitous guard shack, complete with coughing, spitting, chain smoking guard. I pretended to be taking down the booking information as I walked past him to get a good look at the ads. Naturally he came out and started barking at me in Shanghaihua, and just as naturally I feigned ignorance and pointed at the walls with a look that said 'I may buy one of these things and then you'll be working for me!'
He let me go in.
The first thing I noticed about the ads was that they all featured a very attractive (I suppose, if you like catalogue model/soap opera looks) Chinese couple, doing things like hugging in their fabulous (hideously decorated) foyer, or posing austerely in front of a foreign sports car (in black tie no less). Photo-shopped into the rest of the billboards all around them were healthy blond looking loawais doing things like playing tennis, playing golf, sailing (where, on the Huangpu River?) and miraculously - fencing! In fact it looked as if those madcap laowai were actually fencing in the lobby of Shanghai Dynasty, with what looked like a magnum of champagne near at hand. Now that's pretty Scott and Zelda. I'm not entirely sure what the mega-wealthy do with their spare time, but I don't think looped lobby fencing is part of it. But how would I know? I was tempted to find a paint pen and create the captions next to their big blond heads.
Rory: 'En garde, Spunky!'
Spunky: 'But Rory, we're in the lobby.'
Rory: 'Obviously, but we're also in fencing outfits, in fact I have an epee in my hand.'
Spunky: 'Oooh lala, we're rich...touche!'
Alas, I had no pen. But I had walked up close to get a look at the detail of the ads, and the closer I got, the more amazed I became. The shiftless guard, having finished his tea and in need of a pee or a good throat clearing, decided to come over and give me some shit. But I was a step ahead of him and quickly put my phone to ear and started an animated conversation in American TV English while pointing to the sign. Something along the lines of 'See here, I want a pool in the apartment, damn it, preferably olympic size...think you can manage that? Good. Money's no object. I'll have my people over there first thing tomorrow with sack of gold...' Not that it mattered, the puzzled guard certainly didn't know a breath of English anyway. Finally he decided my inscrutable laowainess, a conundrum in and of itself, just wasn't worth the trouble; despite the offense of my rather downmarket ensemble - jeans, sneakers, and a sweat shirt. In protest, or possibly just to let me know he had his glassy eye on me, he cleared his throat heroically, spat voluminously, glared contemptuously (phew!) and ambled back into his little hut.
Now, aside from all the carefree white folks on the billboard, there was also a manifesto of sorts, which, although it read like some bizarre Forbes Magazine haiku, was nonetheless telling. The opening salvo was pretty good: 'Shanghai Dynasty, an arch masterpiece' (picture of Chinese couple drinking bubbly at sunset). This was then followed by, 'It's vile to regard possessions as a number only' (two couples: one laowai, and the other sort of pan-Asian looking, experiencing the thrill of winning money at a casino - quite possibly on a boat, since one of them was wearing a yachting cap...as you do). And in summation, these words to live by, 'Someone collect Shanghai with taste.' I wish someone would. All around these money mantras were little hard to see (black on dark blue) subliminal messages, like 'In love with Shanghai Dynasty', and some were just words: Golf...Swimming...Bread...Rathskellar...Bold...Automobile...Priviledge...
Wait, bread? What's that about? Rathskeller?? These kinds of ads always do my head in because they are so exactly the opposite of what they set out to be. Instead of subliminal they are painfully obvious and unsubtle, and when put through the Chinese-to-English word finder they often become surreal. And so somehow golf plus bread divided by rathskeller equals one hell of an exclusive/expensive condominium. Oy vey! In the immortal words of Chuck Barris' grandmother, 'go know'.
Finally, I would like to share with you a large advertisement I saw at the notions market on Renmin Lu. I was shopping for some large feathers (don't ask) and I suddenly noticed escalators leading up to a hitherto unexplored second floor. The second floor proved to be a very uneventful series of knock-off bag and clothing shops. They were all of poor quality, although some had hilarious names like 'Cardill' (in exactly the same style logo as Dunhill), and 'Louis Brittan' (you can guess the rest). But the best thing I saw there was a full size 8'x10' poster for a handbag company called Satchi. It showed a very average looking, vaguely Mediterranean (i.e. unshaven) guy and a blond girl who looked like someone they found in an English language school. But they were laowai and that's all that really matters. This is one of the all-time best bludgeonings of the English language I've seen, and actually borders on inventing a new tongue altogether. I humbly submit:
'Satchi bags...And the typecast our eachothers friendships...Our love wer (sic) whisking on my fraity (sic) heart...Eyes on her...The beat of mine almost turn to jam up'
Well, it's true what they say kids - you just can't make it up. You have to see it for yourself to know it. And I am deeply, deeply grateful to be here in Shanghai seeing and knowing. And happy to be back in the blogosphere...
A month of not being able to access your blog, that's what it's like. At first I thought, 'Oh, Google has a bad relationship with China' (so I'm told) - so that's the reason. Then I thought, 'Well it must be my slow connection, sometimes I can't get into gmail or msn'. But gradually it dawned on me that something darker was at work, and I was being censored. Good Lord! For what? The only thing I can come up with is that I mentioned a certain government's p.a.r.t.y. in my last entry, so from now on I will refer to them as The Boys in Green. Let's see how long I last.
But enough of that, I'm celebrating my re-found access by revisiting an old favorite, so here it is: Words of Wisdom II, the sequel.
In the first Words of Wisdom I mentioned a certain exercise devise made out of rubber that is basically a knock-off of a similar workout fad that you may remember from late night television ads in America in the 80's. Anyway, I didn't do the Chinese version's copywriters justice last time by not letting you see their whole packaging spiel. It's really quite special, so here goes:
'The new type of pulling force named LICHAO is made of high-tech material of environmented (sic) protection. The new product is different from the traditional spring force. It is very convenient and safe to use wherever. So it is very popular to women and children. If you often exercise with it, you will be more healthful and beautiful, and it can make your chest more strongly and help in the growth of your skeleton and so on'. (That's how they ended it, not me).
Now I ask you, who doesn't want their chest to be more strongly? Especially woman and kids. And God knows we all need a fit skeleton.
Another gem I came across was the text on a lovely Chun Jie (Chinese New year) tangerine wrapper, and it goes a little sumpin like this...
'Ming Hua mandarin is Orange, contains rich maize element, Vc, Vp, and carotene, resistant to cancet (sic), health spleen, moisten lung, relieve a cough, it's appearance beautify, juice savory, flesh delicious, not only is norishing (sic) product, but also is preserve your health!'
Where to start? The tangerine is orange, who knew?? Contains, um, corn? (certainly a bio- miracle). It has Vc, Vp, and carotene? Okay...Vc could possibly be vitamin C, but that would make Vp...whoa! Don't tell Popeye! In a humid city like Shanghai, the last thing anyone wants is moister lungs, but just in case you do...get some of this flesh delicious down your slot.
Moving on, I have lately seen some ads that leave no doubt in my mind that generally speaking, the Chinese couldn't care less about the English language - even as they are trying desperately to learn it to sell things to us. A good example is condos. Most of the developers knocking down the old row houses are hoping against hope that they can attract big spending expats and the multi-national companies footing their bills. So they have outrageous 'luxury' images all over the billboards outside the construction sites and in magazines. This is a twofold marketing angle, because images of wealthy laowai (no need for poor ones) are also attractive to prospective Chinese buyers, who want more than anything to be 'classy' and consume western goods ravenously; and above all, to be able to look down unabashedly on those with less. I already mentioned Rich Gate in a previous story, so now I present another new condo that's going up a few blocks from my house called Shanghai Dynasty.
First of all, to make room for Shanghai Dynasty's rather dull looking towers (but that doesn't matter, so long as it's new, new, new!) they had to literally cut off a section of Madang Lu, a fairly major thoroughfare. So now the road makes a wide arc around the new gardens of Shanghai Dynasty. Never mind that along the way they just gutted a neighborhood of row houses, leaving some standing and others demolished - and one old factory building with a second storey walkway simply got cut in half. So where the new road is now, if you look up you see a rectangular box, cut in half, dangling out over the road. Luck of the draw I suppose. Suddenly people who have lived for generations firmly ensconced in the labyrinthian courtyards of old Shanghai are opening a door rightontothestreet. Must be a bit of an eye opener first thing in the a.m.
But the Shanghainese just keep on going. They get on with it. So I guess I should to. The other day I was walking by there and it was the first time I noticed that they had re-routed Madang Lu. The landscape changes so fast here that you really have to pay attention. As I approached the construction gate of Shanghai Dynasty (photo of a huge family crest looking thing in gold and crimson velvet with SD engraved on it) I noticed the ubiquitous guard shack, complete with coughing, spitting, chain smoking guard. I pretended to be taking down the booking information as I walked past him to get a good look at the ads. Naturally he came out and started barking at me in Shanghaihua, and just as naturally I feigned ignorance and pointed at the walls with a look that said 'I may buy one of these things and then you'll be working for me!'
He let me go in.
The first thing I noticed about the ads was that they all featured a very attractive (I suppose, if you like catalogue model/soap opera looks) Chinese couple, doing things like hugging in their fabulous (hideously decorated) foyer, or posing austerely in front of a foreign sports car (in black tie no less). Photo-shopped into the rest of the billboards all around them were healthy blond looking loawais doing things like playing tennis, playing golf, sailing (where, on the Huangpu River?) and miraculously - fencing! In fact it looked as if those madcap laowai were actually fencing in the lobby of Shanghai Dynasty, with what looked like a magnum of champagne near at hand. Now that's pretty Scott and Zelda. I'm not entirely sure what the mega-wealthy do with their spare time, but I don't think looped lobby fencing is part of it. But how would I know? I was tempted to find a paint pen and create the captions next to their big blond heads.
Rory: 'En garde, Spunky!'
Spunky: 'But Rory, we're in the lobby.'
Rory: 'Obviously, but we're also in fencing outfits, in fact I have an epee in my hand.'
Spunky: 'Oooh lala, we're rich...touche!'
Alas, I had no pen. But I had walked up close to get a look at the detail of the ads, and the closer I got, the more amazed I became. The shiftless guard, having finished his tea and in need of a pee or a good throat clearing, decided to come over and give me some shit. But I was a step ahead of him and quickly put my phone to ear and started an animated conversation in American TV English while pointing to the sign. Something along the lines of 'See here, I want a pool in the apartment, damn it, preferably olympic size...think you can manage that? Good. Money's no object. I'll have my people over there first thing tomorrow with sack of gold...' Not that it mattered, the puzzled guard certainly didn't know a breath of English anyway. Finally he decided my inscrutable laowainess, a conundrum in and of itself, just wasn't worth the trouble; despite the offense of my rather downmarket ensemble - jeans, sneakers, and a sweat shirt. In protest, or possibly just to let me know he had his glassy eye on me, he cleared his throat heroically, spat voluminously, glared contemptuously (phew!) and ambled back into his little hut.
Now, aside from all the carefree white folks on the billboard, there was also a manifesto of sorts, which, although it read like some bizarre Forbes Magazine haiku, was nonetheless telling. The opening salvo was pretty good: 'Shanghai Dynasty, an arch masterpiece' (picture of Chinese couple drinking bubbly at sunset). This was then followed by, 'It's vile to regard possessions as a number only' (two couples: one laowai, and the other sort of pan-Asian looking, experiencing the thrill of winning money at a casino - quite possibly on a boat, since one of them was wearing a yachting cap...as you do). And in summation, these words to live by, 'Someone collect Shanghai with taste.' I wish someone would. All around these money mantras were little hard to see (black on dark blue) subliminal messages, like 'In love with Shanghai Dynasty', and some were just words: Golf...Swimming...Bread...Rathskellar...Bold...Automobile...Priviledge...
Wait, bread? What's that about? Rathskeller?? These kinds of ads always do my head in because they are so exactly the opposite of what they set out to be. Instead of subliminal they are painfully obvious and unsubtle, and when put through the Chinese-to-English word finder they often become surreal. And so somehow golf plus bread divided by rathskeller equals one hell of an exclusive/expensive condominium. Oy vey! In the immortal words of Chuck Barris' grandmother, 'go know'.
Finally, I would like to share with you a large advertisement I saw at the notions market on Renmin Lu. I was shopping for some large feathers (don't ask) and I suddenly noticed escalators leading up to a hitherto unexplored second floor. The second floor proved to be a very uneventful series of knock-off bag and clothing shops. They were all of poor quality, although some had hilarious names like 'Cardill' (in exactly the same style logo as Dunhill), and 'Louis Brittan' (you can guess the rest). But the best thing I saw there was a full size 8'x10' poster for a handbag company called Satchi. It showed a very average looking, vaguely Mediterranean (i.e. unshaven) guy and a blond girl who looked like someone they found in an English language school. But they were laowai and that's all that really matters. This is one of the all-time best bludgeonings of the English language I've seen, and actually borders on inventing a new tongue altogether. I humbly submit:
'Satchi bags...And the typecast our eachothers friendships...Our love wer (sic) whisking on my fraity (sic) heart...Eyes on her...The beat of mine almost turn to jam up'
Well, it's true what they say kids - you just can't make it up. You have to see it for yourself to know it. And I am deeply, deeply grateful to be here in Shanghai seeing and knowing. And happy to be back in the blogosphere...
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