little trouble in big china

There don't seem to be any new guesses forthcoming, so here you go, the answer to last week's Name That Statue quiz. Perhaps a more complete look at the statue will give it away.

Although Craig was clearly on the right track in terms of logical thought, his high school must have used a different history textbook from mine, because I have long had a clear impression of what Marx looked like. When Dan of England and I came across this statue, though, it occurred to me that I couldn't remember ever seeing a picture of Engels. Poor Engels -- the Sancho Panza of economics, cast aside despite his instrumental role in a seminal work. I'd compare him to a more appropriate unjustly-second fiddle, but I can't remember any of their names. Much less what they looked like.

Incidentally, this statue was only built in 1985, which I find mildly entertaining.

If you're a city-streets cyclist, at some point you encounter the feeling of triumph that occurs when you can whiz right past an automotive traffic jam. Here in Shanghai, where there aren't as many huge (multi-lane both directions) roads as most US cities and traffic can get jammed fairly easily, I think cyclists and motorcyclists are used to this feeling... but apparently they don't always escape the misery.

I walked right past this mess and still couldn't figure out exactly what the problem was -- I think it might have had something to do with the van, and perhaps another car next to it, but it wasn't an accident or anything. Almost all of the traffic was two-wheeled vehicles, and even the bicycles couldn't slip by. This street features a ton of food vendors, so maybe one of the cars was stopped to buy something, or maybe the two cars just couldn't pass each other because either a food stand or foot traffic had narrowed the road too much. Anyway, there was plenty of yelling and beeping from the riders, and plenty of amusement for the pedestrians.

"Can I have the one in middle? No, not that one... one more up... the one next to that..."

It doesn't have quite the same ring as "my first paycheck" or "my first apartment," does it? Nevertheless, it's true.

So far my mail here had fallen into one of two categories -- personal correspondence and utility bills. There's also the occasional missive from the building complex, but since that doesn't actually come through the post office, it doesn't qualify for its own category.

Today, however, I opened my mailbox to find a very strange piece of mail. A catalog, in fact. From a place called Harbor House (never heard of them), which appears to be sort of like Pottery Barn, only more alliterative. It's a very nice catalog, all glossy and four-color, with a reasonable heft; the kind of catalog you'd get in the US if you've ever used a credit card at a merchandising store and haven't opted out of junk mail.  And in fact, despite the fact that my address on the plastic cover wrap was printed in Chinese, the return address showing through was in English: Fremont, CA. 

Lo and behold, despite a California return address, once the wrapping came off I saw the list of no fewer than 6 addresses of stores in China, including three in Shanghai. But here's what I think is funny -- while the catalog is clearly geared to the store's Chinese audience, with prices in RMB and product descriptions in Chinese... the product titles are in English. Huh?? And before you tell me they wanted consistency with the English version of the catalog, or some way of checking the item for inventory, etc., purposes, (a) each product carries a product number, which is presumably universal, and (b) some of them have typos.

Color me confused.

Shanghai is divided by a river. The old city is on the west side, newer development (including some of the world's tallest buildings) is on the east side. There are a number of ways to get from one side to the other, including bus, subway, and ferry. But according to all the guidebooks, the absolute tackiest way to cross is via the Bund Sightseeing Tunnel. Which Dan and I of course had to do.

It's fantastic, by which I mean hilariously nonsensical and full of 1980s-style lighting effects. It's sort of like being in Epcot in 1985, or trapped in a sci-fi B-movie.

The ride begins when you get in this capsule that looks like a miniature Metro car (left). There are fold-down seats for 3 people, but our car had 4 adults and one child. I suppose at peak hours they might try to cram in more people, but there wasn't anything approximating a rush when we were there.

The car then sets off through the Tunnel of Silly Effects, including rings of bright yellow-orange light, flashing dots of colored light ("meteor shower," a recorded voice in the car intones in English), inflatable "people" with long arms that sway and "grab" onto the car as you pass by, and rings of blue and green light.

I suppose little kids might get a good kick out of it -- I didn't pay enough attention to the one in our car to see his reaction. And it would perhaps be more impressive if the tunnel were actually dark enough to prevent you from seeing the mechanics behind the effects (e.g., the walls of the tunnel and the other cars), but it's a little hard to ooh and aah when you can see the literal light at the end of the tunnel.

My first visitor, aka my friend Dan, arrived this week, so I've been spending a good deal of time out and about being both tourist and semi-tour guide (and not, you may have noticed, updating the blog). Dan left to join a tour group without sampling the funny drink, but he may yet get another chance next week if his tour gets rerouted to Shanghai in place of Chengdu. You may leave words of encouragement, or taunting, in the comments.

Anyway, our sightseeing took us to a park downtown that was new to me, where I found this statue (not shown in its entirety, obviously). Anyone recognize this guy?  I'll elaborate sometime next week.

Last weekend, the Chinese government decided (some might say capitulated to public demand for) that it was time for a formal mourning period for the victims of the Chengdu earthquake. On Monday morning, notices went out via all kinds of media that there would be three days of national mourning, with appropriate solemnity to be marked through various means, including lowered flags, the abrogation of certain forms of entertainment including the temporary shutdown of online gaming and movie sites, muting or extiguishing lights along the traditionally vibrant nighttime river skyline, and the broadcast of nothing but earthquake-related coverage on all television channels and news websites. Also, at 2:28pm on Monday, commemorating the exact time and duration of the earthquake, three minutes of silent tribute would be paid, "and at the appropriate time the automobile, the train, the ships blow a whistle, the air defense warning resounds." (English version of a notice posted by my building's management company)

I'm not sure whether the official Chinese version was worded any more clearly, but the result was that for about three minutes on Monday afternoon, people halted, solemnly lined up on sidewalks or looking out office windows, traffic by and large stopped...and horns blared for the duration.

You might be aware (if you've seen a newspaper in the last two years) that China is booming. In the cities, this means, among other things, new! more! bigger! buildings. Construction is constant and everywhere. It also seems to me, for the most part, to be very fast. I happened to talk to an architect recently who told me that she was given an estimate of construction time for a shopping mall project -- one year, start to finish. Now, I don't know the details of this -- how many stories, whether that includes the 3 months' interior-finishing work, etc., but I think it would be fairly unlikely that the building is anything under 6 or 7 stories (and could possibly be more than 30, as some put office space on top of the many layers of retail, food, and supermarket). I also don't know how that compares to a similar project in the US or Europe, but it sounds fast to me.

I do know that as recently as Chinese New Year (early February), the area in this photo (left) consisted of a big dirt lot. This is what it looked like a little over three months later. In the last five months, I've also seen huge hotel buildings progress from skeleton status to nearly-done (or at least, they look nearly done from the outside).

A block of road near my house was starting to be torn up when I came home late one Saturday night (closing one lane at a time), cars were kicking up dust driving on its dirt layer on Sunday, I avoided it Monday, and when I went by again on Tuesday, traffic was sailing over the completely-repaved version.

And then there's the subway. I believe Shanghai opened three new lines at the end of last year, and is scheduled to open at least two more new ones next year (none in 2008, as far as I know). Partial impetus for all of this comes from the World Expo scheduled to be held here in 2010 (in the same way that the Olympics are spurring Beijing's intense development/rehabilitation), but part of it is also just the drive to make China's urban areas into world-class cities. Lemme tell ya, it's working.

You know how it starts getting warm and sunny out, and maybe you've just had lunch, and you could really use a nap, but you're at work?

Make your work work for you.

One of the first things I had to get used to as a Westerner living in China was going back to a cash economy. For almost the last ten years in the US, I've made virtually all of my purchases -- supermarket, meals, gifts, etc., and certainly anything bought online -- by credit card. If I wasn't carrying cash and for some reason needed some, there were usually plenty of ATMs at hand to spit $20 bills at me.

China doesn't do credit cards. At least, "local" places don't. Places that cater to expats and tourists -- hotels, fancy restaurants, upscale bars, Western supermarkets and department stores, etc. -- will usually take credit cards. A slightly larger number of medium-to-large enterprises (Chinese chain supermarkets, stores in malls, for example; I'm not sure about the convenience stores) will take a Chinese-bank debit card. The market where I buy my produce? Not a chance. Street food stalls? Ditto. Even most restaurants only take cash. And forget about buying things online -- my understanding is that domestic plane tickets can now be purchased online, but not international ones, and I would wager that most people still visit or call a travel agent or airline ticketing office anyway (as for convenience, though, they will hand-deliver your ticket). I carry my credit card in case of some emergency (though I have no idea what could occur for which it would actually come in handy), but I haven't used it in months.

There is, however, one form of plastic payment that is very common over here: the transportation card. These are popular in US (and European) cities as well, but on this side of the ocean they've gained added versatility. The worldwide standard is, as in DC and Singapore (top card in the photo), good for the subway and buses, but as far as I know, that's about it.

In Shanghai, the "traffic card," as it's known here (red Year of the Pig card shown, but there are oodles of designs from which to choose), can be used not only for subway and buses, but also for taxis. That's pretty handy. I once exited a DC cab two blocks early despite being sick to my stomach and ready to pass out (food poisoning, thank you!), all because I didn't have enough cash to cross the zone line to get to my apartment. That's also a reputedly no-longer existent zone issue, but (a) this isn't a DC blog, and (b) all I'm saying is that a stored fare would have been very useful that day.

In Hong Kong, the Oyster card (middle) will not only get you a ride on a bus, subway, trolley, light rail, or ferry (though sadly, not cab), but you can also use it at supermarkets, convenience stores, phone booths (do they still have those?), parking meters, parking garages, and fast food joints. Now, I'm not entirely sure, but if the Hong Kong system is like Shanghai's, you could actually check all of the transactions -- a parent's dream come true! "Mom, I need more money on my Oyster card. I had to take more buses this week." "Oh really...? Should I check on that?" "Um...no..."