‘I’d rather cry in a BMW than laugh on a bicycle.’

My very first friend in Shanghai, Vicky, taught me to say: ‘I’d rather cry in a BMW than laugh on a bicycle.’ Apparently it was said by a girl on a dating show to an unemployed contender who asked her to ride with him on his bike in 2010.

As Palmer explains in his article on Chinese youth, the preference to cry in a BMW can be used to explain China's society both in its favour and against it. Personally I think it is one of the ugliest aspects of contemporary Chinese life. And it goes hand in hand with the lack of religion and the vacuum that has created. Because every society needs values, needs 'Sunday' activities, needs reasons for and ways of celebration to flourish.

Religion is almost non-existing in todays Shanghai unless you regard 'money' as a god, then all of a sudden the city is filled to the brim with devotees. If 'money' is the upper god in this religion, then 'real estate', 'big cars', 'gold' and 'LV handbags' are in the slightly lower ranks.

Values are the likes of 'foreign' is better than local, owning is better than sharing. 'Sunday' activities include shopping, lots of time online for more shopping. Celebrations look like 40% discount on clothes (women's day), 30% discount on toys (children's day), or everything on discount (single's day on November 11). When people will go home to pay respect to the dead next weekend, they will burn not only the traditional paper money, but paper iPhones, and paper houses as well.

Money god has many temples: shopping malls, housing estates, banks and karaoke bars. All worshippers are invited to these temples (enjoy the cold/heat of the airco in the mall, sit on comfy sofas at IKEA) but its high priests have some outstanding features:

• Buick or BMW with a driver parked outside on the curb. Or, self driven Porsche parked halfway on the curb (because driving skills are hard to buy).  
• iPhone 6 (or two) 
• Tiny dog in LV bag, LV bag, golden necklace, too high heels for the occasion
• Big eyes, white skin, toneless arms and legs for lack of exercise, impeccable black hair
• Seldom a smile

To get back to the saying about the BMW versus the bike, there are roughly two types of people who still bike as a means of transport in Shanghai, (remember the song 'nine million bicycles in Beijing'? That's no longer a fact, mrs Katie Melua..) it is the really poor buggers, who cannot even afford an electric bike, or the bus, or the metro. And, the foreigners and overseas Chinese, who cannot shake off their habits. 

Are these bikers unhappy? Or are they laughing despite the general wisdom that a bike is never a BMW? On many days it is hard to tell as more and more bikers are wearing PM2.5 masks to protect them from smog and exhaust fumes. But on days like today, when AQI is pretty ok, and people go out unprotected, few people are laughing. 

It remains one of the unresolved mysteries of Shanghai for me, why it is hard to find people looking happy, looking relaxt. Both high priests in their imported Porsches and the poor bastards who are only marginally surviving, but also the hard working middle class: neither of them seems to enjoy life much. Or at least not so in public.

(All pictures stolen from the www: citilab.com, viiphoto.com, luxuo.com)

The things I cannot say (yet)

9.10 am

The sink leaks, and I've arranged for the property manager's guys to come have a look. The guy in question misses quite a few teeth, speaks a language of his own, and the first thing he always says when he comes is: "ah, it's not broken!" So it's the same again today, he observes how we've fixed it with a plastic wrapper, sees it's not leaking right now, and makes to leave. 

The thing I cannot say: "you listen to me here, I call you to fix something for me, I will pay you double because I don't know the real price, I give you business, you just fix it NOW. Broken or not, what do you care?" 

10.04 am

Three people waiting for the elevator. One of them is moving some stuff upstairs. He carries a big bag with things. When the elevator comes, the bag falls over, all the stuff falls out. While bag and elevator move upstairs, the guy is busy picking up his things. Two other people just check their phones and wait for the other elevator. 

The thing I cannot say: "hey, let's just give him a hand, shall we?" 

2.32 pm

It's a nice day and the one place in the park where it's allowed to walk on the grass is covered with little tents. Families have made themselves comfortable for the day with food, music and drinks. A few groups of musicians are practising their repertoires and different singers have a try at singing a song with improvised microphones. It's loud, the speakers are not good, and on top of that, the music itself is out of tune, and not out of rythm. We're hundreds of people on a square kilometer of green and my head goes spinning. 

The thing I cannot say: "Sing, sing as much as you like, every moment of the day, bring your friends, make music together, enjoy the fresh breeze of the park while you do it. Just PLEASE don't use the mic. Don't you all agree, everyone? Don't we all come here for our peace and quiet? Isn't it enough to have the children's corner blaring songs into the park, and the four big roads around the park busy with traffic, and all the children and their parents shouting at each other? Isn't a harmonious society what we're all after?" 

2.45 pm

We cycle home from the park, manoeuvring between cars and carts, scooters and buses. Cycling is a trade off between enjoying the effort and freedom, and suffering from the fumes, the smog, the chaos and last but not least the noise. We patiently wait for the green light, and as I start to make my way, a taxi cuts me off, honks honks HONKS all the way, pushes my stress levels up to 100 and 

Yet the thing I cannot say: "Stupid. CAN'T YOU SEE MY BABY..? 

One day I'll be able to say all of this. 

In Chinese. 

Singing praise

This week was one of holidays, first the National Day on Tuesday, and afterwards the Golden week with Moon Festival on Thursday. The city was decorated with red flags and lanterns. Many people had traveled, the streets were quiet but we heard about record numbers of visitors to the Forbidden City (182,000 in a day!), and many other tourist destinations. A good time for us to be at home and discover some new sites around where we live.

Singing in Luxun Park

As we strolled through Luxun park today we came across a big group of people singing, clapping, happily spending time together. To understand why we were drawn to the sight you need to know one thing first: (many) residents of Shanghai live by the motto'me first'. There's a big lack of social cohesion. Family ties are very very important, but besides that nothing seems to bind people together. Traffic is an example of everyone trying to be first. No way someone will wait for me to cross the pedestrian crossing with a baby. More likely they'll honk and nearly drive into you. I could write another blog post about examples on this topic. Many reasons and ideas exist about the why and how of this lack of cohesion. No religions is one, a reaction to socialism is another.

In Luxun Park

This being said, back to the park, and the group of singing people. Many with songbooks, mics, music instruments, taking it very seriously. We wondered, were these Christians? The music sounded like psalms. People knew the lyrics by heart, and the sharing spirit made me feel as if in church. We lingered a little longer, surprised, enjoying.

On our way out, someone caught up with us. His own singing is no very good, he said, but he like listen. They sing high of Mao Zedong, they sing praise, he explained. They are happy, it is nice. We had more questions than he had answers, but at least now we had something to speculate for the remaining walk. Was that nostalgia that we just experienced? Or were they singing praise of the communist party of today? Why? How?

Chineseposters.net

Shaking the tree - some more urban farming

Two women were harvesting from the Ginko trees along Siping Road yesterday, beating the branches with a long bamboo pole and gathering the little yellow seeds in bags.

Ginko Biloba is China's national tree, and has a special meaning in Buddhism and Confucianism. The nuts are used by some as an aphrodisiac and in a veggie dish called 'Buddhas delight'.

Earlier this year I saw women cutting off the leaves which are believed to enhance memory and improve the blood flow.

Harvest time in Hong Kou

When I first came to Shanghai I saw a poster advertising an urban farming workshop organised by GoodtoChina. It felt like a little miracle, and proof that there must be like-minded people in this ocean of concrete towers, vehicles and lcd screens. I knew that even if I hadn't met them yet, all I have to do is keep my eyes open for the signs. We'll soon meet, I thought.

Months later I've indeed met with the familiar looking scene of guys on fixies, girls drinking fair trade latte with organic milk, the cultural creatives with their black glasses who recharge their batteries on a roof garden in the city center, weeding sunflowers and planting carrots. Urban farming is a trend worldwide, and Shanghai cannot stay behind.

But of course, the practise of urban farming wasn't invented during a creative brainstorm session at a marketing agency. It might be a trend for some, it's a tradition for many others. Strolling around our neighbourhood, we see the seasons change from the fruits that are sold from pick-up trucks (water melons, pomelo's, bitter melons, tangerines) but also from the little gardens everywhere. No space too small to plant a little seed in springtime, and find a huge harvest in autumn.

Zucchini's going wild

Drying little zucchini's

Everyone seems to have a pepper plant 

Seedlings in improvised spaces

Babylympics

Believe it or not, Nelson is joining the babylympics this year. His aim? Gold in crawling.

Intrinsically motivated little guy that he is, he has designed his own training schedule:

5.am hello coach! warming up on the bed
5.30 milk
6.30 some practice on the yoga mat
7.30 big bowl of porridge
8.am some games, practice of the lungs and a nap

After waking up, the schedule repeats itself until evening.

To qualify, he has to pass different tests: push ups, standing on hands and feet, standing on hands and knees, and of course: crawling itself. As his coach on the sideline, I think it won't be long before he gets there. Babylympics here we come!

ps

Impossible to write the Shanghai audiotour and forget to mention firecrackers. After all firecrackers and fireworks originate in China and boy are they still around! Even though I read that firecrackers have been banned from urban areas, there's at least one 5 minute explosion every day within earshot. Firecrackers celebrate special days, openings, weddings and Saturdays are favorite. The echo of 32-story buildings adds a modern flavor to the tradition.

Firecrackers laid out

Scorching heat

Temperatures are soaring high, over 35 degrees for the past ten days. Everyone with AC closes doors and windows and stays in, enjoying the chill. It's only from 8pm that the streets are full with people catching some fresh air. Heavy thunderstorms light the skies almost every night, taking some of the heaviness away, for a short while.

Walking around town, the typical sight of drying laundry is no longer exceptional as it was during the few dry days of Spring. Instead, blankets, woolen sweaters, and even underwear are now dried everywhere, all the time. On bamboo poles, on washing lines in the street, on top of bushes: laundry is an intrinsic part of Shanghai's culture.

hair do

After almost four  months of deprivation, sobriety and longing things are finally changing here. We feel at home !

The ground floor of our compound has a row of shops that were empty until now. This week was the festive opening of some new stores. A health shop, a second hand furniture store, something undefined, a car wash but more interesting: closest to our entrance on one hand a cigaret and liquor store, and on the other, a barber shop.

There are many many barber shops around town. Chinese have the most crazy hair do's. I never stop to be surprised by the creativity of the barbers. But. For a small surcharge there's a special extra service. At the back of the shop it's possible to have the barber zoom in on your pubic hair a bit more. It's a scalp massage taken to the next level.

With the cozy red light shining on the legs of miss barber, it's as if we never left Amsterdam.

Not quite fat

There's much talk about the issue of obesity, but all I see are the young & pretty girls that Shanghai is so famous for. So I decided to keep my eyes open and count. Back and forth to my lunch date yesterday I saw 3 overweight girls. Quite excited with my new interest I walked back home, determined to share the first data of this little research. Until I saw this girl doing her balancing act and totally forgot about it all.

NB, now that the hot season has started, there's much complain of girls on public transport about guys who ejaculate on their bare legs during rush hour (yuk)

NNB, somehow somewhere these girls transform into women. I see them everyday in the showers at the gym. The shape gone, the frock gone, the long hair cut short, the high heels swapped for Crocs.

Fashion tip for the weekend...

Wear your pajamas with high heels. Extremely comfy and yet smart looking. 

(one explanation for this phenomenon: it shows that you have enough money for a spare set of clothes)

In transition

First thing this morning is a razzia at a nearby restaurant. Twenty city guards block the road, an even larger number of workers tears the facade down, carry the kitchen outside, load it on vans and leave a completely stripped space behind. It's the second time in a week that it happens. The other shops have been empty since, leaving the owners looking rather devastated.

Apparently its an omen, a little further down the road where our market used to be, there is only en empty street. This used to be a kilometer of bustling wet market, full of exotic fruits and vegetables, poultry, meat, and to my horror: alive turtles. Completely gone in a day! 

It looks like the final stage of tearing down the original houses in our neighborhood has started. At first sight, all the 3 story buildings here have been demolished and abandoned. But upon closer inspection, they are still very alive. A face appears from a window, hanging his underwear to dry. Elder people sit chatting on their porch, little noodle stands are still selling. At night there are little lights everywhere. In between the ruins people hold on to their homes .

All around us, these old fashioned houses have made room for 32 story high risers. The crowded narrow alleys where everything happens outside make place for modern compounds where a month's rent comes to €750. More people per square kilometer, smart looking, better for the pockets of government. 

There's been a big wave of urban renewal running up to the Expo in 2010. Shanghai has become more accessible for foreigners, has a better look and feel to it, the old and ugly is (almost) gone. 

With an average income of €300 per month, I don't think many of the Shanghainese will be able to afford an apartment like ours. They will be moving further out of town, in search of cheap places to live. It's sad to witness, but perhaps a small price to pay for speedy development. 

For an interesting view on the tearing down of Chinese 'urban villages', read this article by professor Bartlett.

Home

From the day that we landed, I have been working on creating a home for myself here. Perhaps even more true: re-creating my home. I have been scanning the neighborhood for familiar places: a shop for groceries, the gym, the library. I've been scanning the shelves in the supermarket for familiar brands, or if not there: familiar alphabet at least. (I prefer Dove over 巧克力) This all to the point that if I want my Shanghai life can be quite similar to my Amsterdam life. Café latte at Starbucks, pizza extra cheese at Papa John's, hot yoga at the gym, organic body lotion. It's all there.

What else is it that a home consists of? Greeting my neighbors in the elevator, joking with the watchman at the gate, a smile of recognition from my favorite noodle stand guy at lunch time. Those are all important. A girlfriend to discuss the little things of life, the gossip, the burden of motherhood, the different ways of swimming front stroke. A girlfriend who helps with the tackling of incomprehensible Chinese things, like visiting the hospital, changing my phone subscription. They make life easy and warm.

Some things are not so clear. How important is cheese? Is it worth 8 euro for a tiny little piece? Do I want to stick to my buttered brown bread (imported from Germany and New Zealand, you may guess the price) or do I settle for the trendy local bread, made brown with malt syrup and decorated with pork floss? Or rather still buy my lunch in the street for 55 cents?

What makes home home for me is a door to lock when you come home, the freedom to eat pancakes with chopsticks, or noodles with a fork. To come home from the store with something strange, and secretly try if it is meant to be a desert, a drink, a spread, a sauce, or if it doesn't taste good at all. That freedom and safety is what has made our apartment at 588 Tian Bao Lu a homely home so far.

Googling the gym

At a random walk I spot a building that says 'PANYU YOGA & GYM'. It has a big picture of a lush pool on the window. At home I look it up on google maps. Amazing enough, even the little food stalls are listed there: Ma's home cooking, or Fujian Characteristic Qianlixiang Wonton Restaurant. The English translation is a great help. I also find the YOGA & GYM, and what is more, they have a website. Browsing it I find another picture of the pool (jippy!) and with the help of google translate, some information on their philosophy of fitness:

"Fitness, usually encounter two difficulties, one is possessed by the devil, have the opposite effect, the second is to immerse ourselves in hard work half a day, always feel futile and defeat endless."

Next morning I step by to get a membership. It's me and Nelson, and four people behind the desk. Our shared vocabulary is perhaps ten words. 'Cute baby' is two of them. Thanks to the google translate app, we find out that I want to swim and do yoga, they offer 3 months membership for € 120, they are open till 10pm, and there's even an English schedule of all the classes.

In the evening I get my swimming gear together, walk down to the GYM & YOGA again. 'Baby sleep?' asks the manager smilingly. After 15 more minutes of talking with hands, feet and google translate, I have paid, gotten my card, borrowed a swimming cap and a pair of pink slippers size 5, and am in the right dressing room. ('Women dressing room, man stop' says the sign) On the stairs to the pool everyone else is naked. OMG, am I doing it all wrong? But just before the pool is another sign to 'bathing', and mine to 'pool'. Ooff. 

After some refreshing swimming I find my locker back. Wanting to fit in with the local customs I undress, and descent the stairs once again, now naked. To my excitement, 'bathing' has a Finnish sauna. I sit down on my towel and enjoy. Two women come in, step up on the bench and start stretching, massaging themselves, moan and leave. Another girl comes in, does the same. I shower and dry myself with the towel, go back upstairs and find everyone fanning themselves dry with the hairdryers.

On my way out, the smell of Chinese sweat wafts over the rooms with weights and machines. In the yoga rooms, where the last class finished hours ago, a group of women is still chatting. A last blink of the manager, and I'm outside again. Will be back tomorrow! 

(All pictures must have been taken in another era, before there was rust and dirt and shabbiness. But it does give an impression. In reality the pool is star shaped, has neither plants nor windows)

twists in the park

When they're not in their nursing homes, or browsing the digital highway, elderly are often found in the parks. This is one of the many things they do: they dance! With the speakers blasting, they twist & twirl in dusk and dawn. It's Latin dances, waltzes, and self-invented pirouettes. 

Aging is a bit of a problem in China. With the one-child policy coming into effect in the '70's of last century, the expansion of the population has slowed down and shown even negative growth in some areas. Four grandparents, two parents, and only one little emperor to take care of all six of them. It's a heavy burden on the shoulders of the young work force. The current fertility rate in Shanghai is the world's lowest at 0.7, below the level to maintain a healthy population.

One phenomenon related to the aging population are the health shops that you see everywhere. Inside these little shops are lectures about the human body, people getting dialysis, full body check up, etc. And of course, these shops are in the park...

Digital wheelchair

Problem:

In our district, Hong Kou, in the North of Shanghai, only 2 % of the elderly have access to nursing homes. 

Solution:

A digital nursing home. Elderly can go on a website to order a haircut, a meal or health care. It's been tested on a community of 2,000 people, and will now be expanded. 

Question: Do grandchildren then also visit their grandparents online? 

Walk in the park

Parks here are special places. Ours, the Peace Park, is quite big. Still it is always full of people. Every corner of it has its special destination. Some of the activities are a little dark, involving stacks of money. Those are mostly in far away corners, and attended by men only. It will take some more courage from my side to take pictures there. Those I will cover last. 

Expect classical dancing, badminton, Qi Gong, music bands, knitting, reading news papers, kites, electric boats, children's gambling hall, bears, lions & tigers. The best part is that in the corner for music bands, all the bands sit together and play at the same time. And all of them using amplifiers. But that's for later. 

First this woman drawing calligraphy on the tiles with water, and tens of birds singing in their little cages up in the trees and bushes, their owners looking up at them from their benches  (always smoking men). 

Amazing little white blue eyed baby boy in town