One street, two women

It's past sunset, on the ground floor of Rainbow City Mall.

Through the glass wall of the beauty parlour, I spot a young woman, relaxing on the seat. The otherwise quiet rows of nail polish now host a busy scene. Two girls squat at the young woman's feet, brushing up her toes. One girl sits by her hand, doing a manicure. One girl stands at her head, applying fake eyelashes. The centre of the picture is her little dog, not bigger than a kitten. It sits at her lap, it's curls and bows all neat and tidy.


6 hours earlier, two minutes away.

It's lunch time, and the construction site has opened its gates for the workers to get some noodles or dumplings outside in the street. Men covered in dust and cement flood the area. Their blue and yellow helmets creating a uniform impression. Sounds of their work have reached us since 6am. Until deep in the night will we see the light flashes of them welding. But I look again, one of them is a woman. The sheer strength she must have!

Wanna play?

One of my favorite childhood reads was 'Pietje Bell' whose father always told him: Don't come back home until you have at least one hole in your trousers, or a bruise or blue eye.

(or so I remember)

Every since Nelson can walk I take him outside to play after dinner, before bedtime. There's a whole clan of neighbours doing the same with their children or more often: grand children, and over the months we've all been studying each other in depth.

I go by the idea that Nelson will learn by doing, and especially by making mistakes. So falling down the stairs of the slide, trying to climb back onto the slide 101 times without success. Tripping over his clumsy self and picking himself back up again in his own time. Etc.

Picture this group of people at the playground, parading around their babies in strollers or simply carrying them in their arms. But more important the 'gege's (older brothers) and 'jiejie's' (older sisters) who can also walk. They take a step, their caretaker takes one. They dive under the slide, their caretaker holds his hand in between slide and head. They make noise, the caretaker hisses. They don't want to share toys, they're forced to share. A little towel to wipe their foreheads at hand, another little towel permanently stuck in their neck to absorb sweat. The little princess falls over her feet and is immediately pulled back up. The little emperor makes his way to the stairs and his mother jumps up to pull him back. Too dangerous!


Easy to imagine the rift. We're playing just fine by the bushes when the clan decides there's too many mosquito's. 'We need to go!' There's a overly cute baby cat that just demands to be cuddled. Nelson takes a few steps in the direction and is pulled back by a concerned lady. No! And I just smile, and say yes, and we stay playing in the swarm of mosquitos and we do stroke the baby cat, just as we feel like.

'Tamen' means 'they'. It's the word that I understand best from the clan discussions that are then raised. They do it differently. It's better, some of the English speaking parents have told me. We Chinese are too concerned. But most think I'm just crazy. 'Tamen' foreigners who don't care about their sprout. She may need some help, let me just go ahead and tell the boy what to do...

Just a few more months before the kids will start to tell each other what is good and what is bad. Until then, I'm playing Pietje Bell's father and we don't go back inside until we're all wet from fetching fishes in the pond, or all bruised from running in the laurel maze.

'Our' market

If I get up early enough, there's the delight of finding a market in our street. A market of almost anything imaginable. Buyers and sellers almost all retired, professional (window) shoppers and bargainers.

I love the ones selling things like this:

Others sell more antique, or jewellery, there's a lady with knitting stuff, a guy with bamboo things, a guy who sells bicycle saddles, leggings, underwear, just anything. This guy sells some type of liquor:

A little further down is where the wet market starts. It lasts all day, no need to get up early for this one.. 

Something I will not stop to wonder about: why are strawberries sold in baskets? In our market, in the supermarket, at the metro station, everywhere I see them, they come in baskets. And it's not just the strawberries. There seems to be a certain way to present products for many things. A this is how we do it way. Makes me feel uncomfortable always. Where's the diversity? 

Delicious, cheap and fresh: tofu, or doufu, in all it's variety. And some seaweed and sprouts. (these too: always sold at the same shop). 

And some veggies for todays lunch. A heaven for the eyes...  

Winter in Shanghai

It is winter in Shanghai, and all around us people are drying fish and meat on their washing lines, and making sausages for later consumption.