Terminally hip stone gates

As hú​tòngs 胡同 are to Běi​jīng 北京, so shí​kù​mén 石库门 are to Shàng​hǎi 上海. Or perhaps I should say "were", for when it comes to Shanghai's traditional architectural style, genuine examples are apparently getting harder and harder to find in China's ongoing rush to knock old things down and put up new stuff in their place. The future of old buildings in Shanghai (if not for all of China) may depend on the success of developments such as the place we visited today, Xīn​tiān​dì 新天地. In Xintiandi, shikumen have been renovated, rebuilt and redeveloped into a pedestrian-only shopping zone full of expensive restaurants and designer boutiques. This particular development appears to be a smashing success, but it's still too early to tell what effect Chinese-style gentrification will have on the country's urban landscape. For a family such as ours, Xintiandi makes for an enjoyable, if somewhat pricey, weekend excursion.

Our Sunday outing began in Xintiandi's less impressive South Block, which is dominated by a modern shopping mall. Inside, we had an early lunch at a Chinese/Western fusion restaurant called Michael. As in the given name only, and without a possessive.

We didn't spend much time in this part of Xintiandi other than to eat. Here, Amber poses at the end of the South Block, before we walked under the arch and across a small street into the more atmospheric North Block.

But not before stopping in at the local post office, where my daughter had a postcard made with her photo resembling a postage stamp. It was immediately mailed to a certain grandparent back in the U.S.

Though primarily aimed at shoppers, Xintiandi does boast a couple of sightseeing attractions. One is the Site of the First National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party 中国一大会址纪念馆. It was in the building above that the first meeting of the CCP took place on July 23, 1921. Inside are photographic exhibitions on the history of the party and a few relics from Shanghai's days as an International Settlement, while upstairs there's a diorama consisting of wax figures of the delegates at their historic get-together, all tied together with the kind of Communist propaganda (numerous references to the proletariat and bourgeoisie) that you seldom see or hear these days in the era of Socialism with Chinese Characteristics. It's too bad photography wasn't permitted.

Shanghai played an important role in the early history of the Chinese Communist Party. The communists were very active in the city throughout the 1920's, until Chiang Kai-shek  将介石 and the ruling Kuomintang 国民党 one day in 1927 decided to arm the city's gangsters with guns and KMT uniforms. The resulting massacre drove the party underground, while the decapitation of the party's leadership helped Máo​ Zé​dōng 毛泽东 in his quest to take over the CCP. Mao, in turn, would eventually abandon the party's urban campaigns and instead focus his attention on building a base of support among the oppressed peasantry, which in turn would eventually lead to the Communists' victory in the Chinese Civil War 国共内战. All this has little to do with the souvenir I bought today at the Maoist shrine, and which I probably won't be wearing to work anytime soon.

Xintiandi's other attraction is the Shikumen Open House Museum 石库门民居陈列馆. It was really a pity that photography wasn't allowed here, either, as the museum makes for a worthwhile visit. This reconstruction of an upper-class family shikumen is filled with the kind of everyday objects such a family would have used in the early 20th-century. As a result, the displays are brought to life in a way that more drier (and emptier) museums could never hope to achieve.

You can't prohibit picture-taking on the balcony, even if we are living in an authoritarian state

The North Block does a much better job of incorporating the shikumen architecture. The Häagen-Dazs in the background came in handy as an expensive coffee break when a thunderstorm suddenly rolled through the area.

The side alleys are known in Chinese as lòng​táng 弄堂. They're ideal for standing around in, trying to look cool.

This impressive structure isn't a shikumen. It's the private club of the Hong Kong developers who created Xintiandi. No doubt they stand out on the balcony at times and watch the money come rolling in.

This cafe was located across the street from the entrance to Xintiandi's North Block. The reason I've posted this picture is because of the name. Not "Kafe Laku" - 猫屎咖啡, or māo​shǐ kā​fēi, literally translates as "Cat shit coffee". Fancy a cup of their joe?

The last thing we did this afternoon before heading home was to take a stroll along a street filled with shops selling qí​páo 旗袍. My wife is in the market for one of these traditional Chinese dresses, and hopefully picked up some ideas while we were.

 

Gardening on a Sunday? How Bazaar!

Today was as good a day as any to do the tourist thing, so the three of us spent the morning and much of the afternoon checking out the Yù Gardens 豫园. The gardens were first laid out in the 16th century by a high-ranking court official, and have continued more or less intact into the modern age, even managing to survive the Cultural Revolution 文化大革命 because an anti-imperialist group used them as its headquarters during the colossally bloody and destructive Tàipíng Rebellion 太平天国. Foreign visitors looking for that unsullied-by-Western-influences, superficial "real China" within the city limits of Shànghăi 上海 would do well to pay the Yu Gardens a visit. In fact, many seemed to have done just that today, as I heard tour groups being conducted in German and Spanish, among other languages. But the gardens also appear to be high on the itinerary for domestic tourists as well, and it was no surprise that the place was busy - I was constantly having to step around people taking pictures. Nevertheless, except for minor annoyances such as the lack of maps on the grounds to indicate where particular buildings could be found, a visit to Yu Gardens and the classic Chinese architecture and landscaping within, should be high on anyone's list of places to see in Shanghai. 

I apologize for the lack of clarity and quality of the photographs below. In my defense, today was overcast (and humid, though that had nothing to do with the poor colors):

Almost as soon as you enter the gardens, the first hall directly in front of you leads to an impressive view of a rockery. Be prepared to be patient while waiting for a good spot to view the scene to become available.

Looking back toward that first hall

Numerous ponds filled with goldfish and turtles were placed throughout the gardens, giving the center of Shanghai that classical Chinese touch.

The inside of one of the few halls the name of which I was able to take note of. The Hall of Heralding Spring 点春堂 was the headquarters for the Small Swords Society 小刀会, a revolutionary group that controlled Shanghai during the aforementioned Taiping Rebellion, much to the admiration of the Red Guards 红卫兵 in the 1960's.

This stage sitting directly across the Hall of Heralding Spring dates from 1888

I took this shot of the above-mentioned hall (L) and stage (R) because in the background could be glimpsed a view of the Shanghai Tower 上海中心大厦. When completed next year, the building will stand 632 meters (2073 feet) tall and will be the second-highest in the world.

Despite the Sunday hordes, it wasn't difficult to admire the beauty of the landscaping

My normally camera-adverse wife allowed herself to be photographed several times today.

Another minor quibble I had with Yu Gardens was over the number of so-called "exhibitions" that turned out to be plain old souvenir shops. At least one gallery, however, turned out to be the genuine article.

I've never been able to understand why the Chinese love to put sculptures like this one in the middle of rooms. Pamela couldn't explain it, either.

This impressive stage was the centerpiece of a large courtyard

One final shot before exiting the Yu Gardens. Surrounding them is an area known as Yùyuán Bazaar 豫园商城, filled with souvenir shops, restaurants, touts...and people.

The mammoth buildings of the Yuyuan Bazaar look stereotypically Chinese, but they're all modern structures, giving the area a Disneyesque air. The one above was filled with four floors of souvenirs. Welcome to Socialism with Chinese Characteristics.

Pictured above is the Húxīn Tíng Teahouse 湖心亭茶馆, Shanghai's No. 1 teahouse, at least according to the yellow banner hanging from the side of the building. Queen Elizabeth and Bill Clinton are among the foreign dignitaries who have relaxed for a cuppa here, which explains why we had to fight through the throngs to get across the zigzagging bridge.

Another view of the Huxin Ting Teahouse, taken from the second floor of the restaurant where had lunch. This gives you a better idea of the crowd.

Our lunch. Because we chose not to eat at one of the "famous" dumpling restaurants, we didn't need to wait in a ridiculously long line to get inside.

"People mountain, people sea" 人山人海

Yuyuan Bazaar was filled with the kind of businesses guaranteed to annoy the crap out of those Western tourists seeking an "authentic Asian (or Chinese, in this case) experience" - Dairy Queen, KFC, McDonald's and Starbucks all have outlets there. My Taiwan-based and Taiwanese friends and acquaintances might be surprised to note the presence of Kobayashi 小林, which sells "bell-shaped Japanese pancakes", as one blog puts it. 

When in Rome, do as the Romans. When in Yuyuan Bazaar, buy souvenirs. I purchased a name chop with my Chinese name engraved on it, while the girls picked up a couple of decorative fans with which to keep themselves cool.

Oh, the humanity

Break time. This "Taiwan Special Snack" started off well, but soon became too oily to finish. At least the milk tea went down without any problems.

Just the small matter of finding your way out and back to the Metro station before you can declare this day successfully closed.

The unbearable heaviness of shopping

My daughter inside Xujiahui Metro station  徐家汇站

Shopping observation #1: Shopping in China isn't a pleasurable experience

My wife's computer went kaput last week, so it's time to go shopping for a new one. This morning we got up relatively early and headed out to the Pacific Digital Plaza 太平洋数码广场, a large electronics mart similar to NOVA in Taichung 台中 and conveniently located just in front of the above-mentioned Xujiahui Metro station. We weren't there long: the sales clerks were extremely aggressive. If you so much as even glanced at a particular item, a salesperson would immediately be all over you, extolling the virtues of that particular product. One man even followed us up the escalator from the first to the second floor, haranguing Pamela despite her protests that she was only there to "look for somebody" (a feeble lie born out of desperation), and then turning his attention to me despite my insistence that I didn't need whatever brochures he was trying to give out. It's times like these I wish I weren't a diplomat.

Shopping observation #2: Shopping with my Significant Other isn't a pleasurable experience

Fleeing the Pacific Digital Plaza, the three of us escaped into the relative sanity of Metro City 美罗城, located next door (and pictured above).  This place was more akin to an American-style shopping mall, but it had one floor devoted to electronics, with much less aggressive staff than their pushy rivals next door. It was here that my normally level-headed Dr. Jekyll of a spouse underwent her shopping transformation into a fixated Ms. Hyde. For my beloved has a tendency at times to get attached to either an idea or a product, and no appeals to logic or reason can stop her from getting something once she decides that she needs (read wants) it. In this case, rather than walking around the floor of Metro City and checking out the various shops, she made a beeline for an outlet of a particular Taiwanese hardware manufacturer. Rather than having a look at all the models on display, she drew the salesperson's attention to just one. And rather than getting all the relevant information from the staff, and then going home and doing some research online to see if she could get the same model cheaper and with a more expansive warranty (as opposed to one covering only China), my Cosmic Soul Mate decided she couldn't wait any longer and that she had to get it now. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.

So it looks like I'll need to cash another check this week in order to have enough money for incidentals like food. And my wife is still going to have to wait several days for the computer to be delivered to our home. 

Amber enjoys a custard taiyaki 鯛焼き at Metro City

Despite the tone of the preceding paragraphs, today was actually a pleasurable one for the most part. Amber and I went to a pool party in the afternoon at a nearby housing compound, and then the three of us had dinner at a seafood restaurant just around the corner from where we live. Afterward, we took a walk around the neighborhood and discovered a number of small eateries that look deserving of visits in the near future. 

And for once the temperature today didn't exceed 40°C (104°F). It was more like the usual 35°C (95°F). Shanghai 上海 has had 42 days (not including today) this summer where the temperature has been 35°C or higher, the majority of them coming after we arrived early last month. This evening felt relatively cooler, however, and the temperatures are forecast to drop below 35 beginning Monday. Now if only something could be done about the humidity...

A friendly feline at the local wet market 街市

Our dinner this evening. In case you're wondering, yes, that dish in the upper right of the photo is stinky tofu 臭豆腐. Pamela loves it, while Amber and I can't stand either the smell and the taste. Still, seeing as this was the first time to have it in China, and noticing that it differed somewhat in appearance from the stinky tofu usually found in Taiwan, I thought I'd be open-minded and give it a try.

The verdict

Civic boosterism, Shanghai style

I have to say that things have been going pretty well recently (cue the sound of knocking on wood). Though I'm still slow compared to the veteran officers, and I persist in asking them a lot of annoying questions (which they're graceful enough to answer politely), I'm starting to get used to doing visa interviews, even if my Chinese interviewing continue to be sorely lacking. I'm enjoying the work so far, and every day is different enough that I don't see it becoming a routine, at least not yet. The heat wave is even showing signs of abating, though this means that temperatures are only likely to be around 35°C (95°F), instead of the 40°C-plus (104°F) weather we've been having the past couple of weeks. But the best news of all is that my wife and daughter have returned to Shanghai 上海 after having spent the past three weeks visiting family and friends in Taiwan, and I couldn't be more happier to see them again.

Today was the first time in more than a month that the three of us went out exploring in Shanghai. Our destination was the Shanghai Urban Planning Exhibition Hall 城市规划展示馆, conveniently accessed from the People's Square Metro station  人民广场站. The first order of business, however, was to find a place to have lunch and fast, as after just a few minutes of wandering around outside, the three of us were drenched in sweat from the humidity. Pamela soon spied a cheap noodle restaurant (which was air-conditioned, thank god), and I quickly wolfed down a bowl of something:

Suitably fortified, we ventured back outside (and underground)...

The Shanghai Urban Planning Exhibition Hall as seen on the opposite side of Xizang Zhong Road 西藏中路.

Amber poses in the "Old Shanghai" street located in the basement under the exhibition hall. Full of the kinds of food stands and shops that didn't exist in Shanghai in the 1930's, the only reason to linger there was to take advantage of the air conditioning.

The lobby of the Shanghai Urban Planning Exhibition Hall

The purpose of the exhibition hall is to impress upon the citizenry of Shanghai their leaders' grandiose plans to turn the city into a modern metropolis. But before being wowed by the future on the upper stories, the second floor had an impressive collection of photographs of the city as it once was.

The centerpiece of the exhibition hall was on the third floor - a huge model of what Shanghai is going (supposed) to look like by the year 2020, with day (top) and night (bottom) views. China may be pursuing capitalism for all intents and purposes, but its socialist characteristics were still apparent in this grand vision of the future. It'll be a city filled with utilitarian apartment blocks, devoid of anything old or traditional other than what will be preserved in designated, tourist-friendly zones. Diplomacy prevents me from commenting further.

Adjacent to the tennis court-sized floor plan was a small room giving a 360° virtual helicopter ride of this brave new world. I had to admit it was fun.

The rest of the exhibition hall was filled with uninteresting displays consisting of the usual propaganda of how the Chinese Communist Party has improved the lives of the people of Shanghai since Liberation, and will continue doing so into the foreseeable future. The top floor, at least, had good views of the Shanghai Museum 上海博物馆 (which I visited a couple of weeks ago) on one side, and of Renmin Park 人民公园 (which we'll visit at some point in the future) on the other. The entry price wasn't too bad (30 RMB/$4.90 for adults, 15 RMB/$2.45 for kids), especially considering we were able to escape the stifling heat and humidity for a couple of hours.

We could've continued exploring the area along Renmin Dadao 人民大道, but She Who Must Be Obeyed decreed that today merited a visit to Shanghai's main branch of IKEA, and so we went. It was that quintessential weekend Chinese shopping experience - meaning that only a fool who would do so on a Saturday, Sunday or a national holiday. Even my wife couldn't take the crowds, eventually conceding that she would be better off returning on a weekday, when she could take her time checking out the merchandise in an atmosphere of (relative) calm.

We rode the Metro back to our local station, but before returning home, we walked over to an area called Laowaijie 老外街 to search for a place to have dinner. Laowai means "foreigner", while jie refers to a "street" - Laowaijie is a pedestrian-only stretch of road filled with Western-style restaurants and bars, and is thus popular with the local expatriate population (of which there are many in our area). The food street's presence is denoted with one of those brown-colored tourism signs, which gives you an idea of how the Chinese view this place. We ended up eating at one of the few Chinese restaurants on Laowaijie, a place called Amy's Restaurant. It was here that I enjoyed one aspect of life in Shanghai that is much better than what I found in Taiwan - the availability of locally produced craft beer. The city has quite a number of brewpubs and microbreweries, and I enjoyed a couple of cans of the Made-in-Shanghai suds pictured above.

The "Shanghai Sichuan 四川" food at Amy's wasn't bad, either, including this dish of duck meant to be rolled in a tortilla-like flatbread . The bill came to 226 RMB ($37), including three beers - a little expensive by local standards, but cheaper than what you might pay at similar places back in the U.S. 

Amber poses on Laowaijie outside Amy's after dinner. I can't begin to tell you how happy I am that my little girl is back here with me, so I'll leave it at that now and bid you all 晚安.

The purity of tourism

Look at the photo above, taken this afternoon on Shanghai's 上海 Nanjing Road 南京路, the street on which my workplace is located. You don't need to look too closely to see there are outlets for Gucci and Ralph Lauren, not to mention a Daliesque melting watch statue, all examples of pernicious foreign influences. In fact, the section of Nanjing Road where I work is lined with expensive boutiques selling name-brand Western consumer goods. Why do I consider these a threat, you may ask? I don't, actually. But apparently others do, judging by a recent exchange I've been a part of on Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree forum.

It all started with an innocent-enough post on the Taiwan branch posing the question "Why do backpackers rarely go to Taiwan?". Various suggestions were offered, with my own contribution noting that the majority of Western visitors I encountered while living in Taiwan were there because they had family or friends teaching English on the island, and suggesting that one reason for Taiwan being off the radar of so many backpackers (as well as more well-heeled travelers) might be because the tourism authorities haven't done a very good job promoting Formosa to the non-Chinese speaking world. A mild debate ensued, but in general the tone has been pretty low-key.

For me, however, one comment stood out that needed to be addressed. Let's call the person who made it "Julie_L", because that's the name she used. Julie wrote how she enjoyed visiting Taiwan, and is planning her second trip there, and concluded by noting:

What I do like is to visit countries that haven't been altered by tourism... We all admit that Taiwan does have an image problem. But so did Syria when I went there in 1998, Burma when I visited in 2008, and Ethiopia in 1997. So there is hope for Taiwan yet - things can change! But I will personally be happy if it doesn't change. They're wealthy enough without the extra $$$ that tourism brings, and better off without the countless problems it brings.  

A couple of problems were immediately apparent, like comparing Taiwan with the likes of Syria and Burma. I chose, however, to focus on the ignorance behind the observation that Taiwan has somehow not been altered by tourism. Ever since the government switched to a five-day workweek sometime around 2001/2002 (including the schools), with the private sector following suit, Taiwan's leisure industry has boomed. Deserted, forlorn places such as Sanyi's 三義 Shengxing Train Station 勝興車站 now groan every weekend and national holiday under the weight of the tour buses and the sightseers, and the souvenir stores and snack stands that have sprung up to serve their needs. Throw in the visitors from neighboring countries like Japan and the growing number of Chinese tourists, and relatively well-known sightseeing spots like the National Palace Museum 國立故宮博物院 and Taroko Gorge太鲁阁国家公园  have been, well...altered, as I pointed out in my reply to Julie_L:

Just because Taiwan doesn't attract large numbers of visitors from Western countries doesn't mean the country hasn't been altered by tourism. Taiwan has a thriving domestic tourism industry, in addition to the great number of tourists from other Asian countries, including Japan, South Korea and Singapore. And, of course, there is the growing number of Chinese traveling to Taiwan for sightseeing. Compared to how things were when I made my first visit there in 1999 (and later took up residence), Taiwan has, in fact, been greatly altered by tourism. 

There was another aspect to Julie_L's post that I chose not to comment on, but it's been a while since I've ranted about something on this blog, so here I go. There are two types of Western travelers that bother me. The first I've written about here before: the kind of person who appoints him or herself to be the sole interpreter of their chosen foreign locale to the outside (read Western) world. To do so, they have no choice but to reduce everything to an exotic cliche, because the family and friends back home don't want to hear how the locals in some far off foreign land are just like them. And they get upset when others have different interpretations of the same culture, because the country's only big enough for one interpreter. 

The other traveler I don't think I've mentioned before, but I'm sure you're familiar with the type - they're the ones who travel to less-developed lands and become upset when they discover the locals are driving cars, watching satellite TV and using air conditioners and refrigerators in their homes. Their once-idyllic, poverty-stricken lives have become more comfortable as their standards of living have increased, but this bothers certain travelers like our Australian friend Julie (as she identified herself on her profile), who seem to have been hoping to witness poverty and shortened lifespans. So they go on and on about how Western influences are "ruining" traditional societies, and look for poorer countries to get their voyeuristic thrills (and always with the comforting thought that home in their OECD country is just a plane ride away). Nonetheless, I chose not to address this in the reply I posted on Thorn Tree.

Julie's reply only seemed to confirm my initial thoughts:

...OK, how's this "What I do like is to visit countries that haven't been altered by 'Western' tourism."

To which I retorted:

...What difference does it make whether a place has been altered by tourists from Western countries or by tourists from non-Western countries? Isn't the fact that it has been altered in the first place enough?

At this point, someone else chimed in and observed that in Thailand, the influence of Western visitors was very apparent in the form of "beer bars,pizza places etc etc.", and noting that probably wouldn't be the case if the only tourists were those from China. I've yet to go to Thailand, but from what I've seen and heard, I can imagine all the negative effects from mass-market Western tourism have had on Thailand's popular tourist spots, and I can sympathize with the disappointment some travelers may feel. Still, as I pointed out in my reply:

It has only been in recent years that significant numbers of tourists from other Asian countries, in particular China, have been venturing into neighboring countries, so the effect isn't as obvious yet. Also, Northeast Asian visitors often travel in large groups and tend to stay together in certain hotels and resorts, and as a result have less interaction with local businesses compared to Western tourists. 

On the other hand, if you visit Hawaii, Guam or Saipan, the influence of Asian tourism (Japanese, Korean and Chinese) is probably very evident. 

At this point, our friend Julie_L decided to show her true colors, so to speak:

...you are very pedantic, and I can see that everything I say will be 'picked apart' by you. However, let me put this simply for you ...

I am a white person. I am not Asian. When I visit Asia, I like to visit Asia. I do not like to visit Pizza Hut and McDonald's or Disneyland. I cannot tell whether the people at attractions in Taiwan are from Taiwan or mainland China. All I know is that the people enjoying the attractions are from nearby geographically and are mostly ethnically Chinese. And they are enjoying the place just like I am. And they have not westernised it. They may have modernised it, but the influence is reasonably local.

OK, I admit I can be very pedantic at times, but Julie's words need to be "picked apart". In Julie's view, East is East and West is West...you know the rest. Basically, when Julie travels to Asia, she wants a culturally pure experience - no McDonalds or Disneyland etc - despite the fact these so-called symbols of "Westernization" have been accepted into the local cultures much in the same way that sushi restaurants and Chinatowns are part of the landscape in most Western cities. Julie can't distinguish one Asian from another, but that doesn't matter - as long as they aren't white or trying to "act white", Julie can enjoy her exotic Asian adventure.

I'm reminded of something I used to experience quite often while living in Japan and Taiwan - the "gaijin stare". I'm referring to those times when walking down a street, you encounter another Westerner approaching in the opposite direction. Some people would acknowledge your presence, while others would ignore you, but there was always a certain kind of person who would cast a cold, hard glance in your direction, a look that seemed to say "How dare you intrude upon my exotic, foreign experience!" Julie_L strikes me as one of those people. I was tempted to write back and ask her how she felt about Asians wearing blue jeans, or listening to Lady Gaga, or playing baseball or basketball, or if traveling in Australia she avoids sushi bars, but someone else replied to her last post very quickly. 

Actually, said person left two comments basically pointing out how ridiculous her observations were. To wit:

Cultures have always exchanged ideas and occasionally they keep one...

It seems kind of odd to declare that one set of cultural exchanges is "good" and the other set is "bad," based on whether they came from East or West. Perhaps Western countries should adopt a moratorium on adopting anything from the East. Of course then we'd be left without black pepper, paper money, fuel efficient vehicles etc. etc.. 

"Westernizing" the East does not ruin it, and neither does "Easternizing" the West. Most travelers enjoy cultural exchange...

By that logic when Asian people travel to the US their trip is partially ruined by the fact that we have adopted parts of Asian culture.

So unless Julie_L posts another comment directly addressed to something I've said, I'm basically done with this thread. 

If I were feeling pedantic, however, I might post something like this:

In the area where I work in Shanghai, there is an Isetan department store, a Family Mart convenience store, a Yoshinoya beef bowl restaurant, a Curry House Coco and a Uniqlo clothing outlet. All of these businesses are Japanese. I was wondering, Julie_L, what you would make of this situation. After all, they are hardly traditional parts of Chinese culture, yet they're not exactly "Western", either. Is the fact that these shops come from another Asian country and not from "the West" what you mean when you wrote earlier about "the local influence of modernization"?