The heights of Shanghai

It was only a matter of time.

After the Chinese cities of Harbin 哈尔滨 and Běi​jīng 北京 found themselves in the news recently for their severe air pollution, it was Shàng​hǎi's 上海 turn to be enveloped in smog. While conditions here weren't nearly as bad as they were up north, you could literally both see and taste the air today. Though atmospheric conditions were hardly ideal for outdoor pursuits, they didn't stop us (though in retrospect they should have) from going out for some exercise on the city's one and only "mountain", Shéshān 佘山. It's only a hill just 328 feet (100 meters) in height, but in extremely flat Shanghai, that's high enough. Sheshan is a relatively close drive from our home, but it was obvious today that we should've waited for the kind of clear day (the likes of which we've had many times since arriving in Shanghai in early July) by which the view of the surrounding area could be truly appreciated.

We couldn't see Sheshan through all the haze until we were almost upon it. We eschewed parking in the main lot, and drove around to the western side of the hill to a quieter access point.

From where we parked our car, it was a short walk before we entered a small bamboo forest, which provided us with some much-needed negative ions to combat all those cigarettes we were inhaling today.

The view through the haze. Just enough could be made out through the soup to make a return visit on a clearer day something to mark down on the calendar.

My daughter and I at the top. Unfortunately, the Shanghai Astronomical Museum 上海天文博物馆 turned out to be closed until next month while some kind of renovation work is going on.

Fortunately, the Sheshan Basilica 佘山琞母大殿 was open for business today. Sheshan has been under Catholic control since the 1850's, and this charming church dates from 1935. 

Those visiting the interior weren't particularly observant of the signs admonishing them to keep quiet and to refrain from taking photographs, but then again, neither was I. I knew that Shanghai is China's most "Westernized" city, but so far in my short stay here, I've seen more Catholic churches than either Buddhist or Taoist temples. 

The road leading up to the basilica supposedly represents the Stations of the Cross, and every May local Catholics make the pilgrimage up to the church from the road. Which means that might be a better time to visit. 

Finally, something more indigenous. According to Lonely Planet, the Xiùdàozhě Pagoda  秀道者塔 stands 66 feet (20 meters) high and goes back to the 10th century, a fact which didn't seem to have deterred Chinese visitors from writing graffiti in black ink on the pagoda's base. China...

For a mere 5 RMB (80¢), a family of three could ring the temple bell. My wife, naturally, gave it the hardest of whacks.

Amber wasn't so impressed with the pagoda or the bell. Other things drew her attention.

This view of the Sheshan Basilica from ground-level actually looks clearer after having been cleaned up on the computer than it did in reality.

On the drive back home, the smog became thicker the closer we got to central Shanghai. The traffic also got denser as we crawled along on the G50 expressway. Pictured above is the view along Hóng​qiáo Road 红桥路. Lost in the haze are some high rise buildings.

Dinnertime, including a much-needed IPA to wash down the grime

Going to the zoo, human and otherwise

On a day I had hoped to had gotten away from the urban colossus that is Shàng​hǎi 上海 (for a few hours at least), only to find myself unable to summon the energy to wake everyone up at an early enough hour this morning, we found ourselves instead going to the Shanghai Zoo 上海动物园. As family outings go, the results were somewhat mixed. My daughter had a good time, whereas all the required walking left my wife reeling. My feelings about today fluctuated between fun and frustration, and seeing as this is my blog, it's how I feel that determines the way this blog post will play itself out. 

On the one hand, the Shanghai Zoo has several things going for it. It's close to where we live, just a relatively short walk along Hóng​qiáo Road  红桥路, meaning we didn't have to deal with trying to find a parking space, or with having to ride a crowded subway train. The grounds are expansive, providing the city with some much-needed green grass. And considering it is a zoo in Asia, the animals' enclosures, generally speaking, were much roomier than the uncomfortably cramped conditions I've too often seen in Japan and Taiwan. 

On the other hand, this is a zoo in Asia, or to be more specific, in China. Shanghai Zoo was very busy today, which meant that we had to put up with a lot of pushing and shoving from people trying to get a closer look at the animals (I can't even begin to imagine what the place must be like during national holidays, though the mountains of garbage I saw outside the zoo gates during the week-long National Day holiday earlier this month were probably a good indication). The noise was overwhelming at times, with the constant honking of the electric tour buggies as they passed back and forth replicating the din normally found on Shanghai's streets. There was the uncomfortable sound (our backs were turned) during a snack break of having to listen to a mother physically abuse her young son because he wasn't eating his noodles (and then the sight of watching him throw up what he had eaten as we were walking away). And the Chinese being, well, Chinese, there was the disconcerting sight of people tossing snacks at the animals, despite the signs warning them not to do so, along with additional signboards explaining why it was harmful to the animals (and all to no avail).

The verdict? If you're living in Shanghai and you have young children, you will have to go there at some point during your stay. And because Amber is only seven and we're probably going to be at post for the next two years, no doubt we will be going back. Though I'm sure when the next time comes, Pamela will find a good excuse to stay at home that day.

The view of the large Swan Lake in the center of the zoo, as seen from the small but fun Ferris Wheel (there was also a good view of the nearby Shanghai Hongqiao International Airport 上海红桥国际机场). Later, the three of us rode on a kiddie roller coaster that was also enjoyable, though my wife was somewhat frightened. Not of the ride itself, but because the roller coaster had been made in China.

Based on past experiences at Ueno Zoo 恩師上野動物園 in Tōkyō 東京, Taipei Zoo 臺北市立動物園 (aka 木柵動物園) and Washington, D.C.'s National Zoo, I was expecting Shanghai Zoo's resident pandas to be the center of attention. Instead, the panda pavilion was no more crowded than most of the other exhibits. I'm assuming that, in comparison to animal parks elsewhere in the world, pandas are almost commonplace at Chinese zoos. Or as my wife put it, she would rather see them at the Sì​chuān Giant Panda Sanctuaries 四川大熊猫栖息地 near the city of Chéng​dū 成都.

Mention has already been made of the zoo's grounds, which many visitors used to hold picnics. A number of families set up tents, though it was obvious they weren't going to spend the night there. Picnicking Chinese-style?

One of the cooler design features was in the giraffe house, where it was possible to get up close and personal (or as up close and personal as you can get through a glass partition) with the giraffes during their late afternoon feeding time.

Looks like gorillas might find me more than a little intimidating 

Though I wasn't able to get a shot of the food as it was airborne, you can tell from the photo above that the fellow in black in the bottom left-hand corner had been tossing morsels to the monkey...the monkey perched on the rock right behind the no feeding sign. 

One of the sadder sights of the zoo was seeing the amount of garbage that people had deliberately thrown into the animals' enclosures. Pamela called it the "Shame of China". She doesn't understand why people here do things like this. It's clearly a mainland phenomenon, as I never witnessed such behavior in Taiwan or Hong Kong.

Is it apropos that there is a pet market across the street from the Shanghai Zoo? In any case, you probably wouldn't want to buy a pet from such a place, unless you were hoping to earn Buddhist brownie points by setting the poor creatures free from their miserable existences.

The day ended with dinner, followed by a shopping trip to the local wet market, before making the short walk home. Maybe next weekend we can get ourselves out of bed early enough to get out of town. Or maybe not. Wait and see...

Waterworld

Happy Columbus Day! I'm not going to comment on the political controversy that surrounds this Federal holiday, other than to say I had the day off today, thus making for a three-day weekend, and I'm not complaining. Unfortunately, we weren't able to go away for the weekend as my daughter's Go 围棋 classes, which are usually held on Friday and Saturday afternoons, were moved to this past Saturday and Sunday due to the recent week-long Chinese national holiday centered around their National Day celebrations. And Amber still had to attend her international school today, though I suspect many of the American students will haven taken this day off to spend with their families. And to top it all off, my wife, who is still not clued in to American public holidays, had scheduled both a doctor's appointment and a physical therapy session for today (she pulled a muscle in her back while I was on vacation in Japan and Taiwan late last month). So of the three of us in this family, I was the only one who was free this Monday.

And so I decided to visit one of the Shàng​hǎi 上海 area's old canal towns (and the only one that I'm aware of that is within city limits), Qībǎo 七宝. And if I had thought going on a normal Monday morning, a week after tens, if not hundreds of millions, of Chinese had crowded the nation's premier sightseeing spots, meant Qibao's Old Town area would've been relatively uncrowded, I couldn't have been any more mistaken (unless, of course, Qibao is so insanely packed on weekends that today was a relatively uncrowded day!). 

The canals were scenic (as long as you didn't peer too long at what was floating in the water), but the main reason for visiting Qibao (for local tourists, anyway) was to eat and shop. The authenticity of the buildings is hard to determine, but it didn't seem to matter anyway, as everything has been turned into food stands, knickknack shops or clothing stores. What saves Qibao from being a waste of time is the museums...if you can find them, that is (it helps to know some Chinese characters). 

The first museum I visited was Zhou's Miniature Museum. Zhou is (was?) an artist who was noted for his miniature carvings, such as the small shelves containing small ceramic and/or pottery items, many of which were no bigger than one of my fingernails. 

Most impressive were the pieces of stone that Zhou had inscribed with unbelievably tiny Chinese characters 汉字, some with up to 5000 painstakingly carved into them. 

Another canal scene, with a pagoda off in the distance 

The next museum I visited was the Qibao Shadowgraph Museum. Shadow puppetry is considered an ancient art throughout much of Asia, and the museum offers performances on Wednesday and Sunday afternoons. 

The Cotton Textile Mill was the only museum that had visitors other than myself while I was there (a man and two women). The displays highlighted the different ways textiles were traditionally made in China.

The Cotton Textile Mill also had a re-creation of what a newlywed bride's bedroom would've looked like on her first night in her husband's family's home...

...while the courtyard provided a respite from the hustle and bustle going on outside on the narrow pedestrian-only street. 

My favorite museum was the last one I went into, the Old Trades House. Inside were dioramas of various traditional artisans and craftsmen at work, such as blacksmiths and carpenters. Admission into each of the museums I visited today was only 5 RMB (80¢), except for the miniature carving gallery, which charged 10 RMB.

This Catholic church, completed in 1867 and renovated three times since, was a pleasant surprise. In complete contrast to St. Ignatius Cathedral, there were no admission tickets, ridiculous dress codes or extremely rude guards. Instead, it was a pleasant church with a bright, airy interior and open to visitors (though I was the only one there). In short, it was how a church should be, i.e. accessible like a Taoist temple in Taiwan. There are many reasons to dislike the Catholic Church, but I'm willing to forgive the Shanghai Diocese as long as St. Ignatius turns out to be the exception rather than the rule.

It was lunchtime by the time I'd walked out of the church and back to the Qibao Old Street, but the sheer number of noisy, pushy tourists didn't get my appetite worked up much (even though much of the food on offer did look and smell appetizing), so I waded through the throngs to the opposite end of Qibao and back to the relative peace and quiet of the surrounding neighborhood (I eventually had lunch at a curry restaurant inside a nearby shopping mall). I can only imagine what the weekends must be like! Call it what you like - 人山人海, 很热闹 etc. - I wouldn't want to find out.

For some reason, I can't upload my own YouTube videos to my personal blog. Nor can I insert a video from my desktop. So if you would like to get a flavor of what is was like to try and make your way through the crowd in Qibao, follow this link: Sightseeing in Shanghai on a weekday: Qibai

Catholicism, Shanghai-style? To hell with it!

OK, perhaps the title of this post is somewhat of an overreaction, but it was disappointing this afternoon paying a visit to St. Ignatius Cathedral 徐家汇天主教堂, located in Shàng​hǎi's 上海 Xú​jiā​huì 徐家汇 area. On the surface, the cathedral seemed appealing in three key areas:

1.) History. Xujiahui is the sight of Shanghai's oldest international settlement, with the Jesuits having been here since the 17th century and the cathedral dating from 1910;

2.) Architecture. Red-brick, Gothic-style buildings aren't that commonplace in China;

and 3.) Faith.

(A brief explanation on that last point: although I was baptized into the Church of England when I was a child, I'm not a practicing Anglican, nor a Christian for that matter. My family stopped attending the local Episcopalian church when I was around seven years old over the disgust felt by my mother when the priest ran off with a married member of the congregation, and I haven't been back since, save for the occasional sightseeing visit to a European cathedral. However, I am interested in matters pertaining to religion, and I do enjoy visiting places of worship such as Buddhist and Taoist temples, Shintō shrines 神社 and, yes, Christian churches.)

Unfortunately, visiting St. Ignatius didn't go the way I'd expected. True, it was an impressive building, both on the inside and out. However, things turned annoying right off the bat when we were told we couldn't get in without tickets. Admission was free and the ticket office was nearby, but it just seemed thoroughly pointless. Then it started to get sour when my wife was denied entry, solely on the grounds that the sandals she was wearing lacked a strap on the back. It's that old irony that some churches still don't seem to get, namely that they would refuse Jesus himself admission should he turn up at their doors today just because he wouldn't be properly attired.

In any event, Pamela, who wasn't particularly interested in seeing the church in the first place, said that she didn't mind waiting outside, so Amber and I went in. Photography wasn't allowed inside, which was too bad as the interior was beautiful, but it was a rule I could understand and therefore respected.  The original stained glass windows didn't survive the Cultural Revolution 文化大革命, but the replacements were appealing in their own right:

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Saint-Ignatius_cathedral_of_Shanghai_9.jpg

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Saint-Ignatius_cathedral_of_Shanghai_16.jpg

Inside, access to the altar was blocked by a wedding that was taking place. I could complain by saying that I'd be willing to bet my as-yet-not furloughed-paycheck that the Chinese couple getting married this afternoon chose St. Ignatius not because they were devout followers of the teachings of Christ, but because holding it there appealed to the superficiality so prevalent in local culture. But then who am I to quibble about such things, seeing as I hold the Bible to be a collection of stories and not the words of a supreme being. Besides, the ceremony did add to the atmosphere inside St. Ignatius, and it was good to see the cathedral actually being used as something more than just a sightseeing spot. It might an interesting place to observe a mass being held, except for the matter of the guards.

Guards. I don't know if it's because China is an authoritarian state, or whether it's due to the simple fact that the Chinese just don't trust each other, but the country is full of them. From public schools to shopping plazas and Catholic cathedrals, guards are posted everywhere to make sure only the right people get in and the riffraff stay out. So much for socialist egalitarianism. The whole time Amber and I were inside St. Ignatius, we observed the guards constantly telling people what they couldn't do. Granted, most Chinese probably don't have a clue as to how to behave properly inside a church, and people did need to be reminded not to put their feet up on the places where you should kneel when praying, for example. But it was the sheer rudeness of the guards that irritated me. Yes, this is China, where, in general, people treat each other with utter contempt. But a church is supposedly a house of God, a place in which people are meant to go so as to feel closer with their maker, and visitors deserve a modicum of respect. The people I saw in the church weren't doing anything to disrupt the proceedings (certainly nothing along the lines of behavior some of their compatriots have been accused of engaging in while on overseas tours), and yet they were shown the kind of contempt meted out to migrant workers trying to buy train tickets home during the New Year holidays.

Next door to St. Ignatius is the Bibliotheca Zi-Ka-Wei 徐家汇藏书楼. Built in 1847 and home to what has been described as a magnificent collection of rare books, a tour of the library there sounds like something I would want to do. Except that if the way St. Ignatius is run is any indication, I don't want to have anything to do with the Jesuits or the Shanghai Diocese.

Amber watches a Chinese bullet train zip by as we make our way to her twice-weekly Go (known as wéiqí 圍棋 in Mandarin and igo 囲碁 in Japanese) lesson. 

My daughter enjoys playing the strategic board game, and has been doing so since kindergarten. She was inspired by the Japanese anime アニメ Hikaru no Go ヒカルの碁, which she used to watch when we were living in Taiwan. The cover of her Go homework book features the two main characters from the series, Hikaru and his ghost mentor, Fujiwara-no-Sai 藤原佐為. 

A bowl of niúròufàn 牛肉饭 and some xiǎojiě's 小姐 at a supposed "Taiwanese-style night market" not far from Amber's Go school.

Enjoying a stick of jīròu chuàn 鸡肉串, skewers of chicken meat. Unfortunately, the rest of the meal didn't taste as good as this. 

What saved the day in the end was going to Shanghai's Bund 外滩 to see the night view, something we hadn't done before. Let there be lights, lots of them!