xiangwonin

Tschüss Deutschland

2009-07-26T02:38:00.000-07:00

Tschüss to Johannisbeere, Hefeweizen, home-made lasagne, Neckarmüller, Bulgaria, Moscow, my DDR-styled dorm. Tschüss to Müsli in the morning with Yogurt, or a Plunderstück mit Püdding. Tschüss to Bauernbrot, perpetual drunkenness, Argentian chess players, pub crawling, Hausarbeit (Hausarbeit!), Klausuren, Eis from San Marco, Kellarbier, Herr Volker Schmidt. Tschüss to the American exchange student infestation sensation (and the American linguistic invasion). Tschüss to "Handys" and kitsch that redefines kitsch. Tschüss Räuber Hotzenplotz. Tschüss to umlauts and Konjunktiv eins und zwei. Tschüss tschüss tschüss.

Ego Trip

2009-05-15T10:23:00.001-07:00

Wow. Yesterday was such a cool day! I'm getting all fuzzed up just thinking about it! Such awesome times! Amazing conversations! Things learned in class! People met! Drinks drunk! Drunks skunked!

How did it start? I'm not sure. God fuck I'm just getting very excited thinking about it. Not like using God's name in vain but just saying God, and then, "fuck! that was fun!" Well anyways I woke up again last morning with plans to do everything on my to-do list, as usual, which includes emailing professors, seeing doctors, applying for jobs, reading texts. I remember I read some of Wolf Schneider's Deutsch für Kenner. What a fun book!

Then I went to class. I made some comments und ich habe mich sehr genau ausgedruckt. So the docent has recognized that I am a Kenner. :) We both realized it when we looked into each other's eyes, staring at our reflections in the glassy pupils. Drilling into each other's skulls. A cerebral bore.

That class really is a cerebral bore. I mean, my brain is on sleep mode while I'm in there. So imagine what happens when I turn it on! Bam! Smack! Kick! In the throat punch!

Then I just hopped on a bus and rode around town for 2 hours. I saw an American guy on the bus carrying a frozen pizza from a Walmart-type supermarket. He didn't seem to see me, or didn't seem to want to see me. He didn't say anything to me. Am I a hostile to him? I would encounter him later in the evening....

Anyways, it was a fun bus trip. It inspired me to buy some groceries.

Then I went to get some groceries. I bought 5 Gala apples, 2 containers of yogurt, and some salmon spread (yum.). Then something totally strange happened....

As I was waiting in line to buy my groceries, there was a call to open another register. Cool, I thought, I won't have to leave the line to get to the other register before the person gets there (this always impresses people and mystifies them, but they can do it too!) I finally get to the line... and then I realized that the person at the front of the line was somehow... recognizable. Then she said it. "Isabell? Kann ich kurz eine Pause machen?"

"Ja klar."

Was it she? Could it be she? Be it she? It be! It was she! It was Isabell, the first student I ever met at Tübingen who, after stepping off the bus with me helped me with my luggage, just volunteering. An act of pure kindness. Pure diamondy Samaritanism. Brilliant. All her blackness and tattoos and rings and nail polish and piercings SPARKLED. I had thought of her that very day, how I would ever be able to repay her, and her she wasth, summoned before me. Mindblowingly conceived, as I, and here our destinies crossed. I finally would have the chance to thank her. To bow down to her. To kiss her shoes. To wash her feet.

But no. She looked up at me, scanned my items, and that was it. She didn't even recognize me. Or if she did, she made no indication that that was the case. Maybe she didn't want me to recognize her, clad in her bright striped collared shirt. Maybe not. Maybe whatever. It kind of blew me away. I didn't want to cause a scene. So I quietly left. I walked home and made myself a lunch of bread with salami, homemade marmelade, and salmon spread. Have I recovered?

Then I left to meet Kalli, a Greek wonderwoman radio operating queen and jester. We talked and then she set me up at the radio station to work my magic. It was good.

We then walked back to the Brechtbau, where I went to read Infinite Jest for 2 hours before making my way to the bar to meet some Philipps. Kalli gave me some brilliant advice. She's lived half her life in Greece and half in Germany. She's very laidback and schlau and just awesome overall. I told her I thought the Germans were too uptight. She said, I know these people, you have to shake them up a little, but they're actually very good. I've seen good, and I've seen bad, and I know that this is good, that you can be yourself here, du kannst du sein, you can be comfortable, and you can live. The Germans have learned tolerance, and you ought to learn to appreciate it.

Wow. Amazing. A whole new world opened! A whole new perspective ripped open. Awesome. Thank you Kalli.

Then I did my reading. Infinite Jest is 1000 pages chock full of insight. Brilliant, but it takes you an hour to plow through 20-30 pages. This is one tough book!

I then went to the bar. No one was there yet, but then friends showed up. I met Germans and Americans and was then invited to accompany new friends to Blaue Turm (Blue Tower), a disco! I haven't been to a German Diskothek in years! Tidal waves of nostalgia pounded against my body as I got drunk and people bought me drinks and I spread around my name and number like salmon spread on Farmer's Bread. Great reviews all around, great people, friendly creatures from all corners of the country. Familiar (and foreign) faces, drunken graces. Fun times.

I then took the bus home after I was invited to stay with some new friends. I got to walk home on my own, and then I went into the kitchen and ate some more salmon spread with bread. All the while listening to the new album from Passion Pit, Manners. Wow! Cool stuff!

Okay, that's enough from me. Goodbye for now, world. -M-

Beginnings of Studies at Tübingen

2009-04-20T14:33:00.000-07:00

It's very strange over here. I feel very alone, but I know people are here. The halls are empty, things are pretty quiet. No one's in the kitchen when I walk in there generally. Like when I go to the bathroom, I realize that the water in the toilet is running, so someone was just there. When I took a shower today, someone knocked on the door to the showers. That person left after showering before I finished. I saw two people in the hall next to my room today, and they just sort of looked at me and we both said hello and then that was that. Sometimes I think this dorm is a very well maintained ruin in which people are pretty much hiding in their own little corners. It feels so empty, even though the semester has officially "started."

Speaking of which, I had a hell of a time figuring things out today. I heard 3 American girls chatting as Americanly as possible while I was walking around, so I asked them where I should go to find information on Language courses for foreigners. They pointed me in the right direction after we went through introductions. I found them kind of repulsive, but I'm also kind of desperate to make friends at this point. I just feel really really lonely for some reason. I've been alone before, but I kind of need some support right now. Well, I then walked around a bit more and did some exploring until I found the place where some British girls were chatting in English. I got signed up for an appointment, and I was told by the woman who helped me that my German was at a "pretty high" level. I just told her "if you say so" and then walked around town for a bit. After withdrawing some money from Deutsche Bank, I stopped in a stationary store and got 3 little Moleskine books that I can fit in my pocket and use to learn new words.

After that, I was kind of hungry so I decided to walk around town until I found a decent bakery where I could get bottomless coffee and a quick pastry. Instead, I found a bakery with a big sign offering "Arbeitsplätze." I walked in and asked for a chocolate croissant after looking at their wares for a bit. I told the woman behind the counter I wanted to apply for a job and she thought I was asking her for a napkin. Her colleague then came over and I explained that I wanted to fill out an application. She said I could simply speak with the boss, who would be finishing up a telephone conversation in a bit. I waited around until she showed up. Her eyebrows were chiseled down to fine black lines and it seemed like she visited the tanning salon pretty often. I shook her hand, told her where I was from, what I'm doing. She seemed interested and told me to come in on Friday once I had my classes and everything with school figured out. I shook her hand again. Seems like a done deal, but I want to see what other work I can find. Maybe as a tutor or translator? We will see.

So I then took a different route home and walked past this huge grassy hill. I can't wait to climb up there with a good book and some apples and water and just chill out for a few hours. The path hugged a little river and wound past some gardens and a toolshed. It really was pretty scenic. I eventually crossed a bridge and walked through a village and then climbed uphill some more until I got to a forest path that led me to a grocery store/shopping center where I bought cream cheese, bread, butter, shrimp salad, gouda, würst, cereal, bananas, and yogurt. Pretty standard stuff. I got home and had a lunch of bread with cheese and shrimp salad and mango/apple juice that I left in the fridge before I started traveling. The juice was marvelous. Actually I want some more right now. :)

I then tooled around on the computer for a bit, looking through courses and this and that. I took the recommended speaking test at the Goethe Institute where I was judged as C2, the 2nd best level. C1 is considered "perfect fluency," so by the time I leave Tübingen, I should be there. I actually decided that I would take a course today that would give me a test for a little diploma. Then I will finally have proof, confirmation, and assurance that I speak German completely perfectly. :) More confidence in my speaking ability than I will ever have had! I also plan on taking Introduction to International Relations, Advanced Preparation for German Speaking Diploma, Subject Speaking in Economy and Law, Germany/EU in International Politics, and something else probably. I'm still figuring it out. I asked an American friend I met before I started traveling about everything, and he helped me out with registration. That being said, he said I should try and find out at the lecture hall where this one class is.

I wanted to go to this class called "German, EU, and International Law" today at 6:00 pm, but I couldn't find it. I emailed the professor before I left. I walked back along the same route, but this time I followed the river past a homeless person's little hut/garden and under a bridge. I ended up in the village again but changed routes again and after a bit of wandering I still found my way home. I was exhausted, and after I killed some time on the computer I ate a banana and some bread and hopped into bed to do some reading. After, I got some cheese from the kitchen and ate some with the bread. Then I went back to my reading and now here I am again.

I should get some sleep. -M-

Pictures

2009-03-27T17:13:00.001-07:00

Outside the Louvre

Tower of Belem

A Moorish Castle

The Monastery at Belem

An Aqueduct that wasn't Destroyed in the Earthquake of 1755

I Like Couchsurfing

2009-03-24T07:39:00.000-07:00

Couchsurfing is fun. I have met some really cool people and had some really neat experiences thanks to couchsurfing.

For those of you unsavvy, unrighteous dudes who haven't heard about couchsurfing, it's a website where you sign up to live with some strangers and then stay with them for a certain amount of time in exchange for good company. Doesn't cost you a dime, and you make friends all over the world this way. Brilliant.

In Madrid, I went to a botellon, an (illegal!) event in which everyone brings some food or drink and people meet in a public place and chat and drink and eat. I met a Spanish Spanish teacher, who teaches to immigrant youths to get them ready for high school in Spain. Her stories about Germans (whom she finds to be very amusing people) and her take on Spanish healthcare and the university system (and changes and protests) were rather enlightening, assisting me in reflecting back on my perspective on welfare/governmental social involvement.

I also met a Dutch-English freelance translator who travels the world and translates. All she needs to work are a computer and internet, and she can work anywhere she wants. She is an avid fan of couchsurfing, writing novels, reading, exploring, etc. What a neat way to live!

I also met a German guy living in Spain who once lived in the Israeli desert for 6 months while escaping the German police, who were trying to catch him so he could serve his mandatory duty in the Bundeswehr. He taught me about WWOOFF and ryanair.com and all the other interesting places he's been and interesting people he's met, including a witch who later became a bible addict.

In Lisbon, I've spent some good time with a group of touring electronica musicians, BASKETBALL, who are currently traveling all over Europe. Really friendly guys! Interesting hearing their stories about Vancouver and about their awesome show at an underground parking lot turned into a mega-club in Lisbon.

I've also met a pot-smoking high school math teacher who is a true young spirit. He's a connoisseur of all sorts of music, and studied percussion. He's one of the most curious people I've met, interested in architecture and all sorts of cultures.

I've also met a computer programmer with sizable dreadlocks who's turned his house into a youth hostel - when I first arrived, he had 3 tents in the backyard and about 10 people sleeping inside. I helped him break up the concrete patio in the backyard, which he hopes to turn into a grassy lawn.

I've also met a jazz singing vagabond who goes from show to show, staying with friends. It's the life she's chosen, as she says, and she gave me her take on the music business - from agents to managers, from product to club owners. Quite a fascinating creature (who once lived in Long Beach and DJed with the Jazz Radio in LA!) with a lovely voice.

Of course, I've met other characters as well, from a couple of minimum wage-working, pot-smoking Canadians (with whom I hitchhiked to the Westernmost point of Europe), a German marathon runner, a Scottish student studying in Spain, a Lithuanian math graduate student, some Polish students ditching school for a month... the list goes on. What a brilliant adventure couchsurfing has facilitated.

As for my current adventuring, I went to a Moorish castle, the most fascinating palace I have ever seen, complete with navigable grottos, caves, wells... stunning. We also explored an abandoned mine shaft and went to the municipal palace in Sintra. We then walked over to Cabo da Roca, and later had some beer in town until the sun set. Exhausted, we returned home and savagely ate a meal of soup, chicken, rice, bread, and french fries. Completely satisfying. Then my host treated me to a couple of glasses of port and we had a good talk. I will put up some pictures when I feel like it. Today, I was supposed to go to the beach, but my Uncle-like host warned me that it was supposed to rain today, so I decided I would sleep in instead. The weather is beautiful today, and I have been staying outside, relaxing with the Canadian musicians. We all plan to cook a big meal today with incoming Koreans and others, so the food should be delicious. I'm making apple crisp. :)

What a magical experience. I leave tomorrow for Paris, where I will be staying with a collective of artists. -M-

More of Madrid and a Little of Lisboa

2009-03-22T05:36:00.000-07:00

Lisbon Street

Main Square entrance

I'm in Lisbon right now, but I thought it would be good to put up some pictures of Madrid while I still have the chance. I'm currently camping out of a little cafe run by some Brazilians inside a shopping center that has WiFi. :) Then on to a bus tour, then meeting up my couchsurfing host tonight, if he/they are around.

Some famous gate or something in Madrid.

Max, my German couchsurfing host. Saved my ass at the last minute. He insisted we climb up this tower of ropes to get a good view of the outskirts of Madrid.

An albino peacock! He was doing his mating dance. Seemed pretty frustrated.

Churros con chocolate! Yum!

These pics are of Lisboa... reminds me of a gritty San Tropez + Veracruz. I think I almost got mugged in the bathroom of the train station... some guy said something to me and sort of grabbed at me with his drunken bud. Poor guys, they must've been pretty bored and are now suffering from massive hangovers.

The city is beautiful, but dirty and sprayed with graffiti. I got there at 8AM and the city was still waking up. Some clubs still had their doors open and music blasting. I now know some basic Portuguese... My tip is to ask around every chance you get, people will be happy that you're trying to learn the language.

It's really hard to get around because the city is smushed between so many streets. It's kind of crazy. Plus my first impressions were weird - a potential assault, and a waiting room full of sleepy old colored men and pigeons missing toes. An indoor waiting room. And a midget serving me coffee. But then the guy who helped me get my ticket and the tourist staff were super nice and helpful.

Sorry that I'm not updating this elegantly or regularly, but it's not like I have the chance - I'm so busy, I'm lucky to get this much in. Will update when I have the chance again.

By the way, everyone I've spoken with has remarked about how little I've packed. I want to do an inventory, but don't really have time/energy. I basically have 4 shirts/pairs of underwear, camera, toiletries, book, Moleskine, jacket, sweater, coat, scarf, socks, pens, notes, computer, camera, cell phone, wallet, passports. That's about it really.

That's all for now. Adeus, as the Portuguese say. -M-

Madrid

2009-03-19T23:56:00.000-07:00

Is unassumingly beautiful. The city doesn't try to be anything more than it is - it just is. It's breathtaking, really.

El Prado

Inside

Inside the Royal Botanical Gardens

Outside of the Metro

Classical Guitar

Arrival in Tübingen

2009-03-15T16:47:00.000-07:00

I clambered off the bus with my two backpacks and my two bulging pieces of baggage. Before exiting, I asked the man with the incredibly densely packed wooly wild locks if this was Tübingen University. He told me that the university was somewhere around here, and I thought to myself, “It doesn’t make much difference – either way, I don’t know where I’m supposed to be going.”

Crossing the bus station, I headed over to the T-Mobil phonebooth and picked up the phone. But whom was I supposed to call? A chubby dark-haired broad with a cigarette walked by eyeing me up and down, releasing an unpleasant and unfortunately audible grunt of disapproval after making a note of my custom-made, fitted cashmere coat and cream-colored silk shirt complete with cufflinks. “Well, it’s not like my shoes are even polished,” I thought to myself. It seemed to make little difference to her. But there was no doubt about it – I was overdressed, distressed, and exhausted, and it was getting dark.

I gave up on the idea of phoning someone and walked over to the taxi across the street. The driver was kind enough (or contractually obligated) to help me with my luggage. We got in the taxi, and I yanked out the few important documents I had with me, realizing that I needed to find my way to Pfrondorfer Straße 36.

“Pfrondorfer Straße sechsunddreizig,” I sputtered.

“Okay,” said the taxi driver. He had some strange bumps on his face, that looked like warts or moles but couldn’t be either. He was balding and pretty ugly, but something about his face was rather inviting. Deceptively so, as I was about to discover.

“Where are you coming from?” he asked me, in German (of course).

“Um, well I just got back from Shanghai, and I was in Los Angeles for one day, and then I flew to London, then to Stuttgart, and then I took a bus here.”

“Oh. Okay, well may I say something, just completely honestly?”

“Sure,” I answered. I was curious.

“Well you looked very unsure standing there. You know, if you look like you’re not very sure of yourself, it’s likely that someone is going to give you some trouble.”

“Well of course I’m not too sure about myself, I just got here.” I laughed. Big mistake. “How can you be so certain of yourself when you get to a city where you don’t know anyone and you’re not sure where to go and you’ve never been there before? Plus I’ve been flying for 24 hours in the past 3 days.”

“Yeah, but you have to be careful.” This man has probably never been out of this city once in his life, I thought. “But I mean, Tübingen is actually quite a safe city. You can go out until 3AM, and you really don’t have anything to worry about. Even women can go out that late.”

I smiled dumbly, considering the absurdity of the conversation and situation.

“So I guess you don’t have too much to worry about, but the people who don’t look sure of themselves are going to be the ones that have problems, you know?”

“Yes, yeah I know what you mean.”

“I mean in Frankfurt, for example. You know how the economy is going crazy? People left and right are losing their jobs there, there’s so much tension. People are really tense over there. What I mean, really, is crime is on the rise. There it is. But people here are students and professors. They’ve already got it all made. They have nothing to worry about. But still, I mean damn, in Frankfurt, I’m glad I’m here. You know? So you have to be careful.”

“Okay, well I don’t plan on going to Frankfurt anytime soon.”

“That’s exactly my point! People aren’t thinking of others, the only think about themselves. You can’t just look after yourself, we have to watch out for others. Like, I mean, what if I didn’t give you that advice just now? You would’ve never known that you looked really insecure and that you were making yourself a target. If I hadn’t picked you up, it would be another 10 minutes until someone came along and stabbed you and grabbed your coat and luggage. I saved your life. You could be dead right now if I didn’t pick you up. And look at what you’re wearing, you know? When you dress like that, people are going to give you problems, you’ll stick out in a crowd. And now you’re probably thinking, damn, if it wasn’t for this guy, I would probably be calling my dad and saying ‘Papa I don’t like it here, get me a private plane to send me home.’ But hey, you’ve got me here, so no worries.”

“Yes, I can’t complain. I’m very lucky.” Could this guy see how tired I was? Is that how he knew that I wouldn’t ask him to pull over and walk out?

“You are, you have to enjoy your time, you know? You don’t have much time here. So that’s what I say, don’t think, just enjoy. Denk nicht, einfach genißen. That’s what life’s about!” This was diametrically opposed to my entire life philosophy. “And you know, people will really like you when they realize that you’re just a good person who really wants to enjoy life and enjoy it with others.” I revere hermits and attempt to emulate such living. “So that’s what life’s about, you know? I tell you, I’ve met so many people during my time as a taxi driver, I’ve learned so many things.”

“That’s great – you have a job that you enjoy, and you’re learning from it.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Germans aren’t known for being attuned to sarcasm. “That’s it though, I mean, that’s exactly my point. I enjoy life. So many people just neglect that and they end up living out their whole lives without realizing what they want or knowing how to enjoy life.”

Fuck, I thought. My destination is much too far away.

Well, that was my first experience in Tübingen. It was quite difficult, getting matriculated, a cell phone, a bank account, paying my rent, finding this and that and surviving and meeting people and establishing a network and exploring the city and relearning German and was weiss ich.

Heftig war's.

Now I'm doing some traveling. Am currently visiting my former host family in northern Germany close to Hamburg. Tuesday I plan on traveling to Portugal and couchsurfing. More to come when I get the chance. -M-

Continent Hopping

2009-03-09T07:46:00.000-07:00

Bwah.

So tired. Surrounded by weird Germans. Lots of complaining, storytelling, earrings, mullets, smoking, Brötchen, cigarette vending machines, Pfand, military jackets, converse shoes.... Reverse culture shock. Bwah -M-

From JG Ballard's Empire of the Sun

2009-02-23T06:35:00.000-08:00

"The public stranglings were held in a miniature stadium with scrubbed wooden floors and rows of circular benches around the teak execution posts, and always attracted a thoughtful audience. The Chinese enjoyed the spectacle of death, Jim had decided, as a way of reminding themselves of how precariously they were alive. They liked to be cruel for the same reason, to remind themselves of the vanity of thinking that the world was anything else."

Daydreams Materialize at the Touch of My Fingertips

2009-02-23T02:20:00.000-08:00

This is an email I wrote today for my boss. I never sent it. Nor did I finish it. I'm pretty depressed.

JFK,

I have a tempting but daring proposition. This is an excerpt from Bernie:

“Chiang’s Kuomintang party ran what amounted to a one-party police state. But it found that, notwithstanding its formal sovereignty, its writ did not run very far...” (p. 3).

I think we should tie this into a sidebar titled Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose," which translates to - the more things change, the more they stay the same. Sneakily, we leave the last bit open-ended, suggesting that "Chinese writ" is no better than a feeble guideline.

Okay, well enough fantasizing...

:(

2009-02-22T19:53:00.000-08:00

http://www.danwei.org/media_business/thats_magazines_a_cautionary_t.php

http://www.danwei.org/china_books/mark_kittos_china_cuckoo.php#comments

I feel like I'm struggling and struggling and struggling to no avail. When will there be progress? When will we see results? How long must we fight? How will we win? -M-

Hit Me Baby One More Time!

2009-02-17T21:57:00.000-08:00

You may want to read this before you read this. And, if you still have time, take a look at this! -M-

Half an American

2009-02-17T20:18:00.000-08:00

From Bernard Wasserstein's Secret War in Shanghai:

"Among the foreign rogues of the Shanghai underworld were the British gun-runner General 'One-Arm' Sutton and the American 'Peg-Leg' Kearney. 'Strictly speaking,' as Kearney put it, he was 'only half an American,' since he was 3 feet tall, having had both his legs amputated. He had two wooden legs but travelled everywhere by rickshaw. A former arms salesman, he claimed to have served as an admiral in the Chilean navy. The generation of Sutton and Kearney had mostly faded out by the late 1930s but their successors, bit-players in the Shanghai game of nations during World War II, were no less colourful. Chief among them were a White Russian opera singer, impresario and gang boss 'Captain' Pick, a fraudulent Indian 'Princess' Sumaire, an abortionist, brothel-owner and sexual extortionist Dr Albert von Miorini, a monkey expert, drug dealer and unqualified 'Doctor' Hermann Erben, and a shady Franco-American journalist and aviator Hilaire du Berrier. In addition to their regular avocations, Shanghai police records suggest they all served as low-level intelligence agents, usually offering their services to the highest bidder."

On a related note, I was granted German citizenship the other day when I received my German passport. On the downside, I look like some sort of insane aristocrat in my passport photo. -M-

The Story of Cotton

2009-02-17T00:58:00.000-08:00

Our editorial team is meeting at Cotton's next Wednesday. I hope I get the chance to meet her. What an incredible woman.

Cotton from Shanghaiist on Vimeo.

Busy Weekend

2009-02-15T19:56:00.000-08:00

This weekend was very busy. I did not sleep much. It began, more or less, on Thursday.

Thursday night was quite pleasant. I got home and saw two strangers talking over some beers in our living room. One was Jiancarlo, our soon-to-be roommate from central Italy, and his ravishing lady friend, whose name I've forgotten and comes from France. We had a nice Chinese dinner of sweet-and-sour pork, hot beef spleen with potatoes, xiaolong bao, and some other items without all the awkward conversation that tends to accompany first impressions. After doing some research for the events going on on Thursday, and based on the fact that Jiancarlo knew the owner and recommended that we check the place out, Claudio and I went to the D & G Martini Bar on the Bund. The place was super sleek, with black, leather sofas weaving around the room, a huge red chandelier, black curtains, black reflective walls, and a huge well-lit bar with a mirror in the background. I was so pleased with the place that I came to work the next day and asked my colleague if I could write a review so I could head back there with subsidization. We both had Negroni cocktails, a lovely mix of gin, Campari, and some other magic substances. We also had delicious Aperitivo, with a selection of delicious parmesan cheese, farfalle pasta salad, other pasta, and a salad with speck and other yummy things. We were the only people there until around 11pm when a single group of people walked in and filled up the whole bar. The house music was simple and soothing, not too loud, allowing one to make pleasant conversation without straining the vocal apparatus. We waited to see if any of our friends would want to join us, and eventually our dear friend Yves from Paris came, and we all left to go to Windows Too, the first bar I ever visited in Shanghai. We downed a couple of Tsingtaos, did some people-watching, made some cruddy conversation, and eventually headed back at 2am or so.

Friday night was also quite busy. I had plans to meet Vivi and Tissy for a Hunan dinner near Zhongshan Park. After work, I walked with Casey a new colleague of mine and a USC student who's an acquaintance of Colin Baker and Bryce Mintie, who grew up in my 'hood, to the subway station. I then ran from the subway to my apartment. I quickly got changed, met the new Italian roommates, Andre and Jiancarlo, who had finished moving in, and then ran into Hannes who was looking for Claudio to go to the Fabric Market. I said "Hi, hi, hi, ciao, tschüss, bye" and was out the door, running to the subway station. Thankfully, I arrived at 7pm, the time I intended to meet Tissy and Vivi, and managed to find the Cloud 9 shopping mall with relative ease. I ran up the escalator to the 5th floor and walked into the restaurant, muttering to the man who tried to stop me "Wo de peng you...," pointing to the restaurant's dim interior. I couldn't find them, called, and found that they were actually waiting outside for a table to open up. They had been waiting one hour - there is a saying in Chinese that Westerners eat to live while Chinese live to eat. I'm convinced that this isn't far from the truth. We sat down and began ordering lettuce with sesame sauce, steamed taro root with corn, yams, and spicy peanuts, spicy hongshao pork, halved freshwater fish with red and green chiles, watermelon juice, spicy frog stew, and a score of other dishes. Suffice it to say, we ate a lot of spicy food and didn't finish. We talked about my former job, our impressions of the boss, Shanghainese people and how they treat country-bumpkin-folk, Vivi's appendix operation, Vivi's 30+ year-old Turkish boyfriend, Tissy's boyfriend who lives at home with her and will probably end up marrying her, my new job, whether or not I will come back to China... the dinner was a 2.5 hr ordeal. Tissy paid for the meal with a debit card, which totally blew me away and resulted in much protestation from my end. She just said, "You pay next time." Anyways, I ended up getting home at 10pm and got back to work on an essay I was writing. At 10:30pm, another friend let me know that he was coming through People's Park and that we ought to hang out. So I joined. I finally got some sleep at around 4am, then woke up at 7am to finish the essay I had been working on earlier.

Saturday was a busy day too. After finishing this pesky essay (which [suffice it to say] one reader found to be "outstanding"), I played some chess until 12:30, lunch time. Claudio and Jiancarlo and I went over to Favola across the street. I had plates of Bavette and Spaghetti Carbonara and a Pizza. Vivi joined us later, and, astounded by the amount of food I was eating and my proportions, told me I should be a girl. Shucks. She also let Claudio, who complained that he was having some trouble learning Chinese, that it was his problem and that he should study more. I was deeply amused. After lunch, a 2.5 hr affair, I showed Vivi the apartment where a handful of Italians were assisting in Jiancarlo and Andre's move-in. I thought something like 6 Italians were moving in, but I didn't have time to contemplate the chaos and slipped out as Hannes walked in to join Claudio and me for a final trip to the fabric market. I walked Vivi out as well, showing her the way to the subway while we hunted a taxi. After finally flagging one down, the three of us proceeded to the South Bund Fabric Market where I picked up 4 silk shirts that I had had tailored. After joking with the salespeople at the tailor's they gave us complimentary red bean porridge in plastic cups. I was too stuffed from lunch and so passed mine off to our friend at the tailor's where I picked up a cashmere coat and where Hannes and Claudio picked up some suits. We then did a bit of browsing and haggling, in which I managed to buy some cufflinks for a third of the original price. It was the first time I really exercised my bargaining prowess, and I think I did pretty well! It was 5:30 by the time we finally got home. Claudio was at Windows Scoreboard with the Italians the night before, and they wanted to go again for some cheap drinks and bar grub. So Claudio, Jiancarlo, another Italian, and I proceeded to the bar after struggling to find a cab. Before we stepped in though, Jiancarlo pointed to a sign showing a woman clad in ear muffs firing a pistol, indicating that he wanted to go to this shooting range sometime. A man with an unshakable smile made a pistol with his hands and shouted bang bang!, motioning for us to follow him. We looked at each other and asked, "Do we want to do it?" All of us did, and we followed him through a dingy backstreet to an elevator, where he pushed the button to the fifth floor. We followed and were in a large room with a ping-pong table, a twin-barreled turret, a machine gun, and a couple of Chinese guys wearing US Army uniforms. It was weird. But they were friendly, and I really didn't have any qualms about being there. We pointed to which guns we wanted to shoot at went from there for a hefty 80 RMB for 10 shots. Claudio and I chose some 9mm pistols while Jiancarlo and his friend picked out some sort of rifle with a scope. I was surprised by how small the bullets were - it was the first time I ever shot a pistol. Anyways, it's pretty tough - I was shooting from some sort of WWII-era Luger and managed to get one bull's eye. It was really cool though! After we went to the bar. My companions had wings, french fries, burgers, beers, and cocktails. I was still full and just had a Made in Shanghai, some sort of delicious concoction comprised of rum, Midori, and Sprite. Delicious and refreshing! I was quite happy with the bar too - an obviously successful formula of good music, cheap food and drinks had lured in scores of foreigners. We were trying to go to the aforementioned M1NT, as Sunny and Casey, two of my colleagues, had an interview with Sean Kingston over there where he was performing that night. Unfortunately, they couldn't get us in, but fortunately, we went to Sin Lounge as an alternative, a bar of which Claudio is a big fan. Cocktails were super pricy (70 RMB) but also delicious - I had some sort of lime-strawberry concoction with 42 Below and a kiwi-type Vodka drink served in a rocks glass. These were honestly the tastiest drinks I've had since I've been here and the music was great (with fresh housey remixes from Justice and Benassi). Did I mention the place is located on the 24th floor of some hotel and makes you feel like you're looking out at an aquarium of skyscrapers? It's incredible. On the downside, some Chinese guy hit on Claudio which kind of freaked him out. Casey and a pretty plastered Sunny joined us later and we talked for about a half hour. But by then, people were leaving in droves. Poor Sin... a nice, pricy place full of 30+ year-old business guys... guess the old farts got tired by 3am. That concluded our night.

I woke up at 9AM on Sunday and rushed out to the subway. I was supposed to meet Kevin at West Yannan Subway Station at 10am - I made it right on time. We were making a day trip to Qibao. I have to write about this later because it will take a long time to talk about and it was incredible and I have a plethora of pictures of everything.

After Qibao, though, I went home and took a nap. I then cleaned my room. I then joined Steffen and Claudio and we got some shengjian mantou and McDonald's ice cream. We then watched some football at home and had some beers. Then I went to work on a listing for the magazine that evening that was due the next morning. I finally went to sleep and woke up early today to finish the listing.

Whew! - M-

Opulence and Indigence: Iniquity?

2009-02-11T20:43:00.000-08:00

From that's Shanghai, October:

"They've got staggering Bund views, an internationally renowned cocktail mixologist and a rooftop terrace with Jacuzzi (doesn't everyone these days?). But now read this and weep: They also have possum-skin furniture, a nine-meter Swarovski crystal chandelier and a limousine service that whisks VIPs in smooth dark secrecy to the venue's basement on Fuzhou Lu, where they will be 'seamlessly transferred' into an elevator sweeping them up into the sanctuary of the club. Staff uniforms have been exclusively designed by the legendary Shanghainese designer Lu Kun and 22 hammerhead sharks in a colossal fish tank greet you at the entrance."

Breathtaking and nauseating, such ostentatiousness has stunned me. When I first read this description of MINT, I was repulsed... and, although I'm reluctant to admit it, fascinated. The more time I spend here in Shanghai, the more I come to realize that the denizens and visitors of this city are separated into their own little worlds. More and more, this thought of mine is becoming less of a conjecture and more of an observation.

I'm reminded of reading a National Geographic article on Moscow that I read in the break room of the Kohl's where I once worked. Here I was, middle-class me, reading about the billionaire's playground while I worked minimum wage surrounded by middle-aged women. I was fascinated by the tales of ludicrous luxury. And I wanted to see what my co-workers at the other end of the spectrum were like... they fascinated me as well - their jokes of poking holes in condoms, the tale of one co-worker's addiction to huffing, which she shrugged off the day she learned she was pregnant. I learned about married life, immigrant life, drifting life...

One Mexican girl, who couldn't have been much older than I was, spoke about her time at Wal-Mart, in which a white woman approached her asking her if she spoke English. She responded in crystal clear English that she did, asking how she could help her. The woman looked at her dumb-founded, and spoke loudly and slowly, asking her where she could find this shirt in another size. Taken aback by the woman's flagrant impudence, the girl's blood began to curdle - that nasty temper was going to flare back as soon as she recovered from her initial astonishment. Another question from the white woman was all it took to set the girl off, and, having lost her job, was escorted out of the store.

Although I hated this job, I loved the people there. It was a similar situation at IPWell. I hated the job, but I loved the people. And I loved the notion of "Intellectual Property" in China and the thought of prosecuting and litigation in Intellectual Property in China. I think "law" and the lawyer culture Americans embrace is still a fledgling concept in China, but had I not worked at IPWell, I would never be able to make such a statement. And I would have never learned that I don't want to be a lawyer.

In any case, what I would like to write is that the super-rich are universally worshiped even though they distance themselves from the poor as much as physically possible. Still, they receive more publicity and are consequently very well-known. And the ultra-poor? They're voyeuristically regarded as curios for tourists and passersby to gawk at. Is this iniquitous? I'm not sure, but what I am sure of is that it is reality. It's really real - people living blocks away from each other and passing each other on the street come from different worlds. Sometimes it is too much to bear.

I think this is reflected in that same October issue of that's Shanghai. The article on Mint appears in the front, while the article "Meet your Man in the Street" appears in the back. I'm not criticizing the issue - I enjoyed both articles very much and found them to be informative - but it's ironic and probably not coincidental that two stories describing two worlds have as much space between them as feasible. To end as I began, here's a snapshot of a 60-year-old knife sharpener, Ren Zhonghe, quoted from the mentioned article. I remember seeing a man sharpening knives as I was walking one day. The technique he used probably wasn't much different than that used several hundred years ago.

"Where He's From: Anhui Province

Working Hours: 6AM-7PM, Almost Everyday, Including Rainy Days. 'If it rains I just carry an umbrella.

Where he works: along Zhonghua Xin Lu, Yichuan Lu, in Putuo and Zhabei District

Years of trade: 10

Monthly income: I earn RMB20-30 every day. Every month it is roughly RMB 1,000.

Cost of overheads: Around RMB 100, including a knife grinder, a knife stone, and a woodeb stool.

How he learnt his trade: In my hometown, a lot of people live on sharpening knives. I learnt this trade when I was a teenager.

How much his services cost: RMB 2-10 for every knife, according to its size and how rusty it is.

Any territory problem? No. Every day I wander around and never stay in one place. If someone comes earlier than me, I just choose another place.

Do you charge more for foreigners? So far, I have not had any foreign customers. But if I had, I would not charge more."

-M-

Chinese People Love Spitting

2009-02-11T01:02:00.001-08:00

And they really spit, putting their whole bodies into the process.

http://www.spiegel.de/international/0,1518,403921,00.html

A Predicament of Banality

2009-02-08T21:47:00.001-08:00

I suppose I should begin this blog by including a bit of background information on current circumstances. Today is my last day of work at IPWell China Intellectual Property Law Firm. I regret to inform you, reader, but work at a law firm is not exactly intriguing. My tasks were limited to sending out 50 emails per day from a selection of firms in hopes of establishing "corporation relationships," as my boss puts it. The list of firms I was to contact included over 2213 firms. So I combed through the list, deleting repeats, noting which firms were defunct or otherwise impossible to contact. I began this task on my third day of work and have continued doing it ever since. On the second day of work, my boss asked me if I wanted to do something other than reading, which is what I was doing as I reviewed the English version of the Guidelines for Examination: State Intellectual Property Office of The People's Republic of China. I made a note to myself before my boss came in to instruct me what to do. It reads as follows:

My first real day at work!

What should I do? No one is here yet, including my boss, I think, & I'm just here at my desk... CPU doesn't function w/o Admin Pass.

Following the writing of that note, I just grabbed the book on my desk and started reading it. The diction was purely (and excessively) bureaucratic, and the writing was contrived and unnatural, but the content did manage to pique my interest. This is what I quoted in my log from the book:

"According to the Provisions of Article 5 of the Patent Law, no patent right shall be granted for any invention-creation if its disclosure, use or manufacture is contrary to the laws of the State or social morality or detrimental to public interest." (p. 121) Declared a "general principle."

Preceding this... "This Law is enacted to protect patent rights for inventions-creations, foster the spreading & application of invention-creation, and to promote the development and innovation of science and technology, for meeting the needs of the construction of socialist modernization." (Article I)

I'm loving the outdated socialist rhetoric, but I can't say I fondly regard the first quote, which essentially indicates that Rule of Man is indoctrinated and therefore should be considered Rule of Law. In our Chinese Politics and Government class, we often ordained these systems of rule as being diametrically opposed. As indicated in the text, however, the Chinese legislators have blatantly indicated that Rule of Law triumphs... only, it serves not to define what the boundaries and checks and balances are that restrict policymakers. Rather, it reiterates the fact that policymakers are allowed to approve and disapprove as they see fit. By keeping principles "general" and ambiguously refusing to define what comprises "State or social morality," the provisions of Article 5 summarily grant those who grant patent rights the ability to reject or approve patents as they please. The fact that law is written to supposedly make legitimate whatever the party does does little to give credit to the party for drafting laws in the first place.

And the laws that do exist to regulate trademark, copyright, and patent law? They are hardly enforced. Any Westerner visiting China will take delight in the plethora of fake DVDs sold out on streets and in stores. Some of these DVDs will even have that cute PSA reminding the audience that "You wouldn't steal a car... you wouldn't steal a movie. Pirated movies are stolen movies." (That AdCouncil is so presumptuous. :)) Boy, did that do a number on my conscience...

As you may have been able to realize from the banal, complaining tone of my writing, my work here has not exactly been exciting. My boss said, "You didn't come all the way to China to read, right?" I actually learned more from those first days of reading than I did from weeks of emails. My practical work experience here has hardly taught me much. I did learn, however, that working at a law firm is boring, law is generally pretty boring, and lawyers tend to be excessively pretentious. So my interest in law has waned, and I hope that it is never revived. Time will tell, but as of now, I am quite certain that I do not want to go to law school.

Plagued by the trite office life here, I sought new work. As I browsed through a copy of that's Shanghai, a magazine written for expats living here in Shanghai, I came across an ad asking for anyone interested to send his/her CVs and an email with a pitch to the editor at that's Shanghai. That's exactly what I did:

Hello,
I am here in Shanghai for an internship, and I would love to contribute to That's Shanghai while I'm here. As a newcomer, I am actively exploring the city and blogging about my adventures at http://xiangwonin.blogspot.com/. I have studied quite a bit about Chinese religions, history, and politics, and would like to expand my knowledge of China by exploring Shanghai's culture (even though Shanghai is arguably China's "least Chinese" city) by visiting its bars, clubs, restaurants, museums, and whatever else I encounter; I want to see as many sides of the city as possible, and the more I see of Shanghai, the more I realize that it's a place where people of many worlds converge and survive in some sort of manageable chaos. It's been fun, and at this point, I'm just getting my feet wet.
But as I become more acquainted with the city, I feel it's time to dive in. And I would love to write about it for That's Shanghai. I already have quite a bit of experience in journalism writing for my school newspaper, an independent scholarly publication, and a German youth newspaper, as indicated in my resume. For my first piece, I would like to write about Lin Zhao, a progressive writer who at one point lived and was later imprisoned in Shanghai. I'd like to check out her former apartment and interview one (or more) of her friends to write a short biography; it's a fascinating (albeit controversial) story. If that article would be too politically charged, I would also gladly write about "The Lab," a free DJ school/lounge/hang-out where DJs, musicians and artists can hang out and hone their skills (maybe That's Shanghai has already covered this?).
I'm an explorer and adventurer, an epicure and academic, a party animal and music junkie. I think That's Shanghai and I would make a great match, and I would love to contribute to the magazine that has already served as a guide for me in my excursions. Please let me know if we can make this happen!

Thanks!

Cheers,
Matt Neckelmann

This was the first email of the eventual 8 that I wrote to the editor. The reply: "we'd love to have you." But I already had an internship, as I had to lament, and I wanted to come in during mornings, evenings, or on the weekends to do work for that's Shanghai. After much persistence and negotiation, I convinced my boss here at IPWell to let me off on Fridays so that I could work there. Last Friday was my first day of work at that's Shanghai, and I was already commissioned to write a review of a bar, Papaya, and contribute a listing of events to take place on the weekend. The office was full of lively, personable blokes, who chuckled when I told the editor that I figured I would need a lobotomy and some heroin if I were to enjoy work at the law firm. With that, I boldly suggested that I work for them full time. The editor said (more or less), "No problem, there's no rush on our end. Think it over and then let me know if you can come in full time." He was once a lawyer, so I believe he understands my predicament. With a grin on my face, I walked home that evening down Huashan Road to the subway. I couldn't stop smiling. I had extricated myself from a problem most people would deal with by complaining. I felt like I was yanking the reins of destiny left and right as I saw fit. It felt pretty damn good.

Yet now that I am sitted here, with Kevin and Tissy to my respective left and right, I feel a tinge of guilt. I've abandoned my dear colleagues here, who have been unremittingly kind to me. I have used my last time here to read The New Yorker and the International Herald Tribune. Distracted and depressed, I type away as my last day at IPWell comes to an end. Simultaneously, I secretly rejoice as I explain the hilarity of the company's name to a co-worker and chat with Claudio and Emma using Facebook's chat feature. I am tying up all my loose ends here, explaining to Tissy, Kevin, and Lynn why I am leaving. Although I intended to leave after lunch, Tissy and I had the following conversation which has unavoidably changed my plans.

(R)Tissy(R)----*komen IPwell -62125577:) 说:that's great ,i think it's much better than here
mneckelmann@gmail.com 说:okay, I'm glad you think so :)
(R)Tissy(R)----*komen IPwell -62125577:) 说:it's a pity that i have no time to invite u to have much more delicious foods
mneckelmann@gmail.com 说:yes, I agree
mneckelmann@gmail.com 说:if you have any free time before I go, though, I would like to have some food with you
mneckelmann@gmail.com 说:also, I was wondering if you would be willing to share some gifts I brought with our colleagues.... I brought some chocolate for all of you
(R)Tissy(R)----*komen IPwell -62125577:) 说:today?
mneckelmann@gmail.com 说:yep
(R)Tissy(R)----*komen IPwell -62125577:) 说:about 5 pm ,I will show you aroud to everyone ,and you can say 'byebye' to everyone and give your chocolate to them
mneckelmann@gmail.com 说:okay, thanks tissy
mneckelmann@gmail.com 说::)

I feel like this has been a day of victory for me, but I am still a little sad. I will reflect on the conversations I've had here and speculate on that which could have been... Perhaps further distraction will serve to relieve me of this dim dejection. Although we despise acknowledgement thereof, we are all secretly aware of the fact that distraction is indeed a panacea for the spirits. -M-

Weekend Tribulations

2009-02-06T20:28:00.000-08:00

At the bar.

Papaya

So, after a wonderful first day of new work, I decided to go out and celebrate with the Germans. I got home, grabbed a Flensburger Weizen from the fridge, changed, and out the door we went! I had to review a bar known as Papaya for that's Shanghai, so that's where we went to first after a quick dinner. Inexplicable decor, friendly service, decently-priced drinks in a tiny, tiny hole. Not bad, but nothing special. Because Windows Too was close by on Nanjing Xi Lu, we decided to head over there for some cheap drinks only to find a 50 RMB cover which included one measly drink. :( Not much was happenin', and we couldn't find anywhere to sit, so we eventually decided to just head somewhere else. I had heard quite a lot about MAO, so I thought that it would be best if we headed there... but it was almost empty. We paid 100 RMB for cover, which included an open bar, but there was no point in staying long. The music was okay, as were the drinks, but wallowing in alcohol is no good alternative to a night of raucous dancing. I really wanted to go to I Love Shanghai for Jäger Bombs Over Baghdad, but C'est la vie.

Last Friday, and the night before, we went to Muse 2, which was actually quite a lot of fun. 10 drinks for 100 RMB - it felt so good to rob the club owners. For $1.40 a drink, we... had a lot to drink. Claudio had 11 Screwdrivers, and I had 3 Screwdrivers, 1 Rum & Coke, and 4 beers. The music was good, plenty of pretty people to gawk at, but, I argue, nothing beats the cheapest bar in town...

aka the local convenience store. -M-

China's New Religion

2009-01-29T23:24:00.000-08:00

I've decided to title my review/essay on Philip Pan's Out of Mao's Shadow The Disharmonious Society - Dissidence, Resistance, and Apathy in the "People's Republic" of China.

Thank you to Philip Pan, Jung Chang, and the many other intellectuals who led me to naïvely believe that Chinese people are remarkably politically progressive (even politically aggressive) people. My experience here has taught me otherwise: Life here is about making money.

This is reflected in the celebration of the Chinese New Year. Much of the holiday revolves around family, but even more of it seems to focus on the prospect of making more money in the New Year. The most common greeting during the holiday is xin nian kuai le, meaning Happy New Year, but another important greeting is gong xi fa cai, which translates roughly to "make lots of money" according to Tissy. Unmarried relatives receive little red envelopes filled with money. During the first night to celebrate the beginning of the new year, the Bund was packed with vendors selling everything from light up ox horns to meat-on-a-stick to stuffed animals. People were lighting red lanterns writing their wishes on them for fiscal prosperity. And CCTV reminded everyone of the economic prosperity brought on by the new year. Of course, they neglected to acknowledge the deficits brought on by massive economic mobilization - consumerism fills the void.

When we visited Jing'an Temple, we watched a monk approach the driver of a Porsche that had arrived at the gate. The Porsche proceeded through the gate, parked, and then the driver walked out. The temple became a parking lot. And then this...

These 3 monks stood right by the Porsche for about 30 minutes, discussing, looking, probing, etc. How holy. -M-

Ni zai zuo shen me?

2009-01-29T22:57:00.001-08:00

I really need to get cracking with my Chinese. As Claudio would say, "Self, it's time to really learn some Chinese." In any case, I've progressed through 1/3 of the Rosetta Stone Applications available for Chinese. I hope to finish the entire series by the time I leave here. -M-

More People

2009-01-29T03:10:00.000-08:00

Tissy (continued)

I was almost finished with Tissy. I neglected to comment on the fact that she dresses quite stylishly. Her study of the fashion magazines piled at her cubicle would give one the impression that her commitment to style is purely casual; I am convinced, however, that she could walk you through any Marshalls and put together a snappy outfit for anyone by just briefly browsing through the clearance racks. Tissy succeeds in pursuing her scholarly interests and applies these learnings in everyday life while earning a salary for something else. A distinguished character is she.

Claudio

Claudio is my Italian roommate. He speaks German, Italian, Sicilian, English, Spanish, and French fluently and also speaks conversational Hindi. He is the most well-traveled person I know, and has grown up in Cologne, Germany, while often visiting his family in Sicily. He learned Hindi during a 6-week stint in Bangalore, a land he loves - his best friend lives there. Claudio received a 1.1 (maybe a 4.5 GPA by American standards?) on his Abitur, putting him second in his class at gymnasium. He was later offered a work-study program by McKinsey, a company that is renowned as Germany's best business consulting firm, in cooperation with the European Business School in Frankfurt. But he instead works for Lufthansa in pursuit of a degree in Aviation Management, or something along those lines, for which he receives a salary and degree and discounted travel. The catch is, he must work for Lufthansa for 2 years after he completes his degree; this he does not want to do. I don't think it's a bad deal, considering he receives top-notch work experience, and is paid for a degree, and gets to travel to Bangalore, Shanghai, Australia, and... pretty much everywhere. He once told me that he and his girlfriend were bored one day and they decided to fly to Barcelona for the day. They returned in the evening. Flights to Korea were available from Shanghai for about 100 euro, thanks to Claudio's connections with Lufthansa.

Claudio loves Italy, and he loves India - he's told me very much about both countries, and I only hope that I have taught him as much (about something?) as he has taught me (I have helped him with his chess and we've worked on some Chinese together). In any case, both of us have learned that we hate office work and that we both are more interested in diplomacy than in our former career plans. I, however, am very fond of writing, and Claudio does not enjoy it one bit. In fact, Claudio does not like school or office work at all. The other day, he told me that his girlfriend was playing the lottery for him. He asked me to pray that he won. I asked, "What would you do with all that money?" His reply: "Quit." He stated that he probably would not finish his degree and just live doing his own thing - bitches and coke. So I can't say I've prayed that he wins.

Claudio has an affinity for clubs, rivers, house music, and designer clothing, namely Armani, Gucci, and Dolce & Gabbana. You may mistake him for a Guido, but he's really his own brand of.... whatever. You can say the same about his English. He speaks English with a slight Indian accent, but you can also make out German and Italian influences in his speech (e.g. months becomes month, clothes becomes clothis, etc.)

I don't really understand him, but there's no doubt - he's instantly likable, always joking and willing to show you videos of comedians, people getting hurt, Jimmy Kimmel and Sarah Silverman, and his colleague vomiting live on Swedish television. Really heady stuff! He likes to talk, smile, and laugh, and I can't see anyone disliking him for not being personable or any other reason for that matter.

Girl I Danced with Last Night

Hi there. You were wearing a big loose T-shirt and black tights and Chucks. You had shorter hair and reminded me of a girl on whom I was once very keen. You dressed differently and carried yourself differently and danced better than most I'd say. I was impressed! I was wearing a loose gray sweater and tight black pants and was a bit drunk. I had fun. Maybe I'll see you at Muse 2 some other night, only fate will tell...

Beggar on the Bridge

Hey you. You're one of the few people I conversed with in a language I don't understand. Hannes and I split some Shmish with you, and we discussed what a fair price for the Shmish would be. I think we settled at 40, even though Hannes and I paid 51. You were a really nice guy. I think you wanted money, originally, but that was some damn good Shmish, wasn't it? You had a flat face, kind eyes, and fuzzy hair. For a beggar, I think you were in pretty good shape, and unremittingly friendly. Quite happy to have made your acquaintance! I hope you pop out of the shadows next time we go out to buy some Shmish. And I hope you're still getting by and your disarming countenance is still as effective as ever.

Guy Who Tried to Rob Me

Hey you. I can't say I'm your biggest fan (I'm sure you have few, if any), but you taught me two important lessons: 1) Don't talk on your phone while walking on the street and 2) Fear can stun you or cause you to flip out. You may flip out and be stunned, and this is what happened - here's the story:

I was talking to my mom on the phone when something compelled me to look down and I saw in my peripheral vision a hand right by my coat pocket. Immediately, I felt like I was injected with 10 syringes full of adrenaline. My heart was pounding so fast; I spun around and looked at this guy smoking a cigarette straight in the face. He looked kind of rugged and dark. He was wearing a brown leather jacket and had a friend in gray standing a few steps behind him. He just said, as I turned around "Lu?" or something along those lines. I was so shocked about the whole thing that I couldn't even make out what he said. I should have punched him in the face with all my might, but I felt almost paralyzed. I turned around, swallowed, and had a short, uncomfortable conversation with my mom. I didn't tell her what happened because she's already so worried about me.

Fear is a double-edged sword. It can either paralyze you, or it can shock you into taking action. If I wasn't on the phone, this probably wouldn't have happened, but if it had, and I had my hands free, this guy would be in real pain. In this case, every sinew of my body was screaming: kill this guy. On the other hand, I was so completely taken aback, my brain did not manage to connect the dots. It was as if my hormones and my thoughts were completely disconnected. It was something I had never experienced before. And for that, I am a little grateful. What I am not grateful about, however, is that your attempt to pick my pocket has made me wary of pretty much any lone man walking close to me. You've made me more distrustful of people whom I want to know and understand. Thanks.

American Expat at Red Beat

I met a short Georgian man at Red Beat on Tongren Lu, a road packed with bars packed with women that will keep you guessing: is she for hire or is she for real? He was 24, fresh out of Georgia Tech with a bachelor's in Engineering. Our interaction is summed up in the following:

At a seedy bar where 3 dancers coated in sequins and make-up (some sort of cross between the Spice Girls and strippers) were wooing a handful of drunken expats (free drinks all night! You can't beat that!), I was getting a beer when some American guy came by and gave me a high five saying "Woo! Yeah! This is fuckin' awesome!" I later discovered that he wasn't that drunk; I guess that's just his way of getting to know people. In any case, he asked where I'm from, I told him, I asked where he's from, what he does, etc. He imports wine and liquor, apparently, making pretty good money, but the "economy's shit right now. I mean, the American economy is like so fucked up." I asked him how he liked Shanghai (he's been here for two years). "It's fuckin' awesome, man." I asked him why. "Oh in like a totally materialistic way. The girls here are sooo hot and the parties are the best." Somehow, I was repulsed and charmed all at once. I dunno... there's something about Americans to which I am drawn. Perhaps it's the fact that the more I interact with them, the more I realize I am one (although I will have dual citizenship in a month when my German passport arrives). I saw two women in Ugg boots eating corn-on-the-cobb while walking inside a shopping mall the next day. At that moment, I was blown away. But thinking about it now, I'm smiling to myself. This man has taught me something: Americans are kind of cute, and I am one. There no denying either of these points.

The Texan

I came to some little orange bar with my roommates on open mic night for some cheap beer to discover you. You were a large, boisterous creature, excessively vulgar and talkative. Know you no restraint? Have you no sense of civility? Nope, but from what else would you derive your charm while managing to repulse any potential mate? You were a hearty, big-breasted Frau, I imagined you had drunk 5 pints by the time we got there. You told us that you graduated from high school at 16, went to China to study karate, lived in Hong Kong for 2 years, and then came to Shanghai to pursue your art. "I don't make much money, but I always have enough money for drinks and cigarettes, and that's what counts." You boasted about your lack of money and your indulgence in one swift statement (and your girth said so much more about your embrace of hedonism!) You quickly eyed Claudio, devouring your prey first with a bat of your eyelashes, and then with relentless, trivial chatter. Claudio reared back in fear, repulsion, and astonishment as you quickly made one audacious statement after the next. "I am the best singer in Shanghai." "Fuck Hong Kong." "My husband died." When I told her I was from LA, she bellowed "FUCK! Hold on!" and left, coming back ten minutes later, as if forgetting why she had left and who we were. Soon after, she left... and after an hour of her absence, she returned. This time, she sang. No, no... she... somethinged. It was "Hotel California," or something like it. This city must be where the worst singers in the world are banished, exiled from entertainment and all things (anything) wholesome.

I will continue this list when I get the chance again! -M-

La Dolce Vita

2009-01-27T02:54:00.000-08:00

La Dolce Vita

Life has been sweet lately.

On Sunday I didn't really do anything until 2:00, when Claudio, Stefan and I decided to have lunch at the Royal Meridien Shanghai across the street from us. There, we entered Favola, an Italian restaurant featuring an all-you-can eat menu until 2:30. We were seated at 2:20, where we proceeded to order 5 plates of pasta and 3 pizzas. I had a twelve inch with peppers, basil, onions, and some other things along with Spaghetti Carbonara and Penne. I asked them to bring us three bowls of bread and then I ordered an iced tea, a coffee, and an espresso. We managed to eat everything, and I had another iced tea. I had three desserts: a green tea mousse-cake, panna cotta, and a piece of coffee cake. The whole meal cost each of us 135 RMB, or about $20. Well worth it. The 2 hour ordeal was followed by a pleasant walk through People's Park and good conversation.

That night marked the beginning of Chinese New Year. Claudio wasn't feeling too well after all the eating, and he's also a bit afraid of fireworks. Steffan was out at a dinner party with some friends. But Hannes, the 30 year old guy who sat next to Claudio on their flight to Shanghai, came down to Nanjing Xilu and was ready to have some fun. I met him at our apartment, and we proceeded to the Bund, picking up some beers from the convenience store on the way (an Asahi for myself and a Suntory for Hannes). On our walk, we ran into the Shmish salesmen selling their strange wares by the bridge that leads over to the Bund. I was excited, having seen the Shmish earlier with Claudio, and convinced Hannes that we should buy some. Considering we had little idea of what Shmish was, we decided to make our purchase from the man at the end of the line, who had already sold most of his Shmish. This man was of truly indeterminate ethnic origin. Hannes guessed that he was Turkish, I guessed he was Uzbek or Mongolian - he could have been from Tunis or Estonia or Ukraine or Paraguay - my guess is as good as yours. He kept reminding us, "Von kilo, seventy, von kilo seventy," indicating that one kilogram of Shmish would cost us 70 RMB. The top of the Shmish was covered with walnuts and some pretty nasty-looking gummy candy. The stuff was unbelievably dense and had probably frozen quite a lot after sitting outside for days. Shmish man brought out a huge cleaver and slammed it into the Shmish, later pressing it down with all of his weight. After about 2 minutes of struggling, he placed it in a plastic bag and brought out his measuring stick. We paid 50, not really knowing how much to pay and happy to help out Shmish man, a strange man defined by his own brand of of happy seriousness, a man who stood outside all night on Chinese New Year trying to make a living.

We proceeded to a pedestrian bridge over the street, where we ran into a beggar who wanted, I assume, some money. Hannes instead broke off a piece of Shmish for him after a long (theatrical?) struggle - the stuff was literally as dense as rock. But it was delicious! We discussed with the beggar a good price for the Shmish and settled at 40 RMB, a price that wasn't disappointing at all. You can haggle with these people, people who are struggling to survive, over $1.50, or you can concede. You may feel defeated, but in letting them have this little victory, you're letting yourself win them over, letting the compassionate triumph over misers. It feels good to lose, in this case. And then we had a pleasant interaction with our beggar friend. When people let the best in themselves come out, they're doing themselves a favor, but more importantly, they're doing everyone they interact with a favor. Too cool...

So we got to the Bund.

It was filled with Chinese people. People selling candied fruits on sticks, meat-on-a-stick, toys, fluffy ox hats, light-up plastic ox horns, firecrackers, floating paper lanterns, and little touristy paper-weight-type-things. The view was awesome, but watching the people scrambling about, with some struggling to sell things and some enjoying time with their families, was even better. Some say Chinese New Year is all about money, others say it's about family. It was interesting to see which seemed to be more important. More on that later...

We got some more beer and then walked around until 12:00 when the fireworks started. Before that, we saw fireworks going off on the streets while the remnants of others smoked. We expected a real grand finale after seeing a couple of videos on youtube, we were expecting total chaos. But actually, from the Bund, things were quite calm, except for the firecrackers that went off several meters from us. You could turn your head and feel your eardrums being hit with air each time one went off. Ouch. It was all quite spectacular, and I got a pretty nasty headache. We started walking home a little while after. We met Claudio there and headed off to Windows Too, one of our favorite bars offering 15 RMB drinks. When we got there, though, we realized that there was an 80 RMB cover that included one (only one!) free drink. When asked, I made it clear that I didn't want to go - I had already protested that I wasn't really up for it since I had a pretty bad headache. I hadn't even slept yet and I already felt hungover from all the beer and noise and lights and crowds - it was only 2 when we got to Windows Too. So we left. I felt guilty and paid for the taxi and bought Claudio 3 beers. I feel like a spoilsport, but when asked my opinion, I'm going to be honest. There's no sense in doing otherwise (in fact, I would consider it cowardly to do so), and I assume that when a friend asks you for your opinion, he wants the truth. Knowing this, I still couldn't help but feel guilty.

On Monday, I didn't do too much. I went out and got a meat bun and some poppy seed bread for breakfast. I looked through the classifieds in our living room and Claudio found a cockroach in his toothbrush recharging device. I sat around and watched a movie. We planned to get a massage at Dragonfly which was quite strange. We (Hannes, Claudio, and I) each chose the Chinese massage for $20 which started off with having the masseuse press her hands in a diagonal from the middle of your back to the buttcheek and opposite shoulder blade. The massage was quite nice; it involved having each body part rubbed, starting with the neck, ending with the scalp. My butt was rubbed a lot, and there was a lot of poking involved as well. I'm not complaining, though. That was a great massage (and my first).

My butt's been touched a lot, lately. Which brings me to what I'd like to discuss next: people. Here is a list of all of the people I've met since I've been here and a short description of my impressions of them. Let's start with Kevin.

Kevin

Kevin's a bespectacled 22-year old who works in another room at my office. He has fuzzy hair; it's as if he had had a buzz cut, but his hair is two-three inches long. He has an underbite and speaks English with a lisp. His English isn't very good, but I admire his persistence in attempting to communicate with me. He's a very friendly guy; I first talked to him (actually, I first realized he existed) on the way back from my company's holiday dinner where he asked me about my hobbies, what I'm studying in school, where I'm from, etc. On Saturday, my last day of work, he asked me "How will you deal with your lunch today?" I told him that I wasn't sure, and he invited me to have some xiaolong (dumplings) with him outside. This sounded like a great idea, and by lunch time we got down to business to eat some tasty dumplings. While we waited for the elevator, we were joined by Lynn, another colleague of mine, and her friend, whose name I do not know. They chatted for a bit, and then Kevin turned to me and said "Sh sinx yu er hamsum" and gave me a little pat on the butt. "What?" I said, and he enunciated "She thinks you are handsome" and gave me the same pat on the butt. I turned to the girl and said "thank you." It was quite awkward. We then walked over to the restaurant, which turned out to be a remarkably dingy but crowded place where food was dished up in orange plastic bowls. While we went to sit down, I tried to squeeze in, and Kevin gave me another pat on the butt (as a means of encouraging me, perhaps?). I managed to make it and ate my jiaozi (no xiaolong) before anyone finished his/her meal. They talked in Chinese for the most part. So I ate, for the most part. We then left and walked around for a bit, ending our jaunt with a return to the office. Kevin informed me that he would show me where the best place to eat xiaolong was over the holiday, and I plan to send him a text tomorrow to take him up on the offer. Kevin's taught me two things: flattery is a very common thing among the Chinese (he said I was "so smart" after I said something to him in Chinese) and touching another guy's butt is a great way to show another guy you want to be friends, and it's absolutely necessary to do so when you want to tell someone a girl finds you attractive. Very good to know.

Lynn

I maintain a regular correspondence with Lynn because I work with her to email 50 intellectual property law firms per day. We have to make sure we don't email the same firm twice, and because we use the same list, we need to be careful and cooperate. She is a pretty small creature, also bespectacled, but very squinty. It looks like she always has her eyes closed. Her face has a few pimples and she has pleasant cheekbones and pale skin. Her hair is short and black, and she tends to wear a lime green parka. She tends to shuffle around instead of walk. She's really quite pleasant, somehow. The reason why I'm not completely happy with her, however, is because she won't speak with me. We chat lots and lots because it's easy for her to translate whatever I write, but I believe she is so shy and apprehensive about speaking English that any time we actually share is pretty awkward, and at times, unbearable. At one point, I left the office with her and her friend. We made a stop to get some 珍珠奶茶 (milk tea) and they wouldn't talk to me. Occasionally, I would ask one of them a question, or try and speak some Chinese (wo hen leng), but they would give me a short answer in English, and then continue speaking rapidly in Chinese. I tried to pay for my milk tea, but Lynn insisted that she pay, and I insisted that I pay, and she eventually won. I consider her a friend, and I am convinced that her buying me a milk tea indicates that she feels the same way. But it's tough to be friends with someone who doesn't talk to you. MSN Messenger is a godsend and a curse. C'est la vie.

Lynn's friend

I still don't know her name, and considering that she doesn't talk to me probably won't change this any time soon. She maintains an exclusive correspondence with Lynn - I've only seen them talk to each other, me, and Kevin, on that aforementioned occasion. She wears a white parka, has a darker complexion and lighter, brownish hair. I really can't say much about her.

Tissy

我爱我姐姐 Tissy's ridiculously (and inexplicably) nice to me. She brings me food every day and sometimes drinks, including chocolate, chocolate-covered almonds, oolong tea, oranges, bananas, chicken feet (in vacuum-sealed plastic), beef jerky, cucumber-flavored chips, pomelo, little oranges, kumquats, and I once had the chance to try her strange daily tea mixture, which features dried chrysanthemums and dried Chinese berries. In fact, she didn't work on Saturday, so on Friday she brought me some chips and oolong tea. Her desk is to the right of mine, with a nice view of some skyscrapers and a freeway and the eternally smoggy sky. I think she's kind of a health freak. Her desk is equipped with everything you could need. In fact, she could probably live in the office. She has a humidifier between our desks, cabinets extending from either side, a stack of menus and magazines to her right and some more fashion magazines at the corner of her cubicle. Her best friend, Rance, walks up to her about once an hour, and they look at the computer and talk about something and giggle a little bit. Tissy tends to get up and walk around quite often. Tissy puts in a great deal of time in arranging orders for everyone when it's time to have lunch delivered.I'm under the impression that Tissy works about 20% of the time she's in the office. But I don't really care. I adore her. She has a little tummy, long, well-kept, black hair, a little squished nose, and a great complexion. You can often see her looking at her compact, and her attentiveness definitely pays off: she wins the prize for most beautiful co-worker. I guessed she was 23, but it turns out she's 28. Every day, she asks me what Chinese I've learned, and we go over some of the words I'm learning. She'll look over my little word collection Moleskine, correct anything that's not right, and make sure I know how to pronounce the words. With her tutelage, I've expanded my vocabulary and learned some very helpful phrases like "I want to go...." and "Happy New Year" and "Make lots of money during the New Year" and "Here's to your health." When she shares fruit with me, she'll teach me the name and then ask me the next day how to say it. She's quite excited that I'm making such efforts to learn Chinese and that I'm willing to eat anything at least once. Tissy's made certain that I know the words for big sister (jie jie), little brother (di di), big brother (ge ge), and little sister (mei mei). Tissy reminds me that I am everyone's di di (I'm the youngest person in the office), and people ask me how my big sister is treating me. Honestly, I can't imagine anyone being more helpful or inclusive. I really appreciate Tissy's help, and I tried to express that by bringing her her favorite fruit, durian. It turns out durian is really stinky, and she's the only one who likes to eat it. My boss threw it away the day after I brought it into the office, and Jekyll told me the next day "Matt, Pls don't bring anymore durian to the office or anything like this. Alain does not like this." I felt really bad about trying to do someone a favor and annoying so many other people. I just hope Tissy appreciated the gesture; while she gives me food every day (even when I protest), I often only show up with some bread or chocolates to offer her maybe twice a week. But nothing I have done has reciprocated sufficiently. I feel obligated to do her some sort of favor as a token of my gratitude, but I have no idea what it is I would want to do. Whatever it is I do, I can't help but wonder... will it be enough? Suggestions are welcome. Tissy has taught me that some form of filial piety still exists in China. Her role as my jie jie may serve as some means of explaining her boundless kindness. She is the big sister I never had. Mom, why didn't you tell me that you and dad adopted some Chinese girl before I was born? What did you do with her when I got sliced out of you? You have a lot of explaining to do!

This list is going to take me quite a lot of time to complete. I will update it later. -M-

People and Places and the Year of the Ox

2009-01-26T20:18:00.000-08:00

2009: Year of the Ox!

West Nanjing Road

"I'm a peasant."

Buildings of Puxi with Pudong in the Background

People's Park with the Urban Planning Center in the Bottom Corner and Some Skyscrapers

Chinese New Year

2009-01-25T21:39:00.000-08:00

Fireworks exploding on the streets, between buildings

The shmish man cuts a piece of his shmish!

Shmish man measure shmish... "von kilo, seventy, von kilo, seventy"

Happy New Year - Paper Lantern with Wishes for the New Year (I assume that if it goes up in flames, so do your wishes)

Sightseeing Tunnel - Filled with Beggars, Scammers, and Artists

Shmish?

Hannes and a Beggar - After buying a kg of shmish, a beggar came up to us asking for money and we broke off a piece for him. We talked to the beggar about a fair price for the shmish and settled at 40RMB, 10RMB less than what we paid. -M-

2009-01-20T05:06:00.000-08:00

Obelisk

Durian

2010 Shanghai Expo Pavilion

Tissy cuts a Durian

People and the Cheesiest Truth

2009-01-20T00:54:00.000-08:00

Have you ever felt so happy that you thought you might lose control of yourself? As if you jumped into the air with excitement, only to feel your head tap a ceiling of insanity?

Lately I've been dangerously ecstatic. That kind of happiness is pretty scary.

Here's why:

1) I'm having a great time hanging out with my co-workers.
2) I'm having fun going to clubs, bars, and parties on the weekends and exploring new places every day.
3) I'm trying new foods every day.
4) I've been granted another internship at "That's Shanghai," the most prominent magazine catering to expats in Shanghai.
5) I might go to Bangkok next week. Or Seoul. Or Tokyo. Or Taipei.
6) I'm thinking fondly of my friends and family back home (and abroad) every day. Wanda. Katarina. Stefan. Pepper. Kitty. Papa. Mum. Nikole. Taylor and Emma. Connor and Rigel. Zack. Andy. Thanks to all of you for making me realize how much I enjoy your company when I'm deprived of it!

This is something Claudio told me that I initially couldn't understand. He told me that while traveling, his experiences hardly mean anything compared to the friends he's found. It may sound cheesy, but the more I think about it, the more I come to appreciate it. I have come to appreciate the Chinese for all of the progress they've made in the past few decades, but in my observations I am often as frustrated as I am pleased. I see people spitting. I see people who cram into the subway as people push out (in Germany, the people waiting to board wait until those departing have left, then they shuffle in). I see people begging. But I also see people singing in the park. I see people tapping their elders on the shoulder when they see an empty seat on the subway. I see a passerby pick up a beggar's bowl that's been tipped over, placing it rightside up. Seeing people at their worst and best tends to mean mixed feelings. But at this point, I think I'm just happy to be able to be here to watch and learn. -M-

Best. Day. Ever.

2009-01-15T05:43:00.001-08:00

More to come tomorrow.

This was the day I ate frog stew, a donkey meat dumpling, jellyfish, salted goose, cow stomach, pig tongue, pork blood soup, a sea snail, lotus fruit, and, best of all..... fried snake! The snake was soooooooooo tasty! 好吃！非常好吃！

Don't Look Back...

2009-01-14T20:54:00.001-08:00

The other day, on the subway, there was an old woman, her daughter, and her daughter's daughter. The old woman had white hair with fading streaks of black, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses balanced on her nose, and wore a dark purple overcoat; the daughter, a young woman, wore a lila overcoat; the granddaughter wore a bright pink parka. The granddaughter and grandmother interacted with each other, briefly. The old woman wiped some dirt off the girl's parka. The mother and grandmother did not look at each other. Then the subway arrived, and the passengers poured out. I lost sight of them, for a moment, but as I squeezed into the subway, I saw to my right the same old woman in the same dark purple overcoat. Two seats to her left, the grandmother's daughter sat with the young girl in her lap, the older generation separated from the new one. A young couple sat between the separated family.

The old woman looked ahead, focusing on nothing in particular. She had seen things few could imagine happening in China. She sat by herself.

Carl

2009-01-14T16:52:00.001-08:00

I bought orange juice from a woman named Carl today.

And I had donkey meat for lunch.

柚子: King of the Grapefruit

2009-01-13T03:01:00.000-08:00

Sleepy man

"Shanghai Street of the Early 1900s"

Food

I thought it would be fun to talk about food today. I usually have lunch, which is delivered, at my desk, like the rest of the men in my office; the females convene and "gossip," according to one of my colleagues. According to her, the activity is reflective of ancient Chinese feudal values, epitomized by the proverb that goes something like "Men and women shouldn't mingle or else gossip will abound." In any case, I don't mind, and I talk with my colleagues quite a bit anyhow, so it's good to take a break and chat with friends every now and then on the 'puter. Lunch consists of the following: A meat dish, rice, and soup (usually some sort of broth with stuff in it) with an apple or tangerine for dessert. Today's lunch was special, however. But before I get into that, let me talk about some of my other meals here.

On my first day of work, I went out with three of my co-workers to a cafeteria-style place, where I had some cakey egg dish, sweet pineapple pork, steamed bok choy, and some other dishes. My colleagues were impressed, to say the least, by the amount I ate. The next day, I had diced chicken and peanuts bathed in chile oil with tomato-egg soup. After that, I had some sort of beef-and-greens dish with a seaweed-tofu type broth. The next day, I had beef (or something like it?) that tasted nothing like I had ever had before. It was so tender and rubbery, it felt gross, putting it in my mouth; I felt like a child putting something in his mouth that he knew he shouldn't. But I ate it all the same. It came with the same watery tomato-egg broth. The next day, I had a pot of spicy Sichuan beef with bean curd vermicelli and bok choy. The spicy broth concoction was really pretty spicy, and I think my co-workers expected me to choke on it; a liaison from the Gossipy Girls Gang came by and asked if I liked it. But I downed all of it with the aid of just a cup of water. The next day, I had sweet-and-sour beef. This was one of the best dishes I've had yet; it wasn't like American sweet-and-sour. The beef wasn't fried in a batter, and the sauce wasn't a thick, glutinous, bright red but a softer, thinner sauce that was sweeter than sour, but not as sweet as the American version. The beef was tender, but not too tender; I could actually bite into it, and the fact that it was fried gave it a satisfying crunch. That day we also ordered milk tea (珍珠奶茶) (we did today as well!). Keep in mind that these meals (rice, meat, soup, fruit) cost about $1.40 each, some costing maybe $2.00. I think by this time, it was the weekend (or at least Friday), and here's where I got to tool around and have some traditional fare.

Friday night was Indian, as I mentioned in the last post, and the day after, I went to have some jiaoza (饺子), served in broth at some sketchy hole in the wall. The only people eating inside were the cooks and waiters, and the ceiling must have been about 2 meters from the ground. I seriously thought this place was owned by the mafia, and at one point, a guy in a suit walked down and surveyed the place before walking out. After we exchanged some ni haos, Stefan and I asked for some chá. "Chá?" "Wo yao chá..." "Chá," they replied. Then they brought us our hand-crimped jiaozi in broth. They were delicious! Stuffed with pork and vegetables, I ate mine down in a hurry. We then walked out and down the street and saw an old woman with burn marks on her hands next to a steaming wooden barrel. She smiled. She seemed to be the kindest, most genuine person I had seen on the street. She lifted the top for us, revealing delicious treasures: steaming buns, which I assumed were filled with pork. I said "yi" and pointed to one, which she quickly bagged with dextrous hands. $.15. An honest price for one of the tastiest treats I've had here. And she wasn't like the other vendors - she looked up and waved goodbye after the transaction was completed. This little old creature, blessed with deft hands that must have been burnt countless times as she cooked, smiled with crooked, yellowing teeth. Her balding head showed bits of scalp, but it did nothing to detract from her beauty. You have to look closely and carefully to find the gems in this city.

Anyways, that night we ate at KFC at the insistence of my roommate. We were also in a bit of a rush to get things going. On Sunday, I had one of my best meals yet with all of my roommates at some empty place advertising "English Menu." I ordered some more jiaoza (饺子), but this time I had 6 steamed pork shrimp dumplings served in a bamboo basket on top of dried pine needles. They were sweet and savory and just absolutely delicious... I ate them in a hurry. That was Sunday, and on Sunday night, Claudio the Italian ordered pizza and I joined in (more indulgence!). It was a pretty authentic Italian pizza, but I could've survived a whole week off of what it cost (68 RMB + delivery charges).

The next day was Monday, and I had that same peanut-chile-chicken meal. Nothing special. The next day, however, Tuesday, proved to be a fantastic gastronomic adventure. I skipped my usual bowl of muesli, the German oats-and-stuff cereal and then went to work. I eagerly anticipated the arrival of lunch - I had been thinking about hongshao pork all morning, and I knew we were ordering from a new restaurant this time. This could be my chance, I thought. I talked with co-worker about beggar's chicken, Huangzhou cai, and then looked up a number of other dishes online. But lunchtime came... and Jekyll revealed that he was having dumplings. "Dumplings?!" "Yes," he nodded, "fried dumplings." I said, immediately, "I'll have those." My other colleague, Tissy (in China you can just pick your English name, which is really cool in some cases and completely not cool in others), suggested that I have pork with rice, and I said, "Yes, but I want jiaoza as well." And she said, "Then we order all of it!" Jekyll objected. "I don't think you will eat all of it." But Tissy had faith in me. She nodded, and when we went to the girl who was ordering for everyone, she just nodded away any further protests. I must say, Tissy's faith was well placed.

By the time the food arrived, I was quite hungry. Tissy helped me carry my food to my desk, and 2 or 3 other colleagues surrounded me in helping me prepare. We laid down the newspapers, got a bowl for the vinegar dipping sauce for the dumplings, set this down, opened that, got some chopsticks, covered this, laid that down. Tony, who was looking at the food laid out before me, shook his head at Tissy, and then expressed his doubts about my ability to eat all of it. Tissy just nodded her head and responded curtly. And then I was ready, and everyone rushed back to his/her meal.

This collation cost me about $3.50.

I looked at the dumplings. They were twisted in seemingly perfect uniformity, their bottoms burnt dark brown. I lifted the first one with my chopsticks and bit into it. Success! Sweet, heavenly success! The soupy, pasty, delicious pork was slurped up almost instantly, and I was ready for my next dumpling. I bit into it with the same fervor, but this time, the outcome was a bit different....

As I chomped down, a slurry of succulent soup sprayed (literally) out of my dumpling, onto my sweater, my corduroy sportsjacket, the phone, the desk, the wall, and my slacks. I don't think it could have been messier. I just sort of looked up in disbelief, almost waiting for a co-worker to notice. I don't think I've felt so helpless since I've been here. But it was really pretty funny, too. I just sort of smiled, and eventually, Tony looked up at me and said something to Tissy, who said something to Jekyll, who said something to the guy next to him, and seemingly instantly, I was surrounded by my colleagues as they wiped the phone and desk, scrubbed the wall, removed my jacket, and brought some more tissues. Then Jekyll apologized: "I'm sorry, I did not teach you to eat the dumplings. I will now teach you to eat them. You have to bite small first. Then you drink the soap, and then you eat it. I will watch you." This time, I carefully followed his instructions, and there were no problems. I explained to him that the second time, I used the same technique I had used for my first dumpling, but the outcomes were completely different. But the initial problems I had with the dumplings were replaced with delicious success as I quickly downed them with the vinegar. I moved onto the dumplings in broth with bean curd vermicelli and quickly downed that as well. Then, I moved onto the pork with rice, half of a pickled egg (Nikole - pickled eggs!), and some salty grass-like greens. The pork was the most disgusting thing I've had since I've been here. It was bathing in an ultra-thick, ultra-sweet vinegar sauce. If you ask me, meat should not taste like candy with vinegar. I am not a picky eater, but I could not eat this. I ate everything else, but the pork... was repulsive. I ate 3 pieces and just could not bring myself to finish it. Jekyll and Tissy asked what was wrong, and I told them I did not like it.

Jekyll: "I thought you liked sweet?"

Me: "But this is too sweet."

Tissy: "You cannot eat it?"

Me: "No, it is just much too sweet."

And that was that, or so I thought. I asked Tissy after lunch what she was eating yesterday. It was something totally bizarre - I had never seen it before. It was in some sort of white, gummy shell, some sort of gigantic fruit about the size of a football. She racked her brain for a good 30 seconds until she realized what I was talking about. 柚子 (youzi). She quickly typed in youzi to the translator, and the word "pomelo" came up. I had never had a pomelo before. And so, she said, "I will bring one." She then left, went to the "fruit store" (I asked her where she bought it), and came back with the huge fruit (green, in its rind) and a bunch of bananas. She sectioned the rind, then peeled it back to reveal that strange white... thing. Then she sectioned it again, and handed me a piece. She said something to Jekyll, and they said "skin" and then "peel." I looked up and said "peel?" "Peel," they replied. And I nodded yes. Tissy then went around the room, handing out pomelo to everyone.

It was delicious. Grapefruit doesn't compare. Even more meditative preparation is required of pomelos, and the reward is far greater. Each section has its own sort of case, which you have to peel back to reveal the translucent yellow-green fruit. It is sweeter than grapefruit, without any of the bitterness. I was so full and excited at this point. Wow. What a delicious day.

By nightfall, though, my colleagues suggested that we order milk tea. After much deliberation, and with Jekyll and Tissy's help, I ordered the Pomelo-Juice-Tea, which was something like hot, sweet grapefruit juice with tea (something I don't plan on drinking again). Tissy asked if I wanted a cake, and I said "sure" and ordered a dense, chocolatey, "English" cake. I detected hints of coffee too.

Then I went home and had Subway with Claudio. I figured that was enough Chinese food for one day. And I ended it with Tissy's banana.

Yum.

-M-

Everyday Intimacy (in Public) and Curbed Chaos

2009-01-09T18:33:00.000-08:00

In People's Park

Flying Kites outside of Shanghai Art Museum

Sardines

People are weird. Every day, thousands of strangers get intimate with each other on the subway (and in the subway station for that matter). Thousands get together and are squeezed together like canned sardines. Honestly, I have never been so close to so many people. And when the day is done, when people have finished work and are ready to have some fun, they dish out wads of cash to repeat the process in a club. What's with that?

So much to tell... As of last Sunday, I have three roommates. They are Claudio, a Italian-German student doing training with Lufthansa, Stefan, a German studying Chinese at Mandarin House, and Eve, a Frenchman working in finances and such. It's been quite fun, actually, getting to know these folks. On Wednesday, Stefan, Claudio, and I went to some pretty nondescript (I forget the name) attempting-to-be trendy bar with a mainly Chinese clientele. There were a few other expats who really looked pretty out of place. I'd say the ages of the patrons ranged from 18 (17) to maybe 30-35 and the cocktail waitresses were dressed ridiculously in boots and baggy sweaters or T-shirts. Charming. Music was okay. The interesting thing, though, is that this bar is located right next to Plaza 66, one of Shanghai's tallest buildings home to Gucci, Versace, Louis Vuitton, and a number of other designer merchandise stores. We must've gotten there at around 9, but just outside of this ritzy of ritzy buildings were little children who would sing and dance hoping that you may put an RMB or two in their dirty, worn styrofoam cups, with their mothers following closely behind. These children will come right next to you, actually walk into the middle of your group, and begin singing. And then some of the older beggars would just come to us, saying "hallo, hallo," "money, money." Outside of Gucci you find people (real humans) facing (seemingly) unbearable poverty. This is a bizarre city, a bizarre neon-stained reflection of all the beauty and shame of Chinese capitalism. What to do...

And then last night...

We first had some Indian food at Indian Kitchen. I had chicken biryani with gravy, which was actually pretty tasty (albeit not so spicy) with a Kingfisher I've never actually had anything like Kingfisher, it's a very light, almost tasteless beer that is the financial foundation of one of India's richest men, an owner of an airline, supporter of F1 racing, etc. The Kitchen, in any case, is right in the middle of the French Concession, so we got to walk around a bit as we searched for a taxi and see some of its sights. A pretty neat part of town!

After that, we went to Babyface, near People's Park Square. I haven't been to a real club in years, and this was quite an experience. Before I got out of the taxi, a beggar opened the door and (more or less) attacked. Lining the streets of Babyface (it was around midnight) were people selling snacks and DVDs. What can you do?

The club was actually pretty well done: there were two dance floors, one for poppy remixes of Hip-Hop and Top 40s and another room with DJs playing trance. There weren't really dance floors, just little openings among tables where people were packing themselves together as tightly as possible and gyrating their hips. The lighting was great, as was the foggy, smoky, posh and modern interior. I can't say the same about the overpriced drinks and cover, though. A watery Screwdriver for 45 RMB? And a Heineken for 50 RMB!? My, my, although almost everything may come cheap in China, the two things that certainly don't are drinks and designer/brand-name clothes and accessories.

In any case, Babyface is very popular among the expats; there were more than a few dorky Americans shaking their stuff, and a hilariously drunk (and vulgar) Australian whose antics prevented him from getting a taxi or getting back into the club. I was also bewildered by the old people here - on the dance floor, there was more than one person old enough to be my father. If you're old, I think bars are totally kosher. But a disco? You have to draw the line somewhere. There were also more than a handful of tweenish creatures crawling about, and every now and then someone passed out at his/her table. I gather, Chinese people aren't the best drinkers. Nor are they really the best dancers, which isn't to say there weren't some diamonds in the rough. All-in-all, the whole experience seemed to be an awkward mixture of Americans new to clubbing, middle-aged white dudes, European Guidos, white-collar Chinese, and Chinese who've been going to clubs much too long... and the occasional passed out girl.

The last thing I noticed about the club was that security (dressed as hotel porters) were everywhere, and more than happy to tell you that you can't bring drinks on the dance floor, that you can't sit at this table without paying for it, even if you're invited to join and make the acquaintance of the people sitting there, and you can't go this way past the bar, and so forth. That's one thing I've noticed about Shanghai since I've been here. Control. You can jaywalk right in front of a police officer, and he'll tell you "Nope, you can't do that" and he may even blow his whistle at you. But really, he's just standing around telling people they're doing something wrong (which they tend to do anyways). An officer directing traffic will blow his whistle and move his hands in an attempt to orchestrate order, but bikes will ride on roads and sidewalks as their drivers see fit, cars will turn when and where they can, and drivers will change lanes when they feel like it. All these officials and security guards are trying to maintain some order, but I don't think anyone doubts the fact that this city's chaos and opulence (and accompanying decrepitude) are beyond actual control. This force just does its best to keep things from getting too out of hand. Whatever that means ("too out of hand") is beyond my grasp. And that's the way it is. It's probably not the best way (and here's where I give the US some credit), but most people get by. And the cream rises to the top. What happens at the bottom is swept under the rug as people (like myself) go out to eat, drink, and dance. Fun.

Tea Ceremonies and Sex Massages

2009-01-03T02:29:00.000-08:00

View from my apartment

Pictures of my room

Kitchen

I am so content with myself.

I had a rough day yesterday, and last night for that matter. But I prepared rice and curry last night for myself, both of which were satisfactory, considering I had neither measuring cups nor directions in a language I understand. My guesswork paid off, and I polished off the meal with an Asahi "Super-Dry" left over by the people who used to live here and ate cookies while watching Chinese TV in my apartment's living room. The beer is fresh and delicious (not skunked!). Two ladies are making Chinese pastries on the TV and some guy is being interviewed.

I was walking around town yesterday and just got out of the People's Park, a big park in Shanghai when someone stopped me and said "hello, where are you from?" It was a pretty Chinese girl in a purple parka with 3 others, a male and two females who were probably in their early 20s. "I'm from Los Angeles," I said. They told me right off the back that I was so slim, not like those American women with 'hamburger bodies.' They told me I looked like a supermodel or something. "Very blue eyes, so beautiful!" "We like your nose, Chinese girls love big nose!"

Yeah, so I felt pretty uncomfortable, but I thought it might be fun to lead them on, or, if they really weren't trying to scam me and actually just wanted to be friends, I would find out by testing the waters.

After we talked for a bit, they told me "Oh, we're going to a Chinese tea ceremony, recommended by a friend. Would you like to come?" I said sure, and before I knew it, we were walking underneath an underpass and out again. On the way over there, I told one of the girls I didn't have any money. She replied "Maybe you should just take a look." I realized that we were right by my apartment. We walked into a mall across from my apartment building and then upstairs and down a passageway. I got a bad feeling at that point. We got to the "tea ceremony" place, which didn't really reveal anything except another hallway with bamboo wallpaper and a little counter with a hostess in traditional Chinese garb. At that point I told them

"Oh shoot, I forgot I have to meet a friend. Let me check the time."

I looked at my cell phone.

"Yeah, I have to go. I'm going to be late."

"But Chinese tea ceremony!" they replied.

"No, I'm sorry I have to go. Let me have your numbers so we can hang out later," I said.

After a pause, the pretty girl replied "We don't have phones in Shanghai area(er), we can't use phones in Shanghai."

"Oh," I said, "Okay, well I have to go."

"Then we'll just enjoy our tea ceremony," the male replied.

My, my were they pushy. This is almost exactly the kind of thing my internship agency warned me about. In retrospect, though, perhaps it would have been good to accept their offer. If they tried to get me to pay for anything, which probably would have been the case, I could have just left or said "I'm calling the police." If they resisted, I could have probably taken them on, unless the guy had a weapon. Seriously, these people are little creatures.

And the night before that, I was propositioned by some guy on the street for sex massage with Asian girl, an offer I could and did refuse.

Today, however, was my best day yet. I went to the Shanghai Art Museum, and I must say, I really was impressed by the Chinese paintings, porcelain, and jade artifacts. It was a very enjoyable experience, and I unhurriedly wandered around by myself. The quietude, the openness... it made for a meditative moment. After perusing and sauntering, I indulged and had a pot of Oolong Tea with a piece of Green Tea Creme Cake while I wrote in my journal. Then I took the subway to my workplace, to make sure I knew the route. It was a great day for a long walk, a brisk 47 degrees, and people were out flying kites.

But the day was not without its scarier moments. I took a picture for a couple and another two for a pair of girls. The couple told me that they heard that the tea ceremony was supposed to be really good. And as I got off the subway from work, a girl called out to me "Hello, Ni hao, where are you from?" All the wiser, I kept walking, only to turn around later and see her watching me. As I continued up the stairs a young man whom I never saw asked "Where are you study?" These supposed scammers are overtly systematic - and now I know to watch out. I am a target, I'm a foot taller than most of the people I'm surrounded by, and couldn't look less Chinese (well, that's probably an exaggeration, but it's not far from the truth either). In too many eyes, I am a stupid, wealthy, white boy born and bred in Americana, ready to be robbed, ridiculed, and rebuked. That being said....

The thought crossed my mind that I actually was being robbed today. When I got back to my apartment, I inserted my key, only to find that the door was already being unlocked from the inside. I tried to open the door and look through the peephole, and seeing someone there, I stepped back and clenched my fists. The door opened to two strangers. One was my landlord's wife, and the other was my new roommate, Claudio, a German-Italian student here doing aviation business training or something of that nature. Finally, a roommate! It's time to have some fun! -M-

xiangwonin

2008-12-31T23:24:00.000-08:00

I've decided to title this blog xiangwonin, which means provincials in Shanghainese, as a means of referring to myself as well as the denizens of Shanghai. According to Andrew Forbes, author of the National Geographic Traveler: Shanghai, the Shanghainese "like to stay one step ahead of other Chinese," whom they largely consider to be provincial, considering their lack of taste and sophistication. But is this thinking in itself not provincial?

Negative connotations cast shadows on the idea of provincialism, but I think there is something nice about the idea of staying put in one place. Is there something wrong with the fact that many (if not most) people lack the ability, means, or time to travel, move, and explore? Is there something wrong with wanting to stay put in comfort? Most people don't seem to think so, and... I must admit that I am more interested in comfort than adventure as I had previously imagined myself to be. Below are two letters I wrote in asking an acquaintance here for advice. These letters will provide some introductory information as well as a description of the problem I was confronted with two days ago.

Hello Andrew,

I am Carol's grandson, Matt. Carol and your mom provided me with your contact information and instructed me to contact you when I arrived in Shanghai. I am currently working as an intern with IPWell, an International Intellectual Property Law Firm. I understand that you and your wife are currently vacationing in Japan. I was in Japan about 4 years ago for a 10-day trip. For how long will you be there? Where will you be visiting?

Although we have not yet met, and although I may be a bit too frank in admitting this, I have come across a bit of a snag in my plans here and was wondering if you could offer me some advice. The law firm I was originally supposed to work with, Z&H, ran out of desks; consequently, the internship agency that has made arrangements for me, China Abroad, Inc., has arranged another internship for me with IPWell. IPWell, in turn, has offered me free residence at a dormitory which I would share with 7 of my colleagues. I would share a room with 3 others, and the dormitory is pretty dirty, messy, barren, and an hour away via subway. This dorm, however, would allow me to experience firsthand the way many Chinese live and would give me the chance to better my Chinese through everyday interaction with my co-workers at no extra cost. My other option, a relatively opulent and stylish apartment in the People's Park Square, would provide me with my own room and I would share the apartment with other foreigners (it is currently vacant, but likely to be occupied by next month). In this case, I would forego my opportunity to live with Chinese like Chinese and would instead live comfortably, conveniently, and close to work. But I would also have to pay 3300-3900 RMB per month.

What would you suggest?

Urgency demands that I rudely and boldly ask you for your advice without having made your acquaintance; for this, I apologize. But I must make my decision tonight or, at the latest, tomorrow morning. Please let me know what you think when you get the chance, and feel free to give me a call at (86)########. I am currently staying at the 24K International Hotel near People's Park. I eagerly anticipate your reply and the chance to meet you and your wife.

I hope you're enjoying your trip, and I hope you have a comfortable flight home.

--In response, Andrew suggested that I take the dorm, if I could handle it. He indicated that I would have the chance to live plushly in Shanghai after graduating from college, but I would probably never have the chance to live with locals again. He emphasized the fact that my Chinese would greatly improve, I would have a better understanding of the culture, and I would have meaningful interactions during everyday living. Below is my response.

Hi Andrew,

Thanks for your quick reply, and it's great to hear from you as well!

You make some really good points, some of which I already considered. I feel like this is what the typical American would do: settle into a plush apartment, separate from native Chinese. This is the way to go! I travel to another country, yet separate myself from its natives as much as possible. This kind of thing is something I detest.

But I forgot to mention some things.

I just started learning Chinese yesterday, and consequently, it is difficult for me to get around the city. I just turned 20 and am the youngest person working at the law firm. This is the first time I have really been on my own; I studied in Germany for a year, but with a host family, and I went to college away from home in Pennsylvania, but I had a roommate and an orientation based on rapid networking. Besides, most kids attending college are initially giddy with anxiety and artificially outgoing. Here things are quite different. I'm pretty much on my own, in charge of designing my own plan and making the most of my trip, which is quite a burden. I don't mean to complain; this is also a blessing: I'm free to do what I want and make the most of my trip. And normally I have no problem stepping out of my comfort zone to do so. But that's the thing: by coming here, I am already outside of my comfort zone, and until I learn Chinese, I will be outside of my comfort zone. I think I need some sense of comfort and grounding to alleviate me of some of the stress I will experience from simply living and working. And, having landed here last night and started my first day of work and searched for housing today, I'm pretty stressed out.

Afforded some sense of comfort and a place to relax, I might actually be better prepared to learn Chinese and about the Chinese than I would have if I lived in the dorm. So I'm going to live in the apartment. Admittedly, this reveals that I am not as adventurous or opposed to comfortable living as I once thought I was. This revelation leaves me quite distraught, but going to Shanghai for two months on one's own with no prior knowledge of Chinese is still quite an adventure!

I must answer your question:

When will you ever again have the chance to live like a Shanghai local?

When I can speak Chinese, and when I have an inkling of what Chinese culture is like, I will live like a local. I know this will not be the last time I live in China, and it may not be the last time I live in Shanghai. I'm already going out on a limb by being out here, and my plate is already quite full. Next time, I will live like a local!

In any case, I hope you understand my decision, and I am very grateful for your advice and insight. I genuinely appreciate your prompt, honest reply. I hope you enjoy the rest of your vacation, and I'll be more than happy to meet with you when you and your wife return. Thank you very much for your help!

Matt

I'm sure I will be more comfortable living where I am now, but what my decision has revealed has proven to be equally discomforting. Perhaps I am being too hard on myself. It is also important to reiterate that just being here is an adventure. And had I chose the dorm, I would not be able to have written this blog just now. -M-