My Journal

6:55 a.m., Sunday, July 16, 2000 
    I’ve been Shanghaied. (And I love it!) Four days ago, on Wednesday evening, about 9:40 p.m., I touched down at Pudong International Airport, 50 minutes late. Rainbow (Dawn’s sister), Rainbow’s 12-year-old son Peter, and Cici (a 16-year-old cousin of one of Peter’s school friends) greeted me with a “Dwight GoldWinde” sign at the airport. The four of us took a long bus ride, then changed to a taxi for the final short ride to the three-star Bao Long Hotel, where I had a room for the equivalent of $67 a night. Since I didn’t have a chance to change any money, Rainbow graciously lent me 1000 yuan (about $120). 
    Cici was my guide and companion from 9 a.m. until 5 or 6 p.m. for three days. She’s a tomboy who walks with a swagger and a casual air of self-confidence. That’s impressive, especially for a 16-year-old. It didn’t take me long to really like Cici. Born in 1984, when China implemented the one-child-per-family policy, she’s an only child. (You can have an extra child if you pay the government about $10,000, something way out of reach for most Chinese.) Three years ago her parents sent her to live with her grandparents here in Shanghai so she could get a better education. 
Cici’s Chinese name is Yu Feng Ti (her first name is Yu Feng).
    “Why do the Chinese often take on an English name?” I asked Rainbow. “The Japanese don’t.” 
    “It’s because Chinese names are often so hard for non-Chinese speakers to pronounce,” she suggested. 
    I know this is true for me. I never did feel like I could pronounce Dawn’s Chinese name, Yuhui, correctly. 

    Marco Polo, move over. I’m enthralled by Shanghai and its people. The city is one of sharp contrasts, with the working person’s wage less than $1 per hour, with its modern subway system, and with squalor in the streets just around the corner from luxury high-rises. The people are extremely friendly helpful, and always eager to talk with me when I approach them. I’m much more the “center of attention” here than in Tokyo, because “white faces” are scarce. 
    In contrast to the Japanese, the Chinese in Shanghai are much more casual, laid back, and almost impolite, yet I don’t think it’s meant that way. 
I’ll say many things about what I experienced, some of which may not occur as complimentary. Yet, overall, I find myself very, very much attracted to Shanghai.

    Many items are priced TEN times less. The unit of money in China is an RMB or yuan, currently worth about $0.12. The smallest unit of money is a fen with 100 fen to the yuan. The smallest paper money in China is one yuan; a one-yuan coin is also available. The largest bill here is only 100 yuan (about $12)! I got 3000 yuan from the bank (using my debit card and passport). Combined with the money that Rainbow lent me, my wallet will not close completely and it's a task each time to get it in and out of my pocket. The average unskilled worker’s wage is less than $1 per hour. I don’t know how much high-level management makes, but there seems to be much more contrast between the rich and the poor in Shanghai than I am used to. Prices are strange. Some items are more expensive than in the States. For example, a cup of coffee in this hotel runs 30+RMB (about $3.50), whereas I can get a fantastic hour’s massage for $2.40 (20 RMB)! Or I can also take a 25-minute taxi ride for $2.40 (no tipping).
    Items with prices largely associated with local human labor are quite inexpensive compared to what I’m used to. Another example, a head of cabbage cost eight cents! 

    Dirty shirty. Especially in contrast to Tokyo, Shanghai is a dirty city. I saw a woman clean out a sewer “by hand”. 
    Except in modern buildings, restrooms (called WCs) are dirty to the point that I’m loathe to touch a doorknob. And toilet paper is rarely available. With all possible haste I make my escape. 
    Food workers often wear white “lab coats” that are not white at all. Stains and dirt cover them.

    Chinese food is not Chinese food. Japanese food in Japan closely resembles Japanese food in the U.S. However, Chinese food in Shanghai is not recognizable in comparison to U.S. Chinese food. I took extra pains to give Cici detailed instructions so that I could eat in a way that’s healthy for me. My standard instructions now are “chicken with no fat and no bones along with green vegetables.” Although it’s still rather surprising what’s served from these instructions, it’s close enough to keep me happy.

    Snake, dog, cat, and kangaroo. Cici eats dog meat and cat meat. I’ve managed to make sure (I know it’s just cultural!) that I don’t eat any dogs or cats by always asking about the type of meat I’m ordering. Cici says cat meat is on the tart side. China actually has cat farms, dog farms, and snake farms where they raise these animals for food. While checking things out in the supermarket, Cici showed me a package of fresh meat that looked like chicken. 
“It’s kangaroo,” she said. “And here’s the fresh water turtles for cooking,” she added, pointing.

    No pictures, no English, no eating? In Japan most restaurants provide a window or menu display of the food items they offer, so I have some confidence about what I’ve ordered. Not so in Shanghai. After my trusty translator Cici had gone home one evening, I walked to a small restaurant 15 minutes from my hotel. Three waitresses and two cooks tried to understand me (and to get me to understand them) to no avail. Finally I drew a picture (admittedly very rough) of a chicken and a picture of a “green vegetable plant.” They brought out a piece of chicken and a vegetable from the kitchen to confirm our understanding. The vegetable was fine. The chicken had too much fat and too many bones (they cut right through the bones, making it a nuisance to separate the meat from the bones and bone chips).

    The greatest massage of my life. Walking with Cici on my first full day in Shanghai, I noticed a hair salon. We perused the menu of services and I decided I wanted a head massage and haircut. Before entering, I gave Cici careful instructions on how I wanted my hair cut, so she could translate to the barber. Two hours later we left the salon. The massage (provided by a beautiful young Chinese woman) started with a thorough shampoo and a vigorous scalp scrub. The woman, also trained in Chinese acupressure, used many techniques that pushed, pulled, and jerked me in ways that are quite difficult to describe. I told her (through Cici) that I wished I had a video camera so I could show my friends what it was like. In addition to a head massage, she massaged my face, ears, neck, arms, and hands. She even used Q-tips to clean my ears. (It seems they did need cleaning!) After at least an hour of massage, I was escorted to the barber chair, where a young man gave me a superb hair cut exactly as I’d instructed. After another rinse, he blow-dried my hair to perfection. The regular price for what I received was 45 yuan ($5.50). But because I was a “foreigner,” I was given a discount. I paid 27 yuan ($3.20)! Since then I’ve had two additional head massages (at 20 yuan each: $2.40) and a full body massage (at 60 yuan: $7.20). I’m not sure why the full body massage was so much more since it took the same amount of time as the head massages. I’ve dreamed of the day I could get a massage everyday. In Shanghai the cost is not an issue!

    When in Shanghai, do as the .… The Japanese appear much more polite than the Chinese, with one major exception: holding doors open. The Chinese stand ready at doors, waiting to open them for you. In other areas they seem either unaware of “our” standards or have no compulsion to follow them. In the subway I noticed them pushing each other to get on and off the subway in a way that never occurs in Japan (although, if I remember correctly, it does occur in New York City).
    Yesterday Cici and Crissy (a classmate who joined us for the day) and I were at a real estate agent to check out the apartment possibilities. The Chinese lady on the other side of the counter, although very attentive to the conversation with Cici, lay forward across the counter with her chin resting in her hands. Even in the States this would have been too informal for business behavior. Also yesterday, as Cici, Crissy, and I enjoyed lunch together, both Cici and Crissy deposited their chicken bones and other debris from eating on the tabletop. Cici told me that this is “the thing to do” in China.

    Chaos, Inc.: buses, cars, motorcycles, bicycles, and pedestrians. The people of Shanghai pay little or no attention to traffic lights and other “rules of the road.” Most often pedestrians and cyclists cross anywhere but at lights. It’s a game played to the cacophony of honking horns, with bicycles, pedestrians, and cars all haggling for right-of-way in-the-moment, every moment. The only rule seems to be “let’s try not hitting each other.” 
    A major thoroughfare allocates separate roadways both ways for bicycles and motorbikes (and sometimes pedestrians too). Many more people travel by bicycle than by motor vehicle.
    Rainbow told me that she’d entertained some guests from another country who went out on their own, and returned 20 minutes later. They said they couldn’t figure out how to get across the street, as there was no walk-light for pedestrians. The way you get across a street is to barge ahead, and negotiate right-of-way with the vehicles as you go.
    Even though I realized the inherent danger, I very much enjoyed the “no rules” game of it all. And, since everyone knows that no “rules” give them right-of-way, there’s an extraordinary level of awareness that pedestrians and motorists maintain that’s not evident in many other countries.

    My teeth must be different. On Friday I told Cici that I’d like to get my teeth cleaned. She called Peter and he instructed us to drop by his home about 3 p.m. At 3:05 p.m. we arrived at Peter’s by taxi; we then walked to the dental office. (Peter and Cici seemed extraordinarily resourceful for their ages.)
    The three of us stepped into the dental clinic and my experience was surreal. Four dental stalls stood side by side. Nine dentists and dental assistants appeared to wait just for me! Not another patient was in evidence. The facility seemed up-to-date, clean, and new. I felt paraded to the dental chair. The dentist began to clean my teeth and I could see his assistant adjust the overhead light from time to time, intent on just watching me get my teeth cleaned. On my left, I could see two other assistants often peering over the divider to watch me and my reactions. Curiosity about “how a ‘white face’ reacts to a teeth cleaning” appeared unwavering. 
    I paid $12 for the service. 
    “That’s an upscale price. If you’d gone to a regular clinic that’s not as clean or modern and waited in line, it would have cost $6 or less,” Rainbow said. 

    Seeing the right price. I must have left my reading glasses in a taxi. At a mall I asked Cici to stop at an eyeglass store to see if they had reading glasses. They only had prescription glasses. I almost walked out, but then asked myself, “At the price asked, why not get some prescription glasses?” The optometrist used Cici as a translator to test my eyes. An hour later I paid about $42 for prescription glasses with frames that I like. 

    My income just jumped seven-fold. A nice apartment we checked out in Shanghai ran $400. But what could I get for $1000, since that’s what I’m used to paying for my one room plus house privileges in Japan? I noticed a brand new high-rise. With Cici and Crissy in tow I walked into the lobby and was instantly escorted to a model apartment. 
An intake of breath whistled between my teeth. “All this for only $1000? It’s so spacious!” My shoulders shifted up and back and my arms spread as I glided to a window. A gorgeous view of Shanghai sprawled the horizon from my feet! I stretched my arms wide, up and back, and settled my hands on my hips. “Think of the impression this would make on a girlfriend: 1720 square feet (that’s the size of a house); beautiful wooden floors; fully furnished in contemporary modern; cable TV; workout gym on the first floor; full, unobtrusive security; and tennis court.” Total: $1000 per month, six-month lease available. In Tokyo this would require a commitment of $7000 per month, in California maybe $4000. 
    Soap operas in China. Cici greeted me at 9 a.m. and we took a taxi to Rainbow’s apartment. Rainbow had stepped out for something, but her son and a cousin of his were watching TV, so we watched with them. I didn’t understand any of the dialogue, but it was just like an episode of “The Young and the Restless” soap opera might be in the U.S. The subtitles interested me. Mandarin is the “official language,” but the Chinese speak about 1600 different languages. Cici knows three: the Shanghai language, Mandarin, and Su Bei. The only real common language of China is the written language, which is invariant across the country. The soap opera was spoken in the Shanghai language. With the subtitles, however, it could be watched and enjoyed by all Chinese readers.

    A luncheon escapade at Rainbow’s. Box after box of food was delivered from a local restaurant for our noon meal. Cici, Peter, Peter’s older cousin, Cici’s aunt, an older friend of Rainbow’s, Rainbow, and I were seated at the table.
    We had:
        Chinese wine flavored with snake gallbladder,
        snake dish, 
        snakeskin dish,
        duck wing,
        rabbit with hot peppers,
        two different tofu dishes,
        cucumbers and celery,
        shrimp,
        bamboo shoots,
        a beef dish, 
        a chicken dish, 
        and duck soap with bamboo and taro.
    I ate a little of the snake and the snakeskin. It was okay. However, once was enough. I also tasted the Chinese wine with snake gallbladder. The taste was not offensive and was actually interesting. Again, once was enough!

    Cici’s grandparents from another world. Rainbow, Cici, Cici’s aunt, Peter, and I walked to Cici’s grandparent’s apartment after lunch. Definitely a different economic bracket than Rainbow (Rainbow makes about $120,000 per year which, given the cost of living, is equivalent to over $1,000,000 per year in the U.S.) Through Rainbow as a translator, I talked mostly to the grandmother,
    “What do you like about yourself? What do you like about your husband? What do you dislike about yourself? What do you like about your granddaughter, etc?” 
“Peter, does all this ‘adult conversation’ bore you?” I asked. 
    “I’m fascinated by the questions you ask. I’ve never heard these questions asked before,” Rainbow translated for him. 
    It intrigued me that beside me sat Cici’s grandfather, a man shrunken, wrinkled, and nearly devoid of life force. A man who’d been a very active member of the Communist Party and, as a result, had given the family prestige and power during that period. During the Cultural Revolution he and his family were forced to march around the community chanting “We were wrong, … We were wrong, … We were wrong.”
“The ‘communist way’ is the ‘true way’,” he affirmed with a flourish of his bony fist.

    When will the sun rise? China only has one time. By that I don’t mean that it’s not wide enough to have time zones. It’s roughly as wide as the continental U.S. However, everybody goes by Beijing time, whether you live in western Sinkiang or eastern Heilongjiang. It’s like everyone in the U.S. going by the time in Washington, D.C. 

    One China. I wished I had posed the following question to more than one person. But I only asked it of Crissy. 
    “Crissy, what do you think about Taiwan?” 
    “I believe in One China,” she replied.
    “But what if the Taiwanese don’t want to be part of China?”
    “Oh, but they do,” she said, head up, chin prominent.
    “Well, I’ve talked with people in Taiwan and they tell me they don’t want to be part of China.”
    “Oh, that’s not true,” she insisted, shaking her head.
    “Well, I talked with several people and each one told me clearly they did not want to be part of China.”
    “Really!?” she exclaimed, and searched my face intently.

    Baby-sitters for machines. In Rainbow’s apartment building a woman entered the elevator with us and pressed the button for the floor we requested.
    “Why does she do this?” I asked. 
    “The woman probably gets about 50 cents per hour. She sweeps out the elevator, keeps the kids from pressing all the buttons, and provides some level of security in just being there,” Rainbow said.
    I also noticed “machine attendants” baby-sitting a picture-taking machine, a height and weight machine, a pay toilet, and an arcade machine.

    Chinese pride and prejudice. The Chinese I talked with seem to be proud of their city, their country, and their culture. Many people said, “Shanghai is a beautiful city.” 
“That is Mao Tse-tung. He is a very great man,” Cici said and pointed out a large statue at the entrance to Fudan University. I wonder if Cici’s attitude is typical.
    Driving right in Shanghai. If I ever wanted to drive in Shanghai, it would be much easier for me than in Tokyo. The traffic is definitely lighter. Also, they drive on the right (like we do in the States) rather than the left (like they do in Japan).

    Tricky challenges for businesses in China. On Thursday morning I had breakfast at my hotel with David Garde from New Zealand. David runs a business in China and spends about three months a year there. 
    “I love working with the Chinese people,” he said. 
    “How does government regulation affect your business?” I asked. 
    “Even if they had burdensome consistent rules, it would be better than the way it is. The first time my company finds out about a new rule or regulation is, for example, when a shipment (maybe worth $500,000) is impounded because they retroactively changed the law for the yearly allocation of goods of a certain type allowed out of the country. The changes in law seem to have no relationship to improving the overall economic viability of the country. Some very large companies invested billions of dollars in China and then just walked away. They found it too difficult and frustrating to deal with the unpredictable central government and bureaucracy. My small company hires three lawyers (full time) with reputed “guanxi” (connections and influence) to get an inside prediction on which edict is coming down the pipeline next and have some maneuverability to avoid the full impact of the blows,” he said.
    An aside: David told me that he’d been all over China, touring (by himself) in places of abject poverty, and never had any incident of theft or violence directed against him. This contradicts the previous advice that I had I received. Rainbow told me the central government hands down the edicts. However, it’s left to the provincial governments to interpret and enforce them. The interpretation and enforcement of the edicts can vary so widely from province to province that businesses will move their entire operations from one province to another in order to gain more favorable treatment from the government. The province that Shanghai is part of “interprets and enforces” the edicts much more favorably for businesses than do other provinces. That is one major reason why Shanghai is booming and Beijing is relatively dead.

    Destruction and construction city. I’ve never been in a city with more reconstruction than Shanghai. Old buildings are being leveled and new high-rises are taking their places everywhere.

    Even I prefer less rejection. In Japan I can meet people rather easily if I am willing to approach them first. But, even in this, the Japanese are much more cautious than the Chinese. For example: Late Friday afternoon I went to the “bar section” of the city. I stopped two Chinese ladies on the street and asked for directions. Within three minutes of conversation we’d decided that the three of us should have dinner together and enjoy talking. I doubt that would normally happen in Japan.
    In Tokyo, a “white face” is very common. However, in five full days in Shanghai, I saw fewer than five white faces. In China I’m much more of a novelty than in Japan. If I went out into rural China I’d be even more unusual. 
    “I met some Chinese in the countryside who’d never seen a ‘white face’ before and they ran in terror from me,” David Garde said. 
    As I walk down the street in Shanghai I easily catch the eyes of many Chinese and exchange smiles. They’re more “American” in their openness to strangers (at least to “white” strangers).
    From my limited experience in Shanghai I’d say that my rejection rate was close to zero in approaching strangers, rejection meaning that s/he gave me signals — even if they’re caused by shyness or inability to speak English — that s/he really doesn’t want to continue the engagement very long. In contrast, in Japan my rejection rate is about 80%. 

    China stays in touch. Casual touching among people seems even more relaxed in China than in the States. Perhaps I over-generalize from my experience with Cici, but here are my two examples:

    Most often, when we took a taxi, we piled into the back seat and it just seemed that our legs would often touch. She made no movement to move away or create more space between us, and she showed no discomfort. This would never happen in Japan (and I would be surprised if it happened in the States). 
    The second example is that, in crossing busy streets, Cici often took my arm to guide me so that I’d be safe from the traffic. Again, I don’t think this would happen in Japan, nor probably even in the States.
    Girl- or women-friends, mothers and daughters, often stroll arm-in-arm on the sidewalk. In the States we might suspect a lesbian relationship from such behavior. That kind of thinking seems laughable in Shanghai. 

    Why do I like massages? Do you? During my five days in Shanghai, I got six massages. In sharing with many people about how much I enjoy massages, I was struck by how many people said they do not enjoy massages. Why do I (and some others) enjoy massages, whereas many people don’t? The following may be factors:
I know that I was touched a lot as a baby/child both by my mother and other people, always with love and liking. Two women I talked with about this who said they did not enjoy massage each told me they received very little touching as a baby.
    Another factor might be the issue of “feeling in control” or “feeling in control of your own body.” If someone with whom you’ve not established a personal safe relationship touches your body, it could be experienced as an invasion of your space. Or it could stimulate a feeling of being “out of control.” If someone touches me, I rarely feel they’ve invaded my space. So I enjoy the sensations of a massage, even if there is no personal relationship.

    Rich daughter/poor mom. Cici’s aunt, a professor of basketball at the university in Shanghai, makes about $240 per month. 
Back in Japan, Dawn (my Chinese friend here in Tokyo) discussed my trip.

    “When I was in China, employed by the government as a doctor, I grossed about $180 per month (plus housing),” she said, as her eyes searched the ceiling to her left. “I felt richer in China than I do here in Japan, given the cost of living.” Her face relaxed into an easy smile and her eyes came up to mine. “Rainbow pays Cici’s aunt about 80 cents per hour to watch her son. And that is a high rate.” 
    “Why not pay more?” I asked. “Rainbow could easily pay Cici’s aunt more, so why doesn’t she?”
    “If she did, she’d spoil her and make her unfit for any other job that she might need to take later. Rainbow already made this mistake with our mother. She’s taken care of mother financially and given her so much money (by Chinese standards) that my brother and I have no ability to contribute in a meaningful way. At one time Rainbow was very poor (she made less than $50 per month). She’s worked hard and smart and is now ‘super rich’ in our country. Her apartment, which she owns outright (she paid $60,000), is modest.” 

    Shanghaied for good? At this point, I’m serious about the possibility of a move to Shanghai to live there indefinitely. If I do decide to move, I’ll arrive in Shanghai about November 1st.