Travelin' on the T99

We arrived in HK on Thursday, after that glorious 20 hour train ride I mentioned.  Usually I leave the logistical rundown to Ed, but in this instance I'm going to broadcast.  And, since we're out of mainland China and not re-upping our visas, I'm going to be perfectly candid.  Perhaps the internet monitors will pass my feedback along to the appropriate infrastructure division.  Heh.

Traveling between places in China is a pain in the arse.  Even when we'd done our research and knew with certainty what we were trying to achieve it was a shit show.  Purchasing train tickets to HK required 2 trips to the main train station and 2 trips to satellite offices.  Probably 5-6 hours were wasted following directions from hotel staff and China Railway counter people who had not one shred of a clue between them what they were talking about.  I mean, I could have used that time to further my study of Confucianism.  Or to have more acupressure foot massage.


Eventually, I scored the super deluxe tickets and was assured (believe me, I asked for confirmation more times than was polite) that we would be in a car with only 2 bunks and a private bathroom.  And each of us was, just in adjacent different cars, shared with strangers.

This isn't the first or the third time this has happened to us in China.  Fortunately, the sweet old man in my lower bunk swapped tickets with Ed, and all was resolved.  The rest of the evening, as we shelled peanuts and played cards and watched Modern Family on the laptop, we joked about my doing those things with the 88 year old from Shanghai instead of Ed.  About he and I hitting the dining car to share some mapu tofu, lying in our bunks talking about our hopes and dreams, or watching the passing scenery.  We were happy it didn't shake out that way, but the montage was hilar. 

Overall, we had a blast on the trip here and like the idea of traveling by long distance train again.  It went by so fast and was far less stressful and more comfortable than air travel.  The one major malfunction was the smoke.  Seemingly all men over age 12 in China are chain smokers.  I read that 27% of Chinese people don't believe that smoking and lung disease are related.  They're chimneys and there is no escaping.  Unfortunately on a train without open windows, this means that the ventilation system cycles smoke from the hallway through the cabin vents, where it lands on your pillow.  I woke up completely congested and lost my voice the next day.

10 points train travel, 0 points HVAC.

Books

Thanks, everyone, for the book recommendations!  Now that we're back in the land of free and breezy internets, I will be a downloading maniac.

Feng Shui, count me among your believers.

Since leaving L'America nearly 3 months ago (I KNOW, it'll be 3 months in a couple of days!), we've really upped our knowledge of every type of accommodation.  We've slept in a tent we pitched ourselves during a sandstorm in the Gobi, modern Chinese business hotels, a large and varied rainbow of love motels, a collection of hostels that range from grotty (Hong Kong) to sublime (Beijing), and plenty of gers.  Some rooms we stayed in for a night, some for 4, some for longer.  And what is just bizarre is that the quality of our sleep varies hugely place to place.

Before coming on this trip, I would have blamed a poor nights' sleep on one of a few factors: comfort of the bed, temperature, brightness of the room, noise.  But having now slept in dozens and dozens of strange rooms/tents in a few short months, I've revised my opinion.  I know y'all are going to say its a little dippy, but I think that the best nights' sleep are had in the hotels that practice legit Feng Shui.

Case in point...  The bedroom in our apartment on 9th street was my platonic ideal of a sleeping environment.  This wasn't unintentional; sleeping is my favorite thing to do on earth.  Don't be sad; its awesome and I'm very happy with my decision to put sleep first.  Anyway, our room.  We had a big bed topped by the Cadillac of Nasa-inspired mattress technology.  The walls were painted a calming, sleepy taupe and heavy chocolate velvet curtains blocked the sun and noise.  And yet, at some point every single night, I would awake in half sleeping panic.  I never knew where I was and the dark shapes of doorways and furniture were too near and unrecognizable and scary.  I didn't understand what caused the problem, but now I think I know.

In China, there are several chains of boutique business hotels springing up to serve major cities.  Places like the Home Inn, the Orange Hotel, and Motel 168 & 268 are a few examples.  These hotels are modern, convenient, and built on the principles of Feng Shui.  In Suzhou, we stayed at a Motel 168.  The bed was one of the hardest we slept on, the room was small, and the street below was noisy.  And yet we consistently slept like marathoners, usually straight through 9 hour stretches at a time. 

These new joints rely on the principles of Feng Shui rather than high thread counts or Cable (ha), to create comfort.  I don't yet know enough about the practice, but you can bet your bottom dollar I'll be learning before I decorate another bedroom.  Obviously, Benjamin Moore #1018 (Shabby Chic) can't compensate for the bad juju I created hanging wall mirrors willy nilly.  Duly noted, China.

Suzhou is for lovers

We've been in a water town about an hour from Shanghai for a few days.  Like so many cities in China, Suzhou seems on a map to be a quaint little spec but is, in fact, a city of 6 million people.  Its built over a series of canals and, incidentally, has a top notch Indian restaurant that we've been to twice.  I think its called the Venice of China or something along those lines....

Suzhou blends new and old, with an industrial park and Disney-scale amusement to the West, and ancient bridges and traditional housing in the center.  We've spent lots of time here and in the nearby water towns criss-crossing stone bridges, relaxing in gardens cultivated to within an inch of their lives, and strolling by the canals.  This town has been a shining example of old China, and we've had an awesome time.

Because entering and leaving the country ranges from inconvenient to impossible for the Chinese, there is a huge amount of intra-country tourism here.  When we get out of the main cities, we don't see many other Westerners, but the sights are often thronged with Chinese disembarking from tour buses and following a guide with a portable PA and brightly colored umbrella.  Zhuzhuang, a nearby water town, was the worst example since the Forbidden City.  It is walled off and therefore the masses are contained; the beautiful winding corridors along the canals home mainly to silk and chotchkes and a captive audience.  Between the tour guides yelling into their mikes (you're already amplified, folks, no need to scream), the masses queuing to cross a bridge or enter a temple, and every vendor shouting "lookalooka" as you pass, the serenity of the place is lost. 

What was so lovely about Suzhou was being able to experience life in a water town, without someone narrating it in Chinese on a loudspeaker.  There has also been a lot of women's weightlifting on CCTV late night, so bonus points.  Man, those girls are Beasts!

We leave for Hong Kong this afternoon on a 24 hour train ride.  We're going to lay in some supplies in Shanghai first and are currently charging every electronic device we have.  I foresee quite a few reruns of 30 Rock in my future...

Shopping in China

The style of salespeople in China is a little different to what we're accustomed to.  Basically, from the second we enter a store, an employee follows us like we're there to rob them blind.  If I pick up an item for further inspection, the helpful retailer will often start talking to me in Chinese and pick up another nearby item to show me.  I haven't yet determined if this second item is for comparative purposes, is higher priced, or is simply a staff pick.  Whatever the reason, we are too close to one another and I wish I could shop in peace.  The experience is confusing and we were finding ourselves getting a bit frustrated and claustrophobic.  Until I invented a game.

Basically, when we go into a shop (pharmacy, shoe, bookstore) the clerk usually goes right to Ed.  Given we're in China and he's the dude, he is obviously going to be the one making the purchasing decisions.  The whole surveillance and tracking system operates under the assumption that we won't split up.  So, as soon as a salesperson has glommed on to us, I veer off in my own direction (phase 1).  Now, the clerk has a critical decision to make, and the wheels are turning.  He is watching Ed, but has to keep looking away to get a fix on my location.  Am I behind the rack of sneakers? In the produce aisle? Does he stay with Ed or divert to tail me?  Who seems shiftier? 

8 out of 10 times, he calls for backup.  But by the time help arrives, I'm already in deep-browse mode.  The salesperson stands so close while I'm shopping that any unexpected move can and does cause collision, and this is where I really shine.  At this point, Ed is usually buying the thing we actually need: tissues, bottled water, a street map.  Which gives me time for phase 2, which is when I feign interest only in items on the shelves that are being blocked by the person following me.  Oh, excuse me, nope to your right, no now move left, no, right behind your head.  Oh, yes, so sorry, no I wanted that one by your foot.  Oh, how clumsy of me, yes, if you could just.  A little to your left, no my left.  My fault.  Yes this one.  No, not this one, that other one.  Sorry, if I could just reach around you...

Is this game mean spirited and culturally insensitive? Mmmm, probably.  Does it provide us a bit of amusement in situations that can seem tense? Sure.  Also?  Phase 2 frustrates and confuses the tailgate, who typically retreats and finally gives me room to breathe. Works. Every. Time.

Old stuff

We really enjoyed our time in Shanghai, but I remarked to both our friends and to Ed that it was surprising to me that no trace of old Shanghai glamor was to be found.  The deco architecture is preserved and the European influence remains, but everywhere you look is modernity.  Facsimiles of legendary 1930s Shanghai abound; clearly I'm not the only mo who wants to see this.  Renovations across the Bund and beyond promise restoration to Shanghai's storied past.  The reality, though, is that Shanghai is a thoroughly modern city and these renovations are just copies of copies of copies...

No where was this more in evidence than the evening that Allison, Ed and I visited a club/bar called Chinatown.  A 3 story bar with a stage in a converted 1930s Buddhist temple brought to us by the dream team behind the Slipper Room and the Box in NYC, Chinatown promises an evening variety show, tawdry burlesque, old fashioned cocktails, etc.  And as it turned out, the cocktails were fantastic, and the space was beautiful renovated.  The evening, overall, was pretty fun but that was largely due to our amusing ourselves with running commentary.  The experience is supposed to be 1934, but this is 2010 and even with vodka and imagination, that couldn't be ignored. 

The performers weren't drunk or high on opium or for hire; they were expats, failed actresses most likely, who clearly take vitamins and get plenty of sleep and keep head shots behind the bar.  We wondered aloud what one of the male performers, a Frank Sinatra type, had done or not done to land himself a regular gig here.  We concluded work release program.  The juggling clown, when offered a shot by a drunken bachelorette, declined saying "oh, I can't, I have to perform again later."  The Chinatown girls had clearly been instructed to wander about the club between acts, wearing flapperish dresses and smoking out of long handled cigarette holders.  The crowd was mainly expats in chinos, many on business trips; there wasn't even an illusion to be ruined. 

The whole conceit, from the Cabaret-imitating emcee to the awkward burlesque felt contrived and controlled.  But I should have known better.  China is a nation obsessed with progress, happily leveling historic buildings and converting temples into night clubs. 

Did I really expect the glamor and recklessness of the 1930s to remain in Shanghai, where the government doesn't allow access to Facebook?

America, brought to you by Corporate America

There were a couple of aspects of the World Expo that were super strange to us.  The American pavilion and the Chinese pavilion are about as far away from one another as possible within the grounds.  Also, the American pavilion is in the back corner of the area, making it a bit remote.  We're pretty sure this wasn't accidental.

The magic begins when we step inside and the introduction room is plastered with logos of Corporate sponsors.  An introductory film is played in which folks on the street in DC are filmed trying to say "Welcome to China" in Mandarin.  It doesn't go that well. 

As we pass into the next giant movie theater, Pfizer thanks us for not smoking. Then we watch a film where kids teach us how to save the earth (make a cloud plane that doesn't use gasoline!) and CMOs from the sponsoring firms (Chevron, GE, PepsiCo) emote; the children are our future, the environment is a critical issue.  Then cameos by such American celebrities as Tony Hawk and Marlee Matlin (she's deaf! we're diverse!), interspersed with academic interviews from professors at the University of Washington (sponsor).

We're herded into a third theater where we watch a film about a kid who dreams of turning a cement lot in her ghetto neighborhood into an urban garden and paints a picture of her vision.  She shops this around and makes some progress.  Her luck turns.  At one point it seems that a thunderstorm, flaky neighbors, and bullies will sabotage the whole project.  But when our protagonist, in desperation and pouring rain, holds her painting overhead and looks skyward over dramatic guitar music, the garden is saved.  She awakes to find it fully planted, vandals spray-painting a rainbow mural on the wall.  I think we're to assume that a higher power is responsible...

Now, imagine you're Chinese.  You don't speak English and your government isn't letting you pop over to the USA for a visit anytime soon.  Your internet access is highly censored and western TV & movies aren't broadcast.  What you see at the world expo might inform your opinion of the US disproportionately.  And what you might take away from your visit is that Americans really like sitting in dark theaters, can't and won't try to speak Chinese, and don't flush a toilet that isn't paid for by a major corporation. 

Also, the building looks like an airport terminal.  Citibank thanks you for visiting.  That is all.