Shanghai

I went to Shanghai a few weeks ago and, besides meeting up with some old friends, Zhu Junbo and Sean, and enjoying the gorgeous view of the skyscrapers from the Bund (the old French concession), the highlight of the trip was wandering around an old neighborhood in Huang Pu District that was somewhat reminiscent of Old Nanjing. Keep in mind that when I say old neighborhood, I do mean laocheng 老城, but I do not mean the fake old cities that the Shanghai government has constructed as a type of symbolic urban preservation to satisfy tourists and activists alike. This was a neighborhood of genuine Chinese old houses that haven't been demolished yet.

I had the opportunity to take some photographs from a high-rise hotel, which clearly demonstrate the dramatic tension in Chinese cities between the old and the new. Shanghai is no exception. Shanghai often has a reputation of being a ritzy, wealthy, and global city, which it is sin some sections, of course. But this trip stood as a reminder that every Chinese city has sections of both poor migrant workers and indigenous inhabitants (bendiren 本地人) that are under threat of demolition.

The photographs embody the intense gentrification and massive urban reconstruction that is going on in China by revealing old homes (one- to two-story homes) nestled in-between modern high-rise apartments and hotels. I loved walking around the old neighborhood, which maintains an original Chinese urban texture that really can only be found in the old neighborhoods of urban China. When I say urban texture, I mean genuine Chinese culture. Urban texture is the original cultural integrity and the way of life of the indigenous inhabitants of the neighborhood.  The quality of life, economic interests, and cultural integrity of the local residents is embodied in urban texture and threatened by demolition. My ethnography that I've been working on and will continue to work on intends to capture this urban texture that is quickly disappearing and record these societal changes in written, picture, and map form for all of my blog readers to enjoy. And I'll have to get some aerial photos of Old Nanjing somehow too.

Old houses with high-rise apartments in the background.

The gated community next door with the high-rises in the foreground and the old neighborhood in the background.

It's all about the tension between the old and the new

 The old neighborhood in Huang Pu pictured here reminded me of Old Nanjing in some ways, mainly that the old houses on the main road had been converted into businesses. However, it was about 5 times more crowded than Old Nanjing, and it was a bustling commercial center, whereas Old Nanjing is quieter and has a feeling of abandonment. I was able to walk around the neighborhood both mornings I was in Shanghai, and bask in the untarnished urban texture that has been quickly disappearing with the rise of apartment buildings.

 As you can see in the pictures below, there is a gated community in the middle of the neighborhood, as there are throughout Shanghai and all Chinese cities. The first time I walked in, the security guard stopped me. I told him I wanted to go in to sit on a bench and eat my breakfast. He just nodded and let me through. I wonder if he would have acted differently if I were a well-dressed Chinese person. I think we all know what would have happened if I was dressed like a peasant (nongmin, or someone from the countryside), or a common worker. The second time I went in the gated community, a foreign friend accompanied me and we were not stopped. While inside, we were not bothered. 

Gated community with impressive landscaping in the foreground and the old neighborhood in the background

The second you walked into the gated community, it felt like I was in another world. The noise was drowned out by the high-rises surrounding us on 3 sides. A small and pretty park was in the center, with winding sidewalks, benches, trees, flowers, and a small creek with a pedestrian bridge going over it. A stairwell on one side led down to a parking garage filled with big, expensive cars, and a stairwell in the other led to a gym with a swimming pool. As I was there on a Saturday and Sunday morning, young male and female young professionals played with their toddlers and chatted in the gardens.

Here is the peaceful garden inside the gated community, where I ate my breakfast and did Qi Gong

When you exited onto the street, you were again bombarded with a noisy, bustling Chinese street, full of the delicious smells of fried noodles and dumplings, combined with the horrendous smells of sewer. Bikes, motorcycles, cars, and pedestrians competed for the road, honking at one another and swerving between each other. Vendors selling shoes and collecting recycling on their tricycles (similar to rickshaws) shouted out daily specials as they rode by. The local "dollar store" had a megaphone set up that repeated, "Everything for 9.90 kuai, Everything for 9.90 kuai" over and over again. Stores selling bootlegged DVDs, clothing, and flowers were crowded next to one another on the street. Fruit and vegetable markets lined the streets, along with street vendors selling various delicious snacks, including grilled sausages, fried sandwiches, fried noodles, and hash browns. One man sat with a cart full of bamboo, and would cut and peel large pieces of the branch to sell to customers.

Everything was just, well, 乱七八糟, or "messy." I can't think of any other way to describe Chinese urban texture, but it's exactly the messiness that I love about China because it's so genuine. In old neighborhoods like these, while there is a sense of shame in the state of their homes, there is no need to show off social status, wealth, or put on a fake face to impress the foreigner with something. Perhaps it's because they don't have social status, don't have wealth, and don't have a face to put on. It feels very genuine and you can see and feel the authentic Chinese culture. It's a completely different world from the gated communities of high-rise apartments.

One morning, I stopped to buy some fried meat buns, but the vendor was annoyed at my slowness, so she served all the customers behind me first. Luckily she was the only person I met my entire trip in Shanghai that wasn't incredibly kind and friendly. I stopped at another vendor for a fried egg pancake, and when she asked me where I was from, she was excited when I told her I was living in Nanjing. "I spent a couple years in Nanjing a while back!" she said. The vendors were excited to talk to me and curious about how I learned to speak Chinese. They seemed pleased I had come to visit Shanghai.

Noodle restaurants selling all different kinds of fried and soup noodles were spattered in-between the shops. One afternoon my friend and I went into one of the noodle restaurants, and with the help of a friendly customer, ordered some banmian 拌面 with lamb meat. The combination of the al dente noodles, tender mutton, and slight tang of spring onion and vinegar was one of the best meals I've had in China so far. A little girl ran around the restaurant while we were eating, stopping occasionally to stare at us. As we were paying the bill, some drunk men who were smoking in the corner yelled out that all Americans are rich and arrogant. That neighborhood reminded me that even in a cosmopolitan and global city like Shanghai, you can still find pockets of original Chinese urban texture in the old neighborhoods that haven't been demolished yet, or in the words of the Chinese, "haven't been razored" yet. Yet.

One of my favorite blogs is called "Shanghai Street Stories" because the author, Sue Ann, beautifully captures moments like the coming of autumn, the smell of street food, and demolition in Shanghai. Check it out if you are interested in reading more about the REAL China, not the urban, wealthy, and skyscrapered one you read about in the news or see pictures of on the Internet.

Chinese word of the day:

好笑- hao3 xiao4- literally, "good smile," aka funny