Dian Ping Che Ri Ji (Electric Scooter Diaries)

It’s getting cold in Shanghai. It’s so cold that I’m going to have to retire the Dian Ping Che for the winter because it’s way to cold to ride in this weather. I would like to conclude my Dian Ping Che Diary with some of images that I took while riding around Shanghai.

Drive by Shanghai Style

Yesterday I was cruising along on my little scooter when this dude and his girlfriend on and LPG scooter (an LPG scooter is a propane powered ride so it’s a lot faster than my little electric number) rolls up on my left and launches this big fat snot rocket. This big fat lugie just misses me and nails my left fender. I’m like….”what the F-*K!!! But I was so shaken by this that I was frozen for a second. When I finally realized what this jerk off just did, my instincts from the old neighborhood kicked in (LA drive by Shanghai style).

He was about 25 feet ahead of me and pulling away because my “dian ping che” can only go so fast. Anyway, I put the throttle as far back as I could and let Darling Delilah do her thing. I started weaving in and out of bikes and little old ladies chasing this dude. I knew I couldn’t catch him on pure speed but I thought I might have the chance to nail him a stop light.

Up ahead the light turns red and I’m like great…..I got you now sucker! So I start working on a nice one. I pull from the depths of my diaphragm. I pull so hard that it rattles my tongue as I create a vacuum in my esophagus that pulls up this nice juicy mound of yellow/green mucous that mixes nice with my coffee infused saliva. It’s so ripe that my salivary glands start to water.

As I approach him I have this huge smile on my face thinking about the satisfaction I’m going to get by painting the side of his scooter with this wonderful concoction of saliva, mucous and probably some stuff left over from the dumplings I had the night before.

I slowly move in for the kill then right before I’m about to let it fly, he bolts! What! The damn light is still red! Damn you! Now what I do with lump of goo in my mouth? Do I swallow it or chase in down with it swishing around.

I finally decide to waste it and spit it out. Man, that sucks, that was a good one. I lay down the throttle again and the race is on once again. We get caught up in a jam in an intersection and in this mess I somehow end up in front of him. After we leave the intersection we both end up on a straight away and although I can’t see him I can hear him. Unlike my electric scooter which is dead silent, LPG’s make a lot of noise. The sound of his particular scooter was now burned into my subconscious.

He was to my left but a little ways back. I could hear and feel it. I started working on hocking up my second lugie. This time I channeled the frustration of my first loss into this one and pulled up an even nicer one. Along will all the goodies of the first one I think I conjured up some extra particulate matter like nose hairs in this little gem.

I throttled down so he would catch up to me. I could hear the high pitched whining of his LPG and the annoying sounding of his girlfriend yapping incessantly on her cell phone coming ever so close. Closer…closer…closer… I turn left…THWOOP…I let it fly…SPPPLATTT!!! Bullseye…right on the leg!!!! ….Oh shit!....I nailed the wrong guy!

Right before I turned to spit, some old dude on a bicycle came between me and my lugie nemesis! I heard the old dude scream….AYIIIEEE!!! As soon as I realized what happened I banked right into an alley and took off.

I felt terrible but somehow all the anxiety and anger that I had towards that dude was gone. I think I left it on some old dudes pant leg and shoe.

Out there in streets of Shanghai there’s an old dude on a rusty bike with goop dripping off his right pant leg cruising around looking for retribution.

Uber Capitalists

I thought I lived and worked in a Communist Country yet here is a 45 foot “fake” Christmas tree that is being erected in front of our office in Shanghai Times Square. The US was founded on two polarized ideologies that create an amazing balance: Religiosity and Capitalism. The Christmas tree is the epitome of the symbolic manifestation of both of these paradigms. Yet here it is standing tall and proud in all it’s majestic glory smack dab in the middle of Communist China and in Shanghai’s high rent district. In fact, Christmas decorations in Shanghai started going up the moment the first leaf of autumn hit the ground at the end of October. And it’s not just a tree or wreath here of there, it’s huge over the top gaudy decorations on steroids.

There’s this mall by our apartment that is ridiculous. The whole front of the shopping mall is a Winter Wonderland Gateway with the main stairway entry that is about 40 wide and about 30 steps up painted with dancing reindeer and snowmen. There’s bells, snowflakes and shit hanging all over the place. As I walk through (this is the case in any mall or shopping area now), no one speaks a lick of English but you have George Michael’s “Last Christmas” or Bing Crosby’s “Little Drummer Boy” blasting over the intercom system. Like I said it’s ridiculous.

The Chinese are confused. Many are caught between the two worlds of Egalitarianism and Uber Consumerism so I’ve been spending a lot of time talking to my of my co-workers about this just to get a sense of what they think. Most of them have no idea what all this mean and simple say “well it’s a big Western shopping holiday”. Personally, after living here and seeing how materialistic and how obsessed everyone is with money, I think the Communist Party should stop kidding themselves and just embrace Capitalism. In fact there's a joke that the Shanghainese say about themselves and it goes: "a man is considered a pervert if he loves women over money". If the Party just accepts the people's wishes at least there would be some Intellectual honestly in all this misunderstood decadence.

Gen En Kuai Le [Happy Thanksgiving]

I wrote this last year when we had our first Thanksgiving abroad. It still applys....


Dear Family and Friends:

This year Christina & I have found ourselves in the unique position of observing the Thanksgiving Holiday in Shanghai China. Celebrating a tradition that is uniquely American in a country that has no real ‘connection” to the Western holiday season has given us a new appreciation for the spirit of this holiday. Right after Halloween, advertising switches gears from ghosts and goblins to images of fall cornucopias, football and gap holiday ads. The air is clean and crisp and The malls are filled with white holiday lights and the spicy scent of cinnamon and holly. The air is electric with the anticipation of the holiday season.

Today, while the air is brisk it is not so clean nor is it crisp. In lieu of scents of the holiday season, the aroma of freshly fired dumplings and diesel fuel waft through the streets and alleyways. Conversations about where you are going to celebrate the long weekend and with whom are going to watch football games with are replaced with “are you working this weekend” and did “Real Madrid win last night?”. There is however one saving grace. Other Americans. Other Americans working along side of us going through the same thing. Nostalgic for all that defines this time of year. Family and friends. A simple gesture like asking us what we are doing today for lunch and where can we get a decent Turkey sandwich in this town becomes a beautiful sound. Not that a turkey lunch or dinner defines the holiday but rather the Turkey meal becomes a manifestation of all that links you back home. A sight and taste that links you back to family, friends and familiar surroundings.

This year we both have a greater appreciation for all that we have and all that we’ve done. We are both very Thankful for all of you: Family & friends new and old. Living abroad has given us the opportunity to be grateful for all the wonderful and beautiful people in our lives that are so far away but always close to our hearts. It has also given us the opportunity to be grateful to be citizens of a brave and beautiful country. The freedoms and wealth that we have are sometimes forgotten when we are not constantly reminded by those that have less. China has been a catalyst reminding us of our fortunate lives.

We miss you all and love you all….Happy Thanksgiving

With Love,

Vic & Christina

A Delicate Sense of History -“Scooting” to Enlightenment

Most of us go through this phase of trying to figure out who we are where we are and where we are going. I was told by Mr. Diconti, my 10 grade English teacher that if we could answer those questions we would have a philosophy of our own in which to filter the world. Well being here I’m not so much trying to find out who I am but rather trying to find out who they are. I mean I think I know me and I thought that I was opened minded, but then why can’t I just accept my surroundings as they are. I mean when I’m getting pushed, shoved, yelled at and constantly profiled should just deal with it? It’s their country not mine…right?

Well, I had a break through. It’s been a little over a year but the catalyst to my epiphany was on my little electric scooter. Riding this thing day in and day out I’ve become pretty good at dodging old ladies, rusted bikes with Styrofoam piled high, erratic taxi drivers and huge buses with drivers that are clueless. You know what, there is a method to the madness and I think I’ve figured it out. There are so many elements to the madness that I’m only going to deal with one, which is this Shanghainese concept of spatial relationship. Lesson one: There is none, space I mean! So as a person that optimally functions with a 3 foot radius are him, I have to learn to function with no space. If I can get over that (which I think I have) I think I get it!

Watching cars, buses, pedestrians, bikes and anything else that has moves navigate itself in Shanghai is like watching a ton of marbles being dumped into a maze. Anyway if you tilt that maze the marbles will arrange themselves in the most optimal position to get through a small opening to the next adjacent space. Now imagine a bigger maze and throw in larger rubber balls and even larger soccer balls. As you shift the maze in different directions the balls always go to their optimal position. The only criteria for this all to work are that two or more elements make contact and one gives way.

Now imagine a much bigger maze and throw in buses, cars, scooters, etc.. you see where I’m going with this… once I gave up my 3 foot radius and realized that it’s OK to “bump” someone, a whole new world opened up. I finally understood the ebb and flow of shanghai. Communism and lack of open area has given the 85 lbs old grandma, the 200 lbs electric scooter and the 20 ton bus the same right of way and who ever gets there first simply has to hold their line. If bumped, give way because when you bumped someone else they’ll give way. In some sick convoluted fashion it all works!!

All I had to do to find this out was to “scoot” to enlightenment.

Do you really have to YELL?

Nico, our poor Chinese language teacher is always getting bombarded by knuckle head questions from us Lao Wais (foreigners). Especially now that our rag tag group has instituted beer drinking during class time. This week the question was why the hell do Chinese people speak so load especially on their cell phones. I mean literally it’s like they are always yelling into the phone.

Then there are the business meetings. Here the “yelling” in monologue is ridiculous. Unlike most “discussions” and brainstorming sessions that I have participated in, the Chinese business meeting usually consists of one person on a nonsensical rant going though all the emotion and inflictions as if in a heated discussion, except that no one else in participating in the conversation (unless they are on their cell phone taking to someone else -no joke). These sessions go on for hours at a time with so many contractions from one monologue to the next until finally the main guy, usually the CEO, has his chance to pontificate. In the end, everything that was said by the others means nothing. Only the CEOs word matters.

As a designer you can’t question or disagree with any of the convoluted rants even if they are riddled with contradictions. This way no one loses “face” (this is definitely another topic because I just don’t get it). All we can do is simply compile all that was said and decipher as best you can and come up with something that is close to what the last guy said.

Anyway, I totally digressed and just lived a “moment” that happened a few days ago. Back to the cell phone thing. Nico’s explanation is that the Chinese (especially the older generation) were used to using such bad quality telephones that they always had to yell. Good Explanation but I don’t buy it. The reason I don’t buy it is because not only are all the kids frickin’ yelling into their phones but everyone old and young has their ring tone put on the highest volume setting. It’s fucking annoying!

Personally I think it’s an amalgam of things all which seem very contradictory. First I think it’s the “Look at me” syndrome. Look how important I am, I’m on the cell phone…yippee! I really believe that the Chinese view cell phone like Los Angelinos view their cars. It’s an extension of who they are. A manifestation of their personality and some sort of convoluted self perception.

Then I think there’s this self entitlement that stems from the Cultural Revolution and one of its resultants: the one child policy. The one child policy is very evident as social policy that backfired. In fact, the local Chinese themselves admit that this is a major problem. Most feel that they are raising a generation of spoiled uber-brats!

The one child policy might just be China’s Achilles heel. I mean, when a 30 old man still lives with his parents and refuses to drink milk unless his mother opens the carton and pours it in a glass for him (true story BTW) you know that there is a serious problem here. This same 30 year old man has asked his parents to come out of retirement so they can help him buy a house. I mean’s it’s ridiculous but it seems like the norm here.

From a socio-economic perspective, there’s this issue of having an overpopulation of men and not enough women. There are so many intrinsic issues here that I’ll have to address this when I’m not writing about cell phones. The one child policy has also created a reverse bell curve of not having the population to generate the man labor and the tax base to support an aging yet rapidly growing country.

I know I went so many directions in this blog (ala “attention deficit” Vic) but it all comes back to that individual that is literally screaming into the phone or being so self absorbed in a business meeting. Personally every time I hear a LOUD cell phone ring or someone opens their mouth, I see it as a cry for self definition in a place where no one perceives themselves as an individual. Its either that or it’s a population of frustrated undersexed spoiled brats trying to reign in the fastest growing economy in the world? I see Big Trouble in Little China…..

Damn Mouse!

Everyone that I’ve spoke to that is from another country but living and working in Shanghai said the same thing when we first got here. Everyone agreed that Shanghai is an amazing city but if you don’t get out of dodge every quarter, this city will drive you crazy. The hustle and bustle and shear amount of people in Shanghai will inevitably drive you batty.

Christina and I were at that junction last month. Well, I should clarify that more; Christina was way more ready than I to get outta dodge than I was. She wanted to get as far away and to a place as polarized from China as we could get. Being the super genius that I am I initially chose another Communist (well former Communist) country in Russia. It’s probably a good thing we couldn’t get our visas in time because that could have been a disaster if it turned out to be similar to China.

Anyway, we opted to go to Prague. The choice could not have been a better one…..oh my goodness the city is beautiful! For those of you that have never been there and want to take a vacation and seem like you are in another world, The Czech Republic is the place to visit.

You see Prague (Praha) is one of the very few cities that was not destroyed in World War II. As I understand its history; after the meeting in Munich in 1938, the Allies pretty much threw the Czech Republic to Hitler as a gimme. Hitler in turn fell in love with the city that he never destroyed it. In addition the Allies never got around to bombing it (I guess they used all their bombs in Dresden). A few decades after the war, The Czech Republic falls into the hands of Communism via Russia.

It seems that all its misfortunes have somehow become blessings. By not being destroyed in WWII and being preserved by the State during Communist rule, The Czech Republic and more specifically Prague has ironically retained much of its original charm via culture, art and architecture. In fact, there are movements in art and architecture that never made its way out of Eastern Europe because of its closed society. The city is an eclectic combination of Medieval Castles and Churches, Art Nuevo and Deco buildings with random structures from esoteric movements like Rodo-Cubism. It all works well though. Everything is so beautiful and it is all linked with these charming pedestrian cobblestone streets. Combined with the beautiful colors of the fall foliage the city feels like you are living in a fairly tale. Not to mention the people are beautiful too.....just like princes and princesses! The best part though is that they drink like fish. I believe they consume the most beer in the world per capita!

The pictures I’ve attached best represent what I thought Prague was but I think Christina would beg to differ. The pictures however do no justice to really how beautiful the place is. There is one thing that kind of ruined everything for me (just a bit). Disneyland! You see walking along the narrow meandering cobblestones streets with the spires of the Castles and Churches in the background and cafes with cute flowers on the window sills at every turn, all I could think of was the damn Magic Kingdom in Disneyland!

Damn Mouse!!!…..I curse the Mouse!!!!!....sorry Rich….

pictures are worth a 1000 words...

I took a series of random pictures on vacation and as I was going through them many of them reminded me of my family & friends. Here they are and you figure out which one you think is you.

For Larry (part 1)

This post is dedicated to my friend Larry who has a blog called E A T with Larry.

There are these hot dog stands on the streets of Prague that probably have the best sausage hot dogs I’ve ever had in my life! Maybe the flavor was enhanced a bit because I would have one after a late night of drinking (or afternoon…hey I was on vacation) or in the morning after a wicked hangover. At any rate, they where amazing!

There would be 4 types of dogs on the grill and each time I wanted to try a different one my nose and tummy would always lead me to the spicy sausage (ala Uncle Larry).

The bun was a baguette. This lovely ensemble of flour and yeast was soft and warm from being just freshly baked. The aroma of the bread alone was enough to lift you off your feet and whisk you away into food heaven. The crust was light and flaky and would crumble into wafer like flakes if you held it with the wrong hot dog holding technique. The inside of the bun was dense and doughy and a little sweet. It is the perfect consistency to soak up the wonderful grease and juices of the spicy dog and the perfect sweetness to balance the flavors of the sauerkraut.

Now the coup de grâce was the hot dog itself. This amazing concoction of molded pork bits, parts and spices would bring any carnivore to their knees. I mean it was perfection packaged in a thin intestinal lining.

At first bite my canines would penetrate the dog and create a “SNAP”!!!…then all these ineffable flavors would come cascading unto my palette and all over my fingers. The grease and spicy juices would mix with the sourness of the sauerkraut and soak into the baguette to make the perfect food…..I mean what more can you ask for…..mmmm…I know…another Pilsner!

Item # 3 -unchecked

I grew up with my formidable years in the 80’s during the heady days of détente between the US and the late Soviet Union. The Cold War was in full effect and the former Soviet Union was the dominant “red” threat to our ideology. I guess being yuppies and preppies and a product of the decadent 80’s I always viewed Mother Russia as representing everything antithetic to our lifestyle of wayfarer sunglasses, Sperry topsiders and Le Tigre shirts (collars turn up of course). I mean, come on, who wouldn’t agree that the Material Girl, Boy George and Devo weren’t the enlightened ones.

Saturated with the obsession of uber-capitalism and superficiality, the idea of Communism seemed evil. I still feel the same way at times now that I’m living China and I realize what a wonderful experiment the US is. The US definitely has its issues but even with all its faults I still think it is the greatest country that ever was! We are declining though, and fast. I promise to share thoughts on this because I feel it completely relates back to everything that manifested in the 60’s and made its mark in the 80’s.

It was then that I placed Mother Russia as one of the places that I needed to visit before I die. Most people want to stand in front of the Taj Mahal or frolic on the beaches of Bali but not me. I wanted to go to Moscow walk along the Moskva River make my way up to Kremlin and stand in front of it take a picture with my hands raised over my head in victory (maybe even ‘flipping the bird”) and repeat those infamous words uttered by Reagan, “Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!"

With the fall of Communism and Christina and I living so close to Russia, I finally had the chance to accomplish item #3 on my list of things to do before I die. Plans were fashioned, plane tickets purchased, hotels and transportation reserved. All that was left was the visa. Simple enough, we had friends from the US go there with no issues.

With a week left before our flight, I finally got back my passport from the Chinese government (every year you have to register with the government and they hold your documents until you interview with them to get it back). Christina and I stayed up all night putting all the documents together that were required for the visas.

Let’s see......application-check, bank statements and assets-check, international medical insurance-check, verification that we are not experts in explosives and fire arms – check (not joking), hotel verification letters of everyplace we will visit- check, someone to vouch for you-check, passports, tickets, blah..blah..check…check…check….and finally copies of everything in triplicate!

Flawless…we had everything. It was going to be a slam dunk! The next day at the Russian Consulate there was a Finnish lady and an Italian guy in front of us in line. We could over hear them discussing what a pain in the ass it was to get a Russian Visa. We joined in the conversation and discovered that they had been there multiple times and have been turned down.

We had to enter the Consulate one by one so by the time Christina and I got there we saw the Finnish lady sitting in the corner crying. We asked her if she was ok and all she said back was: “I hate Russia….I hate China…I hate Communism…why the hell do they make it do damn hard to enter their god forsaken countries”. Needless to say she wasn’t able to get her visa.

To make a long story short we couldn’t get our visas and trust me it was no lack of effort either. We tried everything including calling in favors from friends that have friends in the Chinese Foreign Affairs. Well, actually we could get the visas but it would take some time because the US and their Allies are supporting Georgia in their little Civil war.......but I filled out the damn application and explained that I couldn’t build a bomb and I wasn’t an expert marksman…wasn’t that enough!

Anyway, we cancelled everything, choked down a grand in penalty fees for flights and hotels and booked a trip to the Czech Republic and had a great time.

So I had to “uncheck” item # 3 on my list …..but I’ll get there someday. The irony is that to get to Prague we had a stop over in Moscow. In the picture I don’t quite have my hands over my head but that’s not a peace sign either. It’s my politically discrete “victory” sign….and oh, I’m not really smiling…I’m pissed off!

The coolest thing ever…..

One night after Chinese class, one of the guys and I decided to go out for a beer. We couldn’t find anything mellow and low key near work since everything is either a high end restaurant or a hooker bar. So we decided to go to the local market and pick up some beers and shrimp chips (hey, that’s what you get here) and walked over to People’s Park to chill out like two winos.

My friend Joe (his name is not really Joe) is a really cool guy. He’s from all over the place but I think he calls the Seattle home because he’s spent the longest time living there. I think he mentioned he’s lived there for only a few years but it was the longest time he’s lived in one place as an adult. Prior to that he bounced around from city to city with his family and continued to do so during his undergrad and graduate work. He’s lived abroad a few places around the world for school and work and arrived in Shanghai about the same time I did. Joe has recently left China and is now in India and who knows from there.

This seems to be the “profile” of pretty much everyone I’ve met here. Another friend, Helena, mentioned that she’s lived in 7 cities in 4 countries in 8 years! To a guy that’s lived in Los Angeles for over 20 years this all sounds so exciting and cosmopolitan, however it also seems extremely exhausting.

I’m always in awe with the stories and things that they have to tell because they are so varied, exciting and very different from my own. This “lifestyle” epitomizes a key “life rule/ philosophy” that I hold. That is that you can “lengthen” and enrich one’s life by having as many varied experiences as possible since life is simply composed of a string of memories. Think about it, didn’t elementary school, junior high and even high school and college seem like an eternity filled with so many exciting memories? Yet most of us in our 30’s have now spent the same amount of time out of school. Do we have as many memories or does it all seem like on huge glob of work, happy hours and kids? You see, the more you experience, the longer life seems. One caveat though, they must be quality experiences.

Two tall boys down, the conversation gets deeper. We discuss the relevance of friends, family and work. What I discovered that although Joe is driven and has seen and experienced more places and things that I will ever know, he admits that he does not have any real close friends. He knows a ton of people all over the world but has never stayed long enough in one place to cultivate a true BFF. That was sad to me and was a huge “chink” in the armor of my “life rule”.

The family and friends that I have in LA are the ones that, in most respects, define me (us). I am a son, a bother and most uniquely, a friend. I say uniquely because being a friend is a choice. You see my role as son and brother were bestowed on me. I did not choose my parents or my brother or sister or my entire family for that matter. On the other hand all my friendships are all choices, a choice that was made by me and another person. That means that friendship has conditions and these conditions are ones we choose to live with and are what will eventually define me (us). We gravitate to people because we see something familiar, missing or fulfilling in our lives. Remember if you really want to know who you are, look at the friends you keep (and the cloths you wear….but I digress).

Anyway the point that I am trying to make in my patented long winded circuitous manner, is that the coolest thing ever happened that other day. I was on the construction site for one of our projects in Pudong, China and I get a phone call. It was one of my closest friends Steve. He’s calling from LA. He’s at Wahoo’s with the group of guys that I consider my best friends. They have all been drinking and discussing life. I guess there was a point in their discussion where they thought I would have some insight on some nonsensical issue they were discussing. The fact that I am 6000 miles away but still included in a conversation about nothing was the coolest feeling ever. In some small but deeply profound way, it gave me meaning. Cogito ergo sum…kind of….

It’s sad to know that Joe, although he’s seen and done a lot in his young life, won’t have someone calling him up and asking him if he watched some movie and what his insignificant opinions are about it.

The Myth is real…

I’ve been MIA from my blog for a few weeks now. I’ve recently discovered that the mythical “China Hours” do exist. You see, prior to coming to Shanghai, several of my peers mentioned that it was going to be Archi-torture working in China. I mean, Architects as a norm already work a minimum of a 60 hour work week. In China those kinds of hours are supposedly a walk in the park.

Well 10 months into living and working here, I thought I was working for the County of LA. Hell, it was easier than that. It seemed like I was on a 10 month vacation. As our company was trying to figure it out how to define ourselves in Asia there was nothing I could do but go to Moet Chandon Launch parties, fashion shows, Salvatore Ferragamo Anniversary parties and the like. It was a sweet life.

Then one day…BAM! China Hours! Our company gets its shit together and all of a sudden I find myself in some second tier city 2 hours out of Shanghai drinking bie jiu and eating some weird stuff with the Mayor and his cronies, sitting in meetings with Chinese government officials and yelling at the foreman on the job site in English while he looks at me with a blank stare.

One and a half months goes by without a day off and the only way I can swing it is by rupturing my Achilles tendon!

Oh the humanity….the myth is real….the next year is going to be fun..fun..fun…

it's the little things in Life....

It’s the little things in life that make us happy. Today has got to be the most beautiful day I have experienced in Shanghai. It’s so beautiful that words escape me. Maybe I just feel this way because it’s the first day in 10 months that I’ve seen crystal blue skies and fluffy white clouds, there's very little humidity and NO pollution! That’s right, no pollution. I can see for miles and miles from my office window with no end in sight. I love it! I’ve attached 2 views from my office window. One is a typical day in Shanghai and the other is today (you figure it out).

I’m having the typical day in architecture but for some reason I’m in a really good mood. I think it’s the weather. I think most problems disappear with little sunshine, blue skies and fluffy white clouds…

When in Rome….

The old adage goes something like this: “ when in Rome do as the Romans do”. Well what do you do if the Romans are rude and impolite? Should I become rude and impolite? This is an open call for your opinion.

I was taking the bus home the other day and I scored a good seat again (as I mentioned in a previous blog, good luck on catching a cab on a rainy day in Shanghai. Odds on accomplishing that are as good as finding an empty lane on the 405 freeway in LA at 4:00 Friday afternoon). As the bus filled up there where a few ladies that were standing that I should have given my seat up to. I normally do, but in the past it’s led to either other men taking my seat as I stood up to offer it to a lady or having some ungrateful bitch push me aside as I motion to her that I want to give my seat to her.

There in lies the dilemma. Do I stick to my own personal values and look like a weak dumb foreigner and get made fun of when I politely open doors and give up my seat to ungrateful unappreciative self-consumed people or do I shut the rest of the world out with my iPod and go on my merry way with only me as my only concern like the rest of the “Romans”?

“Do you have it in you”…

Currently in Shanghai its hot…I mean really hot!...and really humid too. The air is still, thick and heavy and it’s disgustingly sticky. Needless to say it very uncomfortable to a guy that is used to the “dry heat” of California. The schizophrenic weather doesn’t help either. One minute the sun will be shining then another minute these dark ominous clouds roll in and the sunny day disappears into this dark dismal setting which looks like the world is coming to an end. Lighting strikes…thunder sounds…then on cue, rain drops the size of small animals come crashing down. Half hour later the sun comes back and the process repeats itself.

Having said all that, I had one of the coolest experiences last night. I met up with a bunch of guys that play basketball on the rooftop of the Ritz Carlton Hotel. There are these basketball courts that are on the rooftop surrounded by a chain link fence with a 360 view of Shanghai. The imagery is like something out of a scene from Law in Order when the cops go and talk to someone playing hoops in a playground in the middle of Brooklyn or Chicago (I’ve never played ball in Brooklyn or Chicago but this is what I imagine it would be like…well… except you are on the roof top of a 5 star hotel and your not being arrested). Regardless, it’s a way cool setting when you are in the heart of an urban setting and when you take a jump shot and your backdrop is the bright lights and big city of Shanghai.

There was about 15 of us up there about 8 pm Thursday evening playing 3 on 3 games under the harsh lights of the roof top lamps when a huge thunder storm came in. No one even flinched when the torrential rains came rushing down. The heated games went on. It was surreal to look up and watch the glistening raindrops twinkle as they magically appeared from within the darkness above and slid past the beams of light radiating from the roof top lamps. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion. As I looked around; the mix of the heavy hot rain, humidity, sweat and muffled sounds of shit talking seemed like I was in one of those cool Gatorade TV commercials.

For a moment there I had to stop and check to see if I was sweating orange…..”Do you have it in you”…

The Delicate Sense of History: [Turning Over in His Grave]

This image is what I thought China would be like; strong, gray and stoic and devoid of any emotion and mysticism. A socio-political commentary manifested in steel and stone. I thought the city would be riddled with these grand industrious and abstracted geometric forms of Mao and the loyal citizens of the Peoples Republic of China depicting social progress and political stability.

Little did I know that only image of Mother China constructed in this manner is of Chairman Mao on the Bund. Ironically the Bund is the part of the city that the British and French built in the early 1900’s and is currently the hub of tourism in China. The architecture of the area is ostensibly French and reeks of English pomp and circumstance. The symbol of industry and egalitarian progress is surrounded by street vendors hocking anything and everything from cheap “Made in China” goods to ferry rides on the Huangpu. I think Chairmen Mao is turning over in his grave…..

The Beautiful Children of Tagaytay

Christina and I hiked to the top of the Taal Volcano in the Philippines. It was an amazing experience. You begin the trip by taking a banca (which is a Filipino outrigger) from the mainland across Taal Lake and anchor at a local village on an island. Then you do the actual hike up the volcano. When we landed on shore we were greeted by some of the happiest and most beautiful children from the local village.

I will elaborate on this little adventure another time is because I would like to share some thoughts about gratitude and happiness that we experienced from these local village kids and share some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. For the meantime, here are some pictures of the kids we fell in love with�

Precious little ghost

Most people (including me, until I moved here…. we can thank the LAUSD for that) think of China as a monolithic homogeneous country and culture. On the contrary China is comprised of several diverse minority groups. The reason for our (my) misconceptions is due to the fact that about 92% of the Chinese population are of the Han Chinese ethnicity. There are however over 56 other minority groups that make up the people of China. Unfortunately these “other” 56 ethnic groups are a “silent minority”. Among the glitz and glam of a new and improved China, they simply live as ghosts in their own country. Many of them know only a life of poverty and begging. When I saw this little girl, my heart broke…..

borgmania

Below is an excerpt from my friend Eric’s blog. I met Eric in Shanghai, China when we both signed up as free agents on a local basketball league. Our team sucked but I got the opportunity to meet some pretty cool new friends. Eric was one of the victim’s of “Shanghai’s Revolving Door” but it has capitalized on it and is on a 5 month (I think) “walk about” on this side of the globe.

I envy Eric because he is doing everything that I wished that I had done in my early 20’s. He’s traveled all over the world and has seen some interesting things so it’s always fun read his blogs and find out “where in the world is Eric now”. This is one of my favorites…….

Previously on....Tales of Interest:

(Scene: Korgas, China-Kazakhstan Border Crossing. Translated from the original Chinese)
Me: I want to go to Almaty, Kazakhstan. What time is the bus?
Chinese Taxi Driver: No bus today. Bus Monday.
Me: But today's Friday. There has to be a bus today. There's supposed to be a bus today.
Chinese Taxi Driver: Border crossing closed. Holiday. You go Monday.
Me: Goddamn't. Why didn't anyone tell me the border was going to be closed before I took the night bus all the way here from Urumqi. Well what the hell am I supposed to do here until Monday. There's nothing here.
Chinese Taxi Driver: Get hotel 3 days.
Some Other Taxi Driver: There is train going today at 6pm from another border crossing far from here.
Me: There's no way I'm hanging around here for 3 days. How do I get to this other border crossing.
Some Other Chinese Taxi Driver: Take taxi then bus then taxi.
Me: Are you sure there's a train today there? You're not lying to me just so I'll take your taxi?

(Scene: Train Station, 350 km away at another China-Kazakhstan border crossing)
Me: Is there a train to Almaty today?
Attendant: No train today.
Me: I thought there was a 6pm train today?
Attendant: No.
Me: When's the next train?
Attendant: Sunday.
Me: Goddamn't. I hate you Chinese taxi driver. Is there at least an internet cafe in this shit hole?

(Scene: Uzbekistan Embassy, Almaty, Kazakhstan)
Me: How many days does it take to get a visa for Americans?
Worker: 10 working days without letter of invitation. And we're closed on Fridays.
Me: Goddamn't. What about with a letter of invitation?
Worker: One day.
Me: How long does it take to get a letter of invitation?
Worker: 10 working days.
Me: Goddamn't. I'm not hanging around here for 2 and a half weeks. Screw it, I'll just fly to Nepal.

So I made it as far as Almaty, Kazakhstan (which wasn't easy) and then had my central Asian travel plans foiled by outdated Soviet bureaucratic visa requirements for Uzbekistan. In any case Tibet is still closed to foreigners and traveling by land through Pakistan to India probably was never my best idea. I still blame the Chinese Communist Party and I have long memory. They will pay. Almaty was actually a very pleasant city but no one told me it's as expensive as Western Europe. Stupid Kazakhs with their oil and gas money. That Borat movie was incredibly misleading.

Anyways, Nepal has to be one of my favorite countries in Asia. The Kathmandu valley was fantastic and although I generally dislike large Asian cities due to their being overcrowded, overdirty, overhot and haphazardly built, I really liked it in Kathmandu. The old city had incredible Hindu and Buddhist art everywhere. And I mean everywhere. On every block there was centuries old sculptures, wooden window carvings and temples. Durbar Square could rival anything in Europe.

Basically all the tourists stay in the tourist ghetto of Thamel. There you have narrow maze-like streets comprising of trekking stores selling fake North Face stuff, travel agents offering trekking trips, souvenir stalls, and restaurants, followed by every thing I just mentioned again and then repeated ad naseum, in that exact order. It can be a bit much at times but I stayed at what was an oasis in the craziness, Kathmandu Guesthouse, one of the best places I've ever stayed at. The Beatles stayed there in the 1960s (or if you prefer, only a few weeks ago, Ricky Martin) and the place just has a great atmosphere where I met tons of cool people.

Almost everyone who comes to Nepal does some trekking in the Himalayas. They're almost twice as tall as those hills we call the Rocky Mountains. At first I figured on doing a 5 day trek but after talking to people it seemed like the Annapurna Circuit was the way to go. 12 days through some of the best scenery on Earth with soaring mountains of at least 7,000 meters all around. It wasn't exactly roughing it since you pass through small villages every few hours where you can stay for the night and buy delicious, delicious Coca Cola, Snickers and homemade apple pies. The highlight was the grueling hike up to and over Thurong La Pass at 5,416 meters (17,769 ft). At those dizzying heights altitude sickness is a serious concern, your head hurts and even ipods stop working. The second highlight was when my Sherpa sold his pants for 4 insects he said had great medicinal value. He later confided that they give you "sexy power".

On the next Tales of Interest: how the holy Hindu river the Ganges is actually a septic tank, militant Hindu monastic orders, and why I'm glad cows don't roam freely around the streets of New York (hint: they generate large amounts of shit and generally disregard the traffic laws).

-E
borgmania.blogspot.com

Hardcore Fair-weather Fan: [genus: Los Angelesia -species: Sportazoa Fanalia]

Hardcore Fair-weather Fan. Mmmmm…does such a curios creature exists? Sure they do, they are known by their scientific classification and nomenclature LAsF - Los Angelesia Sportazoa Fanalia (commonly known as the Los Angeles Sports Fan) and can be found in and around the Los Angeles Basin area. There are high concentrations around the Los Angeles Downtown area around the Staples Center in the mid Spring Months of April thru June and around Dodgers Stadium in the latter months of the Summer.

I have however noticed a mutation of the Los Angelesia Sportazoa Fanalia and for some curious reason this mutation only occurs once you cross large bodies of water like the Atlantic or Pacific Oceans. This breed of the Los Angeles Sports Fan seems to be more “Hardcore” than your typical common strain. In fact, it seems to be so potent that it even affects those immune to the Sports Culture of the West Coast. Inhabitants of the East Coast , Pacific Northwest, and the Southern section of the US seem to concede to this beast.

This new more powerful creature is immune to slow internet access, warm beer, communist propaganda and even pixilated satellite viewing!!No matter the obstacle, these beasts find themselves wandering malls, bars and restaurants in the early hours of the morning searching for sustenance and satiation by simply catching the 4th quarter of the NBA finals or a glimpse of a two day old game. It’s a hungry creature that is starved for sports entertainment of which it has never craved nor feasted on in the past.

It’s even gone as far as to watch soccer…..Arrgghh…the Horror!!!

Lakers finally win….87-81

To Buy or not to Buy…that is the question.

We have another "China" dilemma. There is a local artist that we like. He has gained a lot of popularity the last year so the price of his work has skyrocketed to the point that Christina and I can no longer afford to purchase his work unless we sell our house in Pasadena (I’m half joking). We do however live in China where “copying” is an art form unto itself. Because of this artist’s popularity, several unknown artists have been copying his work and selling them in smaller galleries. Well, we found a few pieces that we really like and we are torn on whether to purchase or not.

Do we save and attempt to buy something original before we leave China and risk it because the price keeps going up or do we relish the fact that we are in the “Copying Capital” of the world and buy a copy……or not buy…

Kung Fu Master or Chicken Fried Rice

I dig this dude. With my horrible Mandarin and his terrible English, I think we agreed that he is going to be my new Martial Arts Master. Either that or I just ordered 6 weeks of sweet & sour pork and chicken fried rice……

The Pajama Patrol

We finally did it! After 9 months of living in China we are truly submersing ourselves into the modern Shanghainese lifestyle by buying bikes (and risking our necks while we do it)! We finally got the courage and confidence to brave the streets of Shanghai. For about $60 USD we got our Chinese bikes with all the fixins’ at our local grocery store and are now officially in the mix of the populous.

Shanghai is completely flat so everything is accessible via bicycle, the big concern is more about what kind of risk you are willing to take. The two biggest ones being: getting lost and not being able to find your way back home because the city streets were designed to replicate a bowl of spaghetti or getting hit by a taxi, scooter, motorbike, pedestrian or even someone’s spit. It’s chaotic and dangerous out there…but it’s also very liberating to be out on the streets. They even have these cool raincoats for both you and your bike so you can ride in the rain.

Not only did Christina and I buy bikes but so did our neighbors and some of Christina’s co-workers. We’ve replicated our “bike gang” in good ol’ Pasadena! We call ourselves “The Pajama Patrol”. The name is derived from this unusual but funny fashion quirk that the Shanghainese have which is to wear your pajamas out in public like a suit. I mean they wear their pajamas everywhere like grocery shopping, window shopping, university and even going out to dinner. From what I was told, pajamas are a status symbol because not everyone can afford them. We decided that one Sunday we would all wear our PJs hop on our bikes and go to brunch, hence the name “The Pajama Patrol”.

Now the adventure truly begins….