Back Home: Reflecting on China and the Dominator Model

I loved being in China. I want to return to Shanghai. I want to see what it looks like in another year, because I’ve never seen so much change taking place in one city. I’m looking forward to meeting more people there, and finding out what they think about their evolving economic and social system.

Back home, I had to gather up my family, re-pack my suitcase, and head to Houston for my nephew’s wedding. Getting back on an airplane was stressful, but being among relatives and friends has given me lots of opportunities to talk, and reflect about my trip. People ask me about the Chinese government: Could I detect its presence? Did I see a lot of soldiers and police? Is the heavy hand of Communism felt everywhere? Anywhere?

I remember as a child hearing about the few visits of westerners to China — how the guides shepherded the visitors around, and permitted them to see only certain things. In contrast, Nancy and I moved about freely. We were asked to show our passports only when checking into our hotels. I saw fewer police in Shanghai than I do in my home town. There were more guards and soldiers in Beijing, but Beijing is a capital city filled with historic landmarks, much like Washington D.C. where one also sees many guards and (especially these days) soldiers.

The only time I felt inhibited was when websites I need to access were blocked. This blog, for instance — I couldn’t update it from China. Chris Messina kindly published a couple of my posts, and the rest had to wait until I returned to California. Apparently the Chinese government blocks all access to WordPress. After a couple of days I couldn’t upload photos into my Flickr photostream, either, and I wondered if that site was blocked as well.

Coming from unlimited access to a few million noisy, chaotic, acrimonious, and informative conversations about everything under the sun, I felt weighted down by the Chinese censorship. It’s as if the information stream to which I’ve become so accustomed was suddenly dialed down. I often complain about the overwhelming amount of information on the Web, but having the volume turned down all of a sudden felt unnatural. I don’t want to be separated from what is rapidly becoming the sum total of human communication. And I don’t want anyone else to be separated from it, unless by choice.

My first reaction to being blocked was disbelief. I wrote to Chris, asking if something was wrong with WordPress’s servers. When he told me that the blockage was deliberate, I realized that despite the physical signs of development I could see all around me, this new century may not be the Chinese century. If an author in China can’t do something as simple as posting to a blog site — or using hotmail, since it has also been blocked from time to time — then the human conversation will take place without the full participation of the Chinese.

But I don’t think the story will come out that way. Maybe I’m an optimist, but I have a sense that as the Chinese economy grows, more and more Chinese people will demand full access to the world’s information stores, and that demand will prove irresistible.

Terence Mckenna once said that each bit of human progress outsmarts itself. I’m optimistic because I see the Internet as a sign that the dominator model has finally, finally outsmarted itself. Our hierarchically organized culture, where concentrated power loves to control everything, has bred a new engine of progress that is not subject to such control. The only way to grow is to get on that engine, and go where it goes.

Last Day in Shanghai

For our last day in Shanghai, we tried to pack in the things we hadn’t yet done, without becoming too manic and stressed-out.

We began by taking the metro under the river to the Pearl Tower on the east side (the Pudong). We’re pros on the Shanghai metro now, and arrived much more quickly (and safely) than we would have if we’d traveled by cab. We rode the elevator to the observation deck at the tower, and then visited the museum that’s in the base.

The museum visit occupied a couple of hours but was well worth it. The exhibits gives you a whirlwind history of Shanghai, from 6,000 years ago to the present. As you enter you pass replicas of mud and straw huts with wax inhabitants. By the time you exit, you’re reading plaques and posters about today’s Shanghai.

The best part of the exhibit is the collection of photos of the Bund, showing the changes through time. We had just viewed the Bund from the tower’s observation deck, and seen the nighttime view from M on the Bund restaurant a few days earlier.

At the museum we learned that the Bund has been a commercial and administrative center for centuries. By early nineteenth century, the street looked like any commercial street from London or Paris, with just a touch of Chinese influence. These days the area is definitely Shanghainese; the Bund and the view of the Pearl Tower across the river is the image of Shanghai most presented in the media.

When we exited the Pearl Tower and its museum, we proceeded directly to the object known as the “Tourist Tunnel.” This strange ride took us back under the river and to the Bund, which runs along the west bank. You can buy a ticket for just the tunnel, but if you’re thrifty you’ll get the package deal that includes a ticket to the Sex Museum. We didn’t really have time for another museum, so Nancy asked for the tunnel ticket only. We were somewhat startled when the ticket seller asked, “Want sex with that?”

On the other side of the river we ate lunch at The Heights restaurant, located in the “Three on the Bund” building next door to the “M on the Bund” restaurant. The Heights is a good place for lunch and I’m sure dinner there would also be good. It enjoys the same fine views as M, but is a bit less expensive.

We walked over to the Peace Hotel to look around. The hotel’s Art Deco design is well worth a look, and if I didn’t like our own hotel so well I might be tempted to stay there. Outside the Peace Hotel it was easy to get a taxi over to the Jade Buddha temple, where we tried some medicinal tea. This temple is not highly recommended in our guidebooks, but we’re very glad to have seen it if only because it is one of the most peaceful places we’ve been in Shanghai.

From the temple we hailed a taxi to the Xintiandi — stone gate house — area. This is a section of Shanghai with a particular type of architecture, where the houses were once occupied by westerners. In a sense some of them are now re-occupied by westerners: we found another Starbucks there.

We walked over to Huaihai Street and used the pedestrian overpass to get to Fuxing Park, where we found people practicing Tai Chi and ballroom dancing. Crossing through the park, we located the former residences of Sun Yat Sen and Chou En Lai, as well as a former Russian Orthodox church and a great batik shop.

The walk back to Hengshan Street, where our hotel was located, was a long one. We stopped for dinner at Lapis Lazuli, a great place just down the street from Simply Thai, where we’d had dinner Saturday night. We finally returned to the hotel, twelve hours after we’d left, tired but glad we’d been able to see so much on our last day.

Back to Old Town

Or, Nancy and Vera’s triumphant return to Old Shanghai

Monday, May 22nd, Nancy did not have to teach. Finally, we could spend the entire day visiting points of interest around Shanghai, and I would not be ambling about all alone.

So naturally it rained.

Nancy and I are not easily daunted. We gamely headed out to the Yuyuan Gardens in spite of the rain. Clutching our “cheat sheet” card that tells the taxi driver where to take us, we caught a ride to the Old Town area of Shanghai. To review: the Old Town area is the area we walked to from the Bund our first morning in town. Though we found it successfully and bought the pearls we were after, it was a long walk and we felt lost part of the time (though we were not really lost).

This time we got to see that this part of town is fascinating, beautiful, and a little overwhelming. Instead of staying on the outside, at the pearl market (and the Starbucks), we headed through a gateway and down a lane, right into the bazaar. Everything China-related was being sold there: tea, pearls, porcelain, silk — or fakes of those things. At every corner we encountered men offering “GucciPrada” or a woman inviting us to see her brush paintings. After wandering around for a few minutes, we found the entrance to the Yuyuan Gardens, and managed to escape the hawkers. (I half expected them to follow us in.)

“Garden” does not really describe this place, which is as much rock as plant. It’s the way the plants and rocks are arranged, and the small, perfectly proportioned buildings sprinkled here and there, that makes Yuyuan a wonder. There’s no way to put into words what this place is like, so I won’t try. Nancy and I took dozens of photos, including one of the floor toilet since it was the first one we’d seen.

My favorite memory of the garden — besides the beauty and symmetry of the place — was happening upon a concert by students using traditional Chinese instruments. The tourists stood around a small stage, were a small group of young women were poised with stringed instruments similar to kotos, flutes, drums, and bells. One woman made a brief announcement in Chinese, and the group began to play. I expected to hear traditional Chinese music, but what emanated from the musicians was the overture to Bizet’s opera, Carmen.

The next excitement was the Yuyuan Garden’s teahouse, where we drank flower tea and ate some little Chinese snacks that were strange to us but good. Since we were very hungry, we moved on to the Nanxiang Steamed Bun restaurant, where we shared a table with an amused Chinese family. We couldn’t speak to each other, but they somehow communicated kindness and interest in how we liked the food, which was wonderful dim sum-like dumplings and buns. If you’re in the Yuyuan Garden area, plan a stop at Nanxiang Steamed Bun restaurant, and check out the crab ovaries. They’re excellent.

Back in the bazaar, we bought tea so we could take the flower tea experience home with us. See the photo for an explanation. The tea literally blooms in your pot or cup!

The rest of the afternoon we spent returning to sites of previous adventures. Back to the pearl market to buy a few more strands of pearls and beads, and then back to the Shanghai Museum, where we discovered that the museum shop is one of the best places in town to buy souvenirs.

Finally, we made our return trip to the hotel (which we had begun to refer to as “going home”) on the metro instead of by taxi. Riding the metro may be my best recommendation for anyone coming to Shanghai. If you’ve ridden a subway in New York, the Shanghai metro will not be a problem for you. And if you haven’t, try it anyway — it’s easy to teach yourself how to find the right train and exit at the correct stop. The metro is safer, cheaper and (especially) safer than taxis.

Lunch had been ample so we didn’t need for dinner. We briefly visited our home base at the hotel, then took the metro to Circus World and a performance of the Shanghai Acrobats. The show was a blast, especially the motorcycles chasing each other around in a steel cage. But you have to be there to believe it.

Shanghai Simply

Saturday Nancy had to teach all day, so I was on my own. I spent the morning in the hotel, writing. In truth I was a little homesick, missing my family and my dog Alfie. I checked my email and instead of messages from my family found Flock Bugzilla (software bug) reports. I could see that Flock’s UI has changed yet again, just as I predicted. I downloaded the latest Flock and found the help text I’d written a week ago is now hopelessly out of date. But I have the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, so it is okay.

In afternoon I ventured out into the neighborhood around the hotel, all by myself. After the previous day’s adventure I hesitated to explore alone, but the fact that I am writing this attests that I made it back, safe and sound. I was very proud that during my walk I located the restaurant, Simply Thai, where Nancy and I had dinner reservations for the evening. Simply Thai is highly recommended by both my guidebooks. I found it in a very international section of our hotel’s neighborhood, the Xuhui district, also known as part of the French Concession.

The French Concession — called that because when the colonial powers divided up the city (didn’t they always do that?), this was the French part — is a vast, sycamore-lined section of Shanghai. From our hotel window we look down onto Hengshen Street, and it’s like looking into a forest. The trees are large and numerous. There are two or three restaurants and bars per block, and lots of shopping opportunities.

I found a store I’d been hoping to locate — Simply Life. It was next door to Simply Thai restaurant. It turns out they are related, and they are both trendy spots. The store sells a Simply Life branded design on silk placemats, boxes, and jewelry bags; it also sells Asianera labeled porcelain ware, a design I’d never seen but immediately liked. I did a little early Christmas shopping.

When Nancy returned from teaching, we strolled to the restaurant, and I felt like a cool person who knew where she was going. The food was very good, but sadly, we were show to the worst table in the place. I wish I could rave about the place, because I love Thai food and this is reputed to be the best Thai restaurant in Shanghai. But when we arrived we were ushered past the pleasant outdoor garden tables, and upstairs to a small hot room and a tiny table next to the kitchen. The staff nearly climbed over me and my chair as they passed back and forth. A screaming baby completed our misery. Since I had reserved this table twelve hours earlier, in the morning, I expected better. So if you’re going to Shanghai, my advice is to bypass Simply Thai, or else be very clear about where you want to sit.

On our way out, Nancy discovered that some of her students who were also dining at Simply Thai. One of the students apparently dines there every time he comes to Shanghai.

On Sunday I was on my own again, while Nancy did her last day of teaching. I repeated my walk, going farther this time and taking photos. I walked by the Iranian consulate (which is well-guarded), and shopped in two small stores: Madame Mao’s Dowry, and Skylight. Madame Mao’s is a good place to find vintage clothing, China-style, and propaganda memorabilia.

In the evening we took a taxi ride out to the Bund, and had dinner at Shanghai’s famous and fancy restaurant, “M on the Bund.” M is on the seventh floor of one of the Bund’s neat old buildings. We were offered seating on the balcony, where we could see Shanghai’s famous skyline at night. We had to peer through the smog, which was the worst I’ve ever seen, but the Shanghai skyline is amazing.

The food at M was excellent. Nancy had the rare seared tuna, with garlic mashed potato and vegetables. I had the couscous “with three meats.” Both were superb. Dessert was not quite as exciting, but we should have known better than to order it, since we’d already eaten enough.

We were able to get a taxi right outside M on the Bund, and returned to the hotel promptly to get a good night’s sleep.

Lost in Old Shanghai, Continued

After our stop at Starbucks, we crossed the street briefly to photograph the old buildings. As we waited to re-cross the street, a young Asian woman and her father approached us. She asked, “Please, do you speak English?” We were a little startled but responded affirmatively. She seemed to be near tears. We noticed a younger man (I thought he might be a taxi driver, Nancy thought perhaps he was a shop owner) dogging the couple, trying to get their attention. The young woman ignored him and unfolded her map before us, asking, “Do you know how to find the garden?”

Nancy and I scrutinized the woman’s map, finally realizing that it contained no English whatsoever. But the pattern of streets on it matched up beautifully with one of Nancy’s maps, which she pulled out for comparison. Using the two maps, we were able to direct the couple to the gardens. We learned that they were a pair of Japanese tourists. The man following them finally left, to the woman’s great relief. I told her that my husband is Japanese American, hoping that this fact would serve as a sort of endorsement of my good will. I surely hope that couple found the Yuyuan Garden, and returned safely to their hotel.

Nancy and I proceeded on in what we thought was the direction of the pearl market. We were armed with a street address for the market, and we knew we were on the correct street. But in what has become a familiar scenario, the street address in our guidebooks didn’t match up with the ones actually posted on the buildings. We spotted a building with a sign that promised jewelry stores and pearls on the third floor, and decided it was close enough. (In retrospect, I’m certain it was the building we were trying to find, since I don’t think that particular district would have two large pearl markets.)

Once inside, we found a couple of dozen stalls of pearl vendors. Each had loose pearls and finished jewelry, including pieces that combined pearls with amethysts and other stones. We walked up to the first stall, which turned out to be a hard-sell place. Since we are not hard-sell people, Nancy and I quickly left. We visited three more stalls, and at the last found a silver and pearl necklace that we both immediately liked.

When we asked the vendor if she had two of them, she looked at us as if we were nuts and said, “I’ve got lots of everything you see here!” She showed us how to tell the difference between real pearls and fake ones, and readily attested that her pearls were fresh water, not the more expensive salt water ones. We were there for quite a while and left with several nice pieces of jewelry. We weren’t really ready to go, but it was getting late and Nancy had to go to work. And it was time to find lunch.

Plan A was to find “M and the Bund,” a famous place that we must have passed (but not seen) during our walk, earlier. Outside the market building, we tried to hail a cab. After having one stolen from us, we got the attention of another driver and got in. We showed him M and the Bund’s address, which was printed in Chinese in our guidebook. He looked pained and surprised and shook his head. We got out. We tried again with another driver. No dice.

At this point we realized that it was getting very late, and we decided to go with plan B: find another restaurant. Our guidebook indicated that an excellent place called Nanxiang Steamed Bun Restaurant was located at 378 Fuyou Lu — the very street we were on! We headed up the street, found a doorway posted with a large “378,” and marched on inside. I was still looking around, expecting to smell dim sum, when I heard Nancy comment in a low but emphatic voice, “We need to leave NOW.” It was then I realized that a couple of men, frozen in the process of removing their shoes, were staring at us. We had somehow strayed into the courtyard of a mosque.

In sorting this out later I entertained a brief notion that the building, till recently a fine steamed bun restaurant, had been converted to a mosque to meet the needs of a growing Moslem population. But this was not the case. Number 378 Fuyou Lu has been a mosque for a long time. And the Nanxiang Steamed Bun Restaurant, according to a different page in the same guidebook, is nearer to the Yuyuan Gardens. Perhaps we’ll find it when we return to see the gardens and re-visit the pearl market.

After that adventure we decided to take a taxi, if one would have us, back to the hotel, and have lunch there. Nancy needed to teach, and I needed to write this blog.

Lost in Old Shanghai

Our second morning in Shanghai — yesterday — Nancy and I decided to improvise a bit. Instead of taking the highly recommended but terrifying taxis we found our way to the metro.

Nancy and I were the only tourists on the metro yesterday. We may be the only tourists on the metro this week, or perhaps this month. I think 80 percent of of Shanghai natives were riding it, however, judging by the crowd. We gamely dove in, Nancy pushing our way onto the blue line. (I saw a new side of Nancy in that subway.) We discovered that if we listened very, very carefully we just might hear the English announcement as the train arrived in each station. We disembarked at the correct station, walked down a long tunnel to the green line, repeated the pushing and shoving boarding process, and rode to our destination.

Just as it was up to Nancy to get us onto those trains, it was up to me to figure out which way was east, once we emerged from the underground. I was able to do this without too much trouble, thanks to the training I received from my spiritual community, Kayumari. (In certain meditative practices it’s important to know which way is east.) We walked over to the Bund, turned right, and began strolling along the historic river walk.

Our goal was to walk south for just the right number of blocks, and then turn right again and find the Yu Gardens and the pearl market. We actually did very well, but kept convincing ourselves that we’d gone too far and had missed the turn. Each time we stopped and consulted the map, however, we found that we needed to push on. Finally coming to a detour, we were shunted into a neighborhood more exotic than anything we’d yet seen.

A gated entrance to a park caught our attention, and we entertained the thought that we’d stumbled upon the Yu Gardens. If this was indeed Yu Gardens then it would mean our map was wrong, but our map was wrong about so many things we paid it no mind. We passed through the gate and walked toward the center of the park. We found a sign directing people to go one way for coffee and the opposite way for tea. Sadly, I didn’t photograph that sign, and I’m sure I’ll never see another one like it. But when we arrived at the teahouse, there were no other tourists, and we began to suspect that we weren’t in Yu Gardens.

Retracing our steps, we decided to find our way back to the Bund street (Zhongshan Dong Lu), and continue walking. We were trying to find Fuyou Lu, which would lead us to the gardens and to the pearl market. Outside the park we paused to pore over the map, and I happened to glance up at the sign under which we were standing. It was, of course, Fuyou Lu. And I’m pretty certain that sign wasn’t there the first time we passed through.

Following Fuyou Lu led us through a residential area, where some of the residents were camping on the sidewalk. They had belongings of all sorts spread out, with vehicles parked here and there and clothes and bedding hanging on the fence that bordered the park we’d just left. This district gave way to a commercial area where people were selling goods of all kinds out of small stalls. We could see narrow alleys leading to more residences. Just when I was beginning to think we were lost, some beautiful old buildings appeared. These were ancient, lovely old Chinese buildings, and as we paused to photograph them we spotted a familiar sight: a big Starbucks sign.

Naturally, we photographed that, and then stopped in for an iced latte (for me) and a blended tea (for Nancy).

(Stay tuned: Next, Vera and Nancy find the pearl market, help a lost Japanese couple, confuse a taxi driver, and accidentally enter a mosque, much to the surprise of the men preparing to pray there.)

Shanghai Museum

Our first morning in Shanghai, Nancy and I followed advice and traveled by taxi to the Shanghai Museum. The museum is located in People’s Square, in the center of the city. Besides the museum, People’s Square houses municipal and other public buildings. It’s brightly landscaped with flowers, though Nancy and I had a hard time taking in the view since rain was pouring down (remnants of the typhoon).

Visiting Shanghai Museum turns out to be a great way to begin touring the city, especially on a rainy day. The building is round, and the exterior resembles a giant steamed bun basket. Inside is tranquil and cool. Our guidebook describes it as airless, but we didn’t find it so.

We managed to view two thirds of the collection before Nancy’s teaching schedule required us to return to the hotel. Ancient bronzes were interesting, but the ceramic exhibit was most attractive to me. Many years ago I learned the business of pottery — the wheel work, the oxides, the firing methods — from my husband the potter. (I met my husband when I took his pottery class at Stanford.) Nancy and I followed the display through the ages of ceramics in China, while I mentally compared what I was seeing with the ceramic museum Wayne and I visited in North Carolina. The art and technique of creating hand crafted ceramics never seems to change: the model kiln displayed in Shanghai Museum looks just like the one in North Carolina, even though they’re modeled on distant cultures separated by centuries.

And as we passed by Shanghai Museum’s large-scale re-creation of a reduction kiln — which includes realistic sound and lighting effects — I was immediately transported to that point in time 25 years ago when I first realized that Wayne intended to stay up all night kiln-sitting, and he wouldn’t listen to my reasonable argument that we could leave the kiln alone for a little while so we could at least get something to eat.

Speaking of which, though Nancy and I were thoroughly impressed by the Shanghai Museum, we do not recommend its restaurant. Next time — we intend to return, sometime in the next couple of days — we’ll try the tea and pasty shop on the second floor.

Goodbye Flock, Hello Shanghai

I am writing from Shanghai. It’s Friday, May 19th here; it’s also Friday May 19th in California, according to my calculations.

One week ago I finished up my consulting gig with Flock, turning in an updated Flock User’s Guide and the last bit of UI text, knowing full well that the UI would continue to change so that what I wrote in the User’s Guide will soon be obsolete. There’s nothing I can do about it from China. I’m hoping someone else at Flock will continue to update the User’s Guide. To find out, just download the latest Flock, start it up, and choose Help from the Help menu. If what you read in the help text matches what you see on the screen, the User’s Guide has been kept up to date. Otherwise, you’re on your own!

But back to Shanghai. I’ve traveled here with my friend Nancy, who I’ve known ever since the days we both worked at Stanford’s Hoover Institution. We were two liberals working as research assistants for Hoover fellows. I was an expatriate Yale graduate student and Nancy was a Stanford graduate student. We met during an earthquake.

Nancy is now a professor at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, which has sent her to Shanghai to teach in a satellite MBA program. I’m along for the ride. We’ve been here three days, counting the day we arrived when we were too tired to do anything but check into our hotel and find the nearest restaurant.

We are staying at the Regal International East Asia Hotel, where we’ve been treated very kindly. The hotel is beautiful. The rooms are comfortable and supply a high speed Internet connection. Haagen-Daz can be delivered 24 hours a day. The staff makes sure we don’t get lost, by giving us cards to hand to cab drivers. The cards apparently say something like, “Please take these poor lost ladies back to the hotel.”

Oddly, when we first arrived the hotel’s lobby was decked out with Israeli banners and signs. The hotel’s restaurant had a large sign proclaiming “Israeli Culinary Week.” The sign and banners have been removed, so evidently Israeli week is finished. We found no evidence of Israeli cuisine in the breakfast buffet, but were quite happy with the fresh lychee fruits and prepared-to-order eggs.

The hotel is located in the district of Shanghai known as the Old French Concession. Our first evening here we walked along the main street (Hengshan Lu), past clothing stores, salons, and bars that all seem to stay open late. The street is lined with large trees and beautiful architecture. We strolled in search of Yang’s Kitchen, a restaurant recommended by my Fodor’s guidebook.

Yang’s was found at the end of an alley, and turned out to be a peaceful and inexpensive place. We were served crispy tofu cut into the shape of hearts — beautiful!

Negotiating Hengshan Lu quickly taught us that traffic does not necessarily stop for pedestrians. The cab drivers — one of whom had given us a terrifying ride from the airport to the hotel — treat anyone crossing the street as a mere obstacle to be swerved around or (preferably) frightened away.

Back at the hotel Nancy and I opted for foot massages, thinking we needed something to combat jet lag and help us relax. The foot massage was one of the most painful things I’ve ever paid money for, and we won’t be repeating it. It’s the only thing about the hotel that I don’t recommend.

The next day we spent at the Shanghai museum at People’s Square, and today we tried the metro, walked along the Bund, and visited the pearl shops near the Yu garden. Quite an adventure, and I’ll write more about it later. For now, Nancy has gone to teach her class, and I’m relaxing in the hotel room — thinking about ordering some Haagen-Daz.

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