Pyjama Party

I'm staying in a hostel in an old part of Shanghai. It's a 1920s mansion house that sits kind of out of place on a very busy market street � it's kind of like Broadway Market � except the meat and fish are all still alive, there's no one selling olives and I'd struggle to find baby clothes made from organic fair trade cotton.

 

My room is at the top of the house up several flights of lovely red wooden stairs and past several enormous chandaliers. I'm completely charmed by its ramshackle nature and feeling of fade grandure � though it did make the think of a friend's recent desciption of a hotel as  "just the sh*t kind of place you love, Freya". Other plusses include friendly staff, doors that lock, loos that flush and hot water all through the day � let's just say the place has character and now my Ma can rest easy that it's safe.  

 

I didn't manage to explore until later on in the evening by which time it was dark and the market outside had changed from bustling wet market to lively snacks on sticks market. The road isn't offcially closed to traffic so there's pretty constant beeping from scooters and the occassional cars and calls of "coming though" and "move it" from cyclists.  There are still lanes of houses nearby that do not have indoor plumbing so families wash together in a large stone sink in the  courtyards outside, a small group of women in their 20s were getting a foot massage and having a gossip, a group of older men in blue Mao jackets (though one had accessorised with a dazzling pair of bright white trainers) were playing a very heated game of cards around a table and a crowd had gathered around to watch. People live their lives out in the streets in these areas in a way I love. 

 

The area I'm in gives a feeling of what's often described as "real China" or "real Shanghai" - though I confess I find these descriptions kind of strange. I'm often told that Shanghai isn't "real" China � by which I think people mean it's modern, it's expensive and it's more cosmopolitan. But to me, it's part of "real" China � it's just the modern, expensive and cosmopolitan part of China.

 

As I strolled along, a man in his 40s wearing his pyjamas came over for a chat. I add in his age only because an elderly man in his pyjamas is somehow not as interesting as a middle aged man in his pyjamas. This streetside PJ wearing this still tickles me � ever since Sam and I taught in Guangzhou after I graduated and found whole families out for an evening stroll in their jimjams. I still haven't had a conclusive answer about why this may occur � and it's something that many Chinese friends are exasperated to be asked about. It seems to be about demonstrating wealth � initially to be able to afford night clothes, and later to show that you live in the area which may also show you to be wealthier than the next person who is just wearing ordinary clothes but can't just trot around the corner and flop straight into bed.

 

Mr PJ asked me in English what I was doing. I said I was walking (also in English as I know how frustrating it is to want to practise my hard learned language and then have someone answer every question in English). He strolled along beside me, eyes straight ahead but every 10 paces or so he would take a sidelong glance. He looked kind of awkward so I said in Chinese that I was taking some exercise before I had my tea. At this he looked very much relieved and we set about a more detailed chat. Although we only walked together for 2 blocks, Mr PJ asked such interesting questions that I woke up this morning still wondering what the answers are.

 

"You are a foreigner and you can afford to come to visit China, so why would you choose to stay somewhere like this?"

 

"Isn't it full of Chinese people? You could stay somewhere better, somewhere nicer, where there are other foreigners"

 

"Why are you interested in seeing poverty? Here there's no money and people are struggling. Why do you want to see this side of China?"

 

To him, despite wearing his pyjamas to prove he lived in this area, it was somewhat embarrassing to have a tourist wandering around and seeing people live their lives. I didn't have my camera with me, I learned not to stare too long a few years ago after a man chased me with a not quite dead chicken he'd been killing and I like to think I just blend in (aside from being a whole different colour and everything!!). I wondered what the equivalent would be in the UK � but nothing else quite compares � which is probably why I love what's outside the door to my tumbling mansion house turned hostel.

 

It's all waiting for me outside.