Far from flat-pack

Today has been filled with magic. Shanghai has served up little treats for me all day, sunshine, blue sky, nice people, tasty food and, thanks to the skills of my friend Stephanie (from now on referred to as Beautiful Stephanie just like in Short Circuit!), the perfect Shanghai apartment.

 

We signed the contract while I was in the UK over Christmas, or rather Beautiful Stephanie signed it on my behalf, so I hadn't actually seen the place. I just saw photos and had a rave review from my friend and decided that it would be fun to move in somewhere I'd never seen. And if there were rats, I could blame her!

 

I was filled with butterflies as I followed her directions to our new home this evening. At least I think it was that and not my barbecued potato slices from last night. I walked into our compound and my heart sank a little. A series of very ordinary looking white tower blocks were lined up in front of me. Beautiful Stephanie and I had often talked about living in an old-style Shanghainese house and how fun it would be to live in a characterful old place. Her emails about the flat had described how it was just as we had talked about. I worried that perhaps our versions of the Shanghai dream flat were different as these white blocks just weren't doing it for me.

 

However, peeking through the white blocks is a shorter, squatter building with a zillion windows straight out of a 1930s Shanghai film. The kind of building where the hero's girlfriend lives. I skipped into the building and ran up the stairs. A mass of corridors led me to our front door. Actually that's a lie. Beautiful Stephanie led me to our new front door as I got lost in the mass of corridors! We are going to live somewhere lovely, somewhere that fills all my expectations of what a Shanghai old apartment should be - it even has a light that doesn't work and a washing machine you have to pull out to use. I am totally charmed. The big move happens over the weekend and that's when we'll meet the landlord, register at the police station and start making it cosy. I am in charge of the cosy part as Beautiful Stephanie is taking a well-earned break and flying off to India for a holiday. Photos will follow after the big move!

 

The other bonus is that it's a 5 minute walk to an incredible restaurant that Beautiful Stephanie and I both adore so we had a great dinner of dragon beans and deep fried taro balls and made a pact that we could only go there for dinner once a week or we would be too rolypoly to fit in our new bathroom.

 

Today I am very happy and excited about my new life here. Tomorrow I have a big meeting at work so I need to learn some useful words to add to my vocabulary and get some sleep. I am aware that Shanghai will pay me back for this perfect day with some yang to my yin. But for today, I'm just going to enjoy it.

 

Back - and in business

I am back in Shanghai. My working visa is sitting happily in my passport and as soon as the Spring festival holiday period is over, I will apply for my resident's permit - a joyously bureaucratic experience involving the four corners of this fair city.

 

I arrived at 7am this morning to this exciting new world with its new American president. I missed all the action as I was watching terrible films in a tin box flying across the gobi desert...luckily Sam is in Washington and so I have very good videos, photos and blog updates to read.

 

I started work at 10am. I am now the manager of The Phoenix - a cultural activity center, bar and hostel in the middle of Shanghai. Rather a different role to my last few - but exciting and challenging as we're starting it from scratch and the majority of my work will be done in Chinese. I am writing this while I figure out how to write my plan for the next 12 months in Mandarin. The place is still a building site - but has improved dramatically since I left in December. The bar is on the roof and overlooked by some impressive skyscrapers. I'll put photos up soon.

 

I've had an interesting lesson in recruitment and management today, the first of many I suspect. I hired an intern to help with the project management over the next few months, she was due to arrive in Shanghai from Chongqing and collected by my friend and colleague, Aaron. Sadly, her flight was delayed by 6 hours and due to other commitments, Aaron couldn't meet her. She arrived at the site and was so unimpressed by her surroundings and welcome that she left without speaking to Aaron or me and put herself straight back on a plan to Sichuan and didn't answer any phone calls for 2 days! Remarkable! I tried to be understanding about it, and you'll all be able to imagine how awful I felt that she didn't have a nice welcome, but now I'm just left feeling like she's a bit too delicate for me.

 

Perhaps my jet lag is making me harsh.

 

So, tomorrow I'm writing a business plan in Chinese and recruiting interns who can cope with the odd hitch.

 

 

No births, but deaths and marriages

Yesterday was a beautiful day in Shanghai. I had a lovely walk in the morning around the market outside my hostel. There were firecrackers everywhere strung into heart shapes. Someone was get married. The street was all ready for the bride and groom to return, lots of red paper everywhere, and two of the regular market stalls had a whole range of wedding related fireworks and signs available to buy. Usually both stalls sell socks and tights! I was impressed by the opportunism.

 

Further down the street I found several old men folding squares of silver paper into little origami boats and selling them. I had seen these before but only on TV when there's a funeral. I wondered if perhaps the traditions were linked - perhaps paper boats were for weddings too? No. These little paper boats are for funerals, and as I walked down the street I saw them lift the body into the back of an ambulance. Again, I was impressed that the old men had set up shop right there before the body had even been taken away.

 

I kind of expected to hear about a baby being born, I secretly long to be given an egg painted red (the traditional gift to friends and family from new parents when a bady arrives) and get my hopes up. Alas, no red eggs, no babies, just people going about their business with life going on around them.

The Quest to Find Who Nose

I have been confused about something for almost a week. I have asked numerous Chinese people about it, and I have been getting an even split between embarrassed laughter and claims of not knowing anything about it. In order to elaborate, I must relay a story from the end of my last visit to China.

 

Michelle and I were taking a train to Beijing. The journey is about 12 hours and we could only book the very top bunks of the sleeper train which meant we had fun clambering up and down. We shared our carriage with a young man who was hoping to take an English exam in a few months' time. His Chinese name translates at the Healthy King so that's what I'll call him from now on.

 

The Healthy King was from Beijing and spoke Chinese with the lovely rolling R of the Beijing accent. I used to really hate this sound, but now I love it and tune in to Beijing news here in Shanghai just so I can hear the purring R sound of the Capital. The three of us chatted for a few hours, Michelle will remember my glee at the translation job I was able to do so that she could chat to His Royal Healthiness. Around 11, Michelle climbed the stairs (oh so many stairs) to bedfordshire and the King and I stayed up chatting. It was the first time in a long time that I had a varied conversation with someone in China - usually chats focus on what it's like to learn Chinese, whether or not I like Chinese food and the differences between the West and China. The King and I just had a chat about stuff. Quite late, I clambered up into my vertigo inducing bed and went to sleep.

The next day, HK insisted on walking us to the subway station when we got off the train. Our chat the night before had made us pals and he was very nice to both of us - helping us with bags etc. Then, as we said our farewell, he caught me completely off guard with an incredibly intimate gesture. He stroked the length of my nose with the crook of his forefinger. I was gobsmacked and could hardly explain to Michelle what had happened - she was looking the other way at the time. It's rare to be touched by a Chinese man and even though it was just my nose, it would have been less personal if he's given me a great big kiss!

 

So, moving forward almost 12 months, I was having dinner with my new Big Brother and Big Sister and she stroked his nose in the same way. He was very embarrassed and pushed her away. I asked what the nose stroking was all about and before my Big Sister (usually the one who is very honest about everything) could finish her sentence, my Big Bro said that it meant that Big Sister really really loves him. She slapped him playfully and then tried to explain to me what it really meant - using a verb I don't know - Big Brother stepped in and decided this was not an appropriate conversation for his Little English Sister to have and sent me off to another room!

 

Last night, I was in a taxi home and having a great chat with the driver. He was of the opinion that the best way for me to have fun in China was to have a Chinese fella and an English fella - the Chinese one was to help with my language skills, cultural integration, to make sure I got home at night and to stop me from getting fat and that I should keep my English one so that I can get married and have lots of money. It was entertaining if nothing else. Anyway, as I paid for the taxi we carried on chatting, then he says "English little sister, wait a minute" and stroked the crook of his finger down my nose.

 

So, twice in one year! Two random men have fondled my nose after a nice conversation. But what does it mean?

 

Here are the answers I got today:

 

"A man should never touch a woman's nose"

"It means nothing, are you crazy?"

"Your nose is the key to your heart"

"Are you sure you didn't have something on your face?"

"Why would anyone want to touch your nose?"

 

Who nose!

The Magic of Tofu

I love tofu. And in China that's an easy thing to enjoy, all kinds of tofu every day. In fact, it's only 1pm and I've already eaten four kinds of bean curd today. As soon as vegetarianism comes up over dinner, a Chinese person will tell me how it's great that I can eat so much tofu in China and that it's really good for skin. And it gives me the chance to show off my fancy tofu-related vocabulary while we discuss the different kinds and the best way to serve each one.

 

I know from my dietary studies in the UK that tofu is really good for women in general because it's full of lots of great girlie hormones. Yay for tofu. Yay for it being good for skin and for girls. Yay yay yay.

 

At dinner the other night this topic came up again. It is strange how seemingly random topics suddenly become very normal while I am in China. I flexed my vocab a bit more and said that I'd heard men shouldn't eat too much tofu because of the hormones. My Chinese companions looked at me like I was crazy. And then explained that 'eating tofu' had another meaning. My heart sank as I expected another "my boyfriend masturbates at 3:30" incident, see an earlier post for details. Thankfully, it was not of the same standard! 'Eating tofu' means touching the skin of a woman you don't know. So it's exactly right to say that a man shouldn't eat too much tofu, and that it impacts on hormones, but not for the way I imagined.

Adopted

I have a new family.

 

Following last week's business dinner and all the drinking and toasting and drinking and drinking and feeling very ropey the following day, my Big Brother has adopted me into his family.

 

This week, he organised a dinner to mark my adoption at his little restaurant in the middle of Shanghai. I am always overwhelmed at the generosity of the people I meet in China and the warmth of Big Brother's welcome was enough to make me need a little cry on the way home.

 

My Big Brother is in his 40s, he runs several small restaurants. He is married to my Big Sister, a very beautiful woman who looks nothing like her 40 years. She asked me not to call her Big Sister-in-Law as she doesn't like the word - neither do I so Big Sister suits us both very well. They have a 15 year old son so I have my Little Nephew. Then comes the tricky part - because Big Brother has two nephews, they become my nephews (Big Nephew and 2nd Nephew respectively) despite being older than me. Usually I would call them Big Brother too but because I already have Big Brother, they would have to be 2nd Brother and 3rd Brother.! Are you keeping up with me? These words to describe relationships are wonderful once you get the hang of them, just from the introduction you know how someone fits with someone else and precisely what they relationship is. there's no need for the questions so common in English about whether someone is from your mother's side or your father's side. It's all very clear. That is until you learn that Brother, Sister, Grandma and Cousin can be used to describe someone's boyfriend or girlfriend!  I once had a very confusing conversation with a girl who told me about a time that her brother visited her in the night so she couldn't play in an important basketball match the next day. Her Brother was her period!

 

 During dinner everyone was very kind and polite in a Chinese way, my bowl was filled with all the good stuff, everyone toasted with me at least 3 times and thanks to reading a lot of Amy Tan books while I did my A-levels, I knew that all the complaints about the food were not real. It was hard to keep up though I felt I fared better at returning toasts this time. It was a fun evening and as Big Brother got happier and happier (thanks to several bottles of baijiu and rather a lot of yellow wine) he found a new way to entertain himself. He says "Little Sister" and I reply "Big Brother" and he looks at me in the proud and sweet way that parents look at their kids when they say something funny and cute.

 

Towards the end of the meal, Big Brother asks if I will go downstairs to help him with something. He takes out his phone and starts to make a call, he wants to call our "Mother" so that she can say hello to her new "Daughter". I was rather worried - she's an older lady, it's 10pm at night (rather late in a country where dinner is eaten between 5:30 and 7pm) and as fond of me as Big Brother has become in the last week, I wasn't sure how fond of me his Mother would be! Luckily the booze made his fingers slower so Big Sister managed to come and sort it out before we woke the old lady up!

 

Big Brother calls every day to check that I have eaten and to remind me to get plenty of sleep. I'm going over there next week to make dumplings, I'll take my camera and provide pictures as soon as I can.

To Assume Makes An Ass of U and Me

A few nights ago, I walked home from a very nice evening out with my rather drunk Chinese friend and his very sober American girlfriend. We stopped off for some Yangzhou lamb noodles on the way home. I had lambless Yangzhou lamb noodles of course. The shop was tiny, perhaps just 3 tables and little low plastic stools. I love this kind of place. Grubby, no pretense at all and usually fabulous tasty food which is the sole focus of the experience because the surroundings are so drab.

 

We ordered some food and sat chatting with the very curious staff who had lots of questions for two foreign girls. After a while,  an old man shuffled in and ordered some noodles too. He sat at the table behind me. I was showing a magazine article to one of the waiters. The elderly man asked me a few questions, very standard, where were we from? What were we doing in China? Were we used to Chinese people asking us so many questions? I admit, my answers were as standard as his questions. It was late, I was tired and I really just wanted to eat my noodles and enjoy the chopped green onions sprinkled all over them. The elderly man was no perturbed and continued to ask. And ask and ask. He asked a lot of America, so I translated the questions and answers between my American companion and the elderly man. He asked if I had been to Washington, I said I hadn't and turned back to my noodles.

 

Then, in divine English he says "I've been to Washington" and we all fell about laughing. It was such a shock! It's very common to find young people in China who speak very very good English, but rare in older people. This man was very pleased with his joke! He was a professor who specialises in thermal materials for rockets and missiles. He explained that as a child he studied at a British missionary school in Shanghai, not far from where I am staying. He glossed over what happened during the revolution, but he now lives in Beijing and had just come back to Shanghai to visit his mother. I did not ask how old she was, but figured she must be pretty ancient now.

 

His English was really beautiful to listen to with soft intonation and a gentle mixture of British and Ameican pronunciation. I wanted to ask him to read me a story!

 

He was rather disinterested in me by this point, I imagine because I'd been rather short in my answers earlier. I was humbled.

 

And reminded I should never assume.

 

But of course, I will continue to do so!