Muddled

Today we drove out to Zhujiajiao–a two thousand year old water town full of ancient canals, and bridges. They even have gondola-like Chinese boat taxis that navigate the breathtaking waterways. At their temple, I sounded a giant gong that echoed throughout the town for good luck. Soon after, I was convinced by an eager official to double my fortune through an ancient tradition of throwing coins through a small hole to hit a bell in the temple courtyard. I missed it by a hair in the end, I couldn’t quite understand him but I either gained a little fortune for my valiant effort, or lost it all through my failure.

On another note, I finally decided on a Chinese name. Li Hao Ran (李浩然). In China, the surname (our lastname) comes first and the given name (two syllables) comes second. I chose Li because it’s the closest thing to Livingston in one syllable. The character Hao came from my Chinese immigrant student in the U.S. who I was tutoring in English. She told me that she loved the character hao and that it seemed to fit me well. Ran came from Amanda’s cousin in Shanghai. I mentioned to her I was looking for a name, and the next night she came to me before I went to bed with a whole list of research on different characters. This is just one example of how amazing and welcoming the Chinese people I’ve met so far have been. Anyway, she helped me to find rong as a good match for the rest of my name and personality. Together, my name means “Vast”, which I think is pretty cool. I’ll no longer have to spend five minutes trying to explain how to say “Grant” to every person I meet, which is even better.

Just got back from a a journey up to the top of the Pearl Tower. It’s a radio tower on steroids that looks like its straight from the year 2100. It dominates the skyline, despite being the shortest of the mega-scrapers that dot the Pudong peninsula. We waited in line for three and a half hours to take an elevator up to the top where there’s an observation deck with a glass floor. It’s an amazing view, but the real story was the line that wrapped around the building three times.

Standing in line was a battle. An epic three hour long struggle to hold our ground and resist the never ceasing attacks of an old man, his hefty wife, and their twenty-orso year old grandson to squeeze in front of us. Amanda and I made a pretty solid barrier for about two hours and fifty six minutes. But with the elevator in sight, my back was hurting so I leaned against the wall. Three seconds later, the man had jumped between us and wedged himself in the foot of space between Amanda and the Japanese tourists in front of us. I couldn’t believe it. Then, the doors opened to the elevator and the crowd surged forward–fighting to get on. If you know me well, you know that I don’t let these sort of things slide. I reclaimed my position to block the rest of the family, but it was of no use. I was bulldozed over and had to wait for the next elevator. Not that the three minutes mattered after three hours, but it was the principle. I was not yet tough enough for China.

Strangely enough. this sort of thing isn’t uncommon. Waiting in line is the same as walking down the street, or driving for that matter. Everything seems competitive and somewhat chaotic. I think it might derive from the ultra concentrated and massive amount of people. When in public, there is no such thing as personal space, and you have to fight to get on the subway, find a taxi, or get assistance.

Driving is scarier than in Napoli–which is saying a lot. Oncoming cars will randomly enter your lane only meters from you, and your only option is to quickly swerve into the median, the shoulder, or something else. Also, a three lane highway will routinely have four or even five rows of cars. in China, the shoulders, lanes, and traffic signals are only suggestions rarely followed. In the states, a car will generally stop if its a good distance away and its going slow when you’re crossing a road. In China, they will speed up.

Although entirely different from anything I’ve ever experienced, I’m already getting used to it. Something about myself that’s always bothered me is that whenever  I brush or slightly bump into someone, I always say “sorry”. Since I got to DC two years ago I wanted to stop this because in the needlessly bitter east coast the people would look at me with the expression of “yeah, you should be”. Then I would be angry that I had said anything at all. After a few days in Shanghai, I’m a changed man. I knock into someone, and I keep on walking.

The last couple of days have been nothing if not an adventure. I arrived in Shanghai last night after the longest flight of my life from Chicago through San Francisco. Somehow, I always get people in front of me who know nothing of airplane etiquette. I don’t exactly fit into an economy seat well in any circumstance, being 6’4, but having the seatback in front of me forced all the down makes the fit impossible and my mood less than pleasant, to say the least. Nevertheless, a few knees to the back, a strategically aimed air vent, and thirteen hours later, I landed in Shanghai. My classes don’t start at Beijing University until September 3, so I’m spending the week with my friend Amanda(who’s also in the program) at her aunt and uncle’s house here in Shanghai.

The first place we went to was the Shanghai Museum. It’s a massive collection of artifacts from five thousand years of Chinese history. It includes the first chinese coins, five thousand year old pottery, jade artwork from every dynasty, ancient Chinese watercolor paintings, and countless other relics. It was a great place to start because it placed everything in the context of China’s ancient civilization and culture, which is easy to forget when you’re in Shanghai–one of the most modern cities I’ve ever seen.

After some amazing steamed dumplings we headed toward the Bund–a riverfront street of European-style buildings from Shanghai’s 1920’s heyday–and crossed the Huangpu River by ferry to Pudong–the ultra modern skyscraper peninsula across from the old downtown.

The thing that’s been most striking about about Shanghai has been how dynamic the city is. Twenty years ago there were no skyscrapers in Shanghai. Today, hundreds of ultra-tall buildings tower over the city and thousands of high rises dot the landscape. In the U.S., we have struggled for years to build the “Chicago Spire” or the “Freedom tower”, with former stuck in limbo and the latter years late and still under construction. It’s also interesting to see the paradox of Shanghai’s ultra-modern style within the context of a developing country. It’s a strange contrast of rich and poor, old and new, high-tech and ancient.

All-in-all its been an amazing first couple of days. I’m still attempting to decide on a new “Chinese name”. Although I like “Grant”, no one outside of English speaking countries can manage to say it without it being utterly butchered. Hopefully I’ll have one before I make it to Beijing.