Finally, something America and China can agree on

Friends! Important news!

As we all know, things have been contentious between the US and China recently. 中美关系不好! Thanks to the two very important recently obtained highly classified documents shared below we can see that there is something that both countries can agree on at the very highest levels of government!

Read on to find out more!

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Anti-hip: 17 Nice Off-the-beaten-track Coffee Shops in Shanghai

We are creatures of habit. Partly out of necessity (commute/work/commute), but even when not, we end up frequenting the same places. Why?

The calculus in my mind goes something like this:

Me: Wow! A free couple of hours! What should we do?
Also me: Let’s check out a new place!
Me (suddenly wary): Like what do you have in mind?
Also Me: Let’s have a look on SmartShanghai. They have good recommendations.
Me: Sure, but what if it’s no good?
Also me: What do you mean?
Me: Like maybe there’s no seats. Or the seats aren’t comfortable. Or the soundtrack sucks. Or the happy hour deal is crap. Why not just go to the same places we always go to? Those are sure bets.
Also me (whining): But we always go to those places!
Me: And for good reason!
Also me: You’re lame, you never want to try anything new!
Me: Look, buddy, it’s pure cost/benefit analysis. You don’t get that much free time as it is, why not spend somewhere you know you’ll walk away satisfied?
Also me: Nothing risked, nothing gained, bro!

(fistfight breaks out)

Most of my free time is spent in paralysing internal conversations like this.

Over the holidays I had some time on my hands and I was determined to find some new places. So I went exploring, panning for gold in the great stream of Shanghai openings and closings, looking for places to do some writing, places which would hit the trifecta of providing decent coffee, quiet, and a bit of inspiration, preferably off-the-beaten-track with nary a wanghong (网红) in sight.

Here’s what I found.

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Something About Travel

I took my family for a weekend staycation, the Mandarin Oriental Shanghai, club level, all the amenities, all the special treatment. Ordinarily we might have flown to Hong Kong or Osaka or taken the high speed train to Nanjing, but that’s all off the table now and it’s not clear if, when, and in what form it’s ever coming back. The experience reminded me just how much I’ve been missing travel.

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Something About Masks

A few days ago I needed a new pair of headphones. So I went to a mobile phone shop outside my compound. I had to wait while the proprietor went to his other shop to get what I wanted, leaving me alone with the shop lady and her son who was playing video games in the back. We struck up a conversation.

I learned she’s from Fujian and grew up speaking Minnan dialect and only learned Putonghua later in life. She’s afraid she doesn’t speak it well. Her son has a foreign teacher, also from America, but he doesn’t speak any Chinese. We bonded over both being outsiders in Shanghai.

The proprietor came back. As I paid and turned to leave, the woman called to me. I saw she was holding something. When I got a step closer I saw it was a face mask in a clear plastic baggie. She held it up carefully, encouraging me take it out. It was the last one in the baggie. “Take it, you can use it.”

At home I set it aside. I almost surely won’t use it unless I absolutely have to, but neither could I bring myself to toss it, not when so many people on are going without. Who would have thought that the world would come to a place where a simple face mask could be a gesture of friendship between strangers?

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The Virus Diaries

Will Connelly* is a friend of mine. He’s a web developer for a company doing an online restaurant booking app. He lives in Jiading or Putuo or Huangpu – one of those Shanghai districts that people sometimes mention but no one is really sure where it is or whether it really exists. Like most everyone else, Will has been living under virus lockdown for the last two weeks. Unlike everyone else though he’s been writing down his thoughts and experiences.

He shared it with me and I thought it gave an interesting insight into the mind of someone going through this. Not someone on the front lines in a fever hospital and not someone hanging out in Bangkok waiting for the all-clear, just one of the millions of people caught in the cross fire.

With his permission, I post his words here.

*names have all been changed.

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Shanghai: the Real River Town

Shanghai (上海) may have an ocean (海)in its name, but it is and always has been a river town.

When I first came to Shanghai in the late 1990s, I lived in a flat on Changle Lu. There, at night, deep in the FFC, I could hear the foghorns from the big ships on the Huangpu booming out across the city, deep and plaintive. Around the same time, Lou Ye’s seminal film Suzhou Creek came out, a compelling noir set against against the filthy wrack of its namesake, which announced the arrival of the 6th generation of Chinese filmmakers. But after that Shanghai’s rivers and creeks went silent, absorbed into the background of the city’s race outward, upward and ahead.

But things were happening. Successive five-year plans saw Shanghai’s riverways quietly cleaned up. The smoke belching barges that plied Suzhou Creek were phased out. Waste-dumping factories were moved away. Old brick warehouses were bought up and retrofitted with cafes, restaurants, condos and co-working. Bit by bit, section by section landscaping was introduced along the banks of Shanghai’s many waterways. In 2008 the Cool Docks (老码头) emerged out of the warren of the south Bund and then with Expo things really went light speed. River-front property once again commanded top dollar.

But more importantly, Shanghai’s rivers once again commanded people’s interest. In late 2017 the threads came together when the Huangpu Riverwalk was completed. The riverwalk, which encompasses both Pudong and Puxi, runs uninterrupted for over 25 kilometres. It has running lanes and bike lanes and rest stops and grassy lawns and public sculpture and places for kids to play. I’ve walked and cycled it on both sides – from Yangpu Bridge in the north to Xupu Bridge in the south.

And it’s not tourist window dressing; it’s a living part of the city. I find myself drawn there almost every weekend, and not only because I have a kid and live in Pudong. I go because I can find scenes like this:

sunset on the Huangpu

And this:


And this:

A Little History

The Huangpu River is first mentioned in historical records in the late Song. In the centuries before that it was the Dong (East) River people wrote about. The Dong drained Taihu Lake, debouching into the Bay of Hangzhou near Pinghu, but sometime in the Southern Song it silted up. Consequently, flood control dykes were built up, diverting it to the east past Songjiang, which galvanised Songjiang to become the pre-eminent settlement in the area. After flowing east for a bit, the Dong connected up with the Huangpu, near the place where it takes its famously sharp 90 degree dogleg to the north. From there it linked up with the Wusong around present-day Jiaxing Lu.

At the time, it must be said, neither the Wusong nor the Huangpu were particularly impressive — mud banks and barely 50 meters across. Both silted up regularly. In the Ming debate raged in official circles over which river should be prioritized for flood control. The Huangpu won out and was dredged 9 times over a 100 year period, which also caused the place where the Huangpu emptied into the Yangtze to change from Gaoqiao to its present location – Wusongkou.

By the 15th century, the Huangpu had achieved its present shape, though it was still narrow compared to the 400m berth it commands today. It was only in the early Qing that the Huangpu was finally made wide and deep enough to carry ocean-bound cargo ships, at which point it finally usurped Suzhou Creek as Shanghai’s primary waterway. By the late 19th century China’s modern industrial revolution was in full swing on its banks in the form of vast shipbuilding yards, warehouses and factories.

Shanghai’s Other Waterways

Beyond the Huangpu and Wusong many other creeks and canals have left their mark. Shanghai’s rivers, creeks, canals and waterways – those still with us and those long gone – form a palimpsest of the city’s history and character.

There was the Yangjingbang which for half a century separated the British and French Concessions and today is Yanan Dong Lu. It was known as one of the foulest waterways in Shanghai because neither the French nor the English would accept financial responsibility for its upkeep.

In the south of the city, Longhua Creek was famous for peach tree groves lining its banks and its view of Longhua Temple pagoda. Writers waxed poetic about the reflection of the pagoda on the river in autumn, widely publicising it as one of the “must-see” sights of old Shanghai. The creek is still still there, but the peach groves are long gone.

Lujiazui – now a major financial capital – was for centuries a sandy bank built up by debouchment of Suzhou Creek. There, between the skyscrapers, you can find tiny little Huayuan Shiqiao Road. It’s the last vestige of the Lu Family (the “Lu” of Lujiazui), having been named for a bridge which crossed the creek which demarcated a boundary of their estate.

Before it was a major traffic artery, Zhaojiabang was a canal connecting Xujiahui (and the little villages to the west of town) with the Chinese old city. Along its banks lived the poorest of Shanghai’s poor. Entire families crammed into small wooden rooms which hung precariously over the water, sometimes one on top of the other.

Lichongjing – today Fahuazhen Lu – was once lined by stately Chinese mansions and boasted a grand Buddhist temple – Fahua Temple. All that remains of the temple are two ancient trees on the campus of Jiaotong University and the man-made lake at Tianshan Park. The lake was formed in 1959 when earth was dug up to fill in the last stretch of Lichongjing.

These are just a few examples. Somehow it is both ironic and fitting that the Yangtze, one of the world’s truly legendary rivers, hardly figures into this story at all.

Shanghai’s Ferries

The first bridge to cross the Huangpu wasn’t built until the 1950s. Before that it was just ferries. And for most of those decades, the ferries weren’t much more than family owned sampans enjoying varying degrees of official patronage. On January 5, 1911 Shanghai’s first municipal ferry service went into service, connecting Donggou in Pudong to the Bund. It was also Shanghai’s first ferry service using a motor-powered boat. In the late 1920s, the Shanghai government stepped in to regularise the business. By the 1937 there were 6 official ferry lines connecting Puxi and Pudong. The grandest of them all, though, was the Number 6.

The Number 6 made the 24km run between the main Bund wharf (at Beijing Xi Lu) and Wusongkou where the Huangpu meets the Yangtze. It ran under steam power, could carry over 800 passengers and was divided into three classes. First class boasted porcelain tea service, a bar, leather sofas and indoor plumbing. By the 1930s, riding ferries was no longer just a means of crossing the transportation, but a form of local amusement.

What would you see if you had been a passenger on the Number 6 on a summer’s day in 1934, sipping a highball and gazing out the window at the world rolling by?

Leaving behind the stately Georgian and Edwardian architecture of the Bund, you first pass by the mouth of Suzhou Creek spanned by the Waibaidu Bridge, made of black iron. Then comes the Astor, Asia’s finest hotel at the time. Farther along you see brand new warehouses and factories, large imposing brick structures, avatars of China’s dawning Industrial Age, then the distinctly turreted outline of the municipal waterworks – still there after all those years. This is followed by the big shipbuilding yards of Yangshupu.

Shortly thereafter, on the Pudong side, just before the boat swings to the north, the unmistakable curling eaves and yellow-painted walls of Qingning Temple heave into view, now long gone. Across from the temple on the Puxi side you pass the southern tip of Zhoujiadao, a sandbar being reclaimed and built out into the Huangpu’s only island. Today it is called Fuxing Dao and in 1949 it would be the last piece of the mainland Chiang Kai-shek touched as he fled ahead of the Red Army.

After that, the landscape turns more rural. Fisherman bringing in nets stare back at you. You pass ferry terminals every few kilometres, arrayed in pairs, one on each side of the river. These are wooden structures with beamed roofs, sometimes built over the river on wooden stilts, sometimes built on pontoons which drift up and down with the tide. Taitong Lu, Qichangzhan then finally Gaoqiao ferry – all of them still there.

Beyond that, the riverbank becomes silted mud and waving reeds until you get to Wusongkou where a retaining wall and fortifications betray its military importance. After glimpsing the yawning girth of the Yangzte, your boat turns around for the return trip.

See It for Yourself

The good news is you can still make this trip. A boat runs once every Saturday and Sunday (and Chinese holidays) leaving from Shiliupu around noon and coming back around 4. It’s a nice boat, a big boat, a satisfying answer to legendary Number 6. A ticket runs less than RMB200 and can be bought at Shiliupu. It’s not as crowded as the cruises which go no farther than the Yangpu Bridge. I took it on National Day last year and had the entire open air upper deck to myself.

The ticket comes with a buffet lunch and a show. Both can be skipped. Instead, pack your lunch, sit back and enjoy the view as the story of global commerce unfolds around you on a staggering scale. Huge ships in drydock, massive gantries loading and unloading a mountain of yellow, blue and red shipping crates, giant grain elevators feeding mammoth silos. There are even a couple submarines moored out there if you keep your eyes peeled.

At the end you’re rewarded with a stunning view of the mighty Yangtze.

WusongkouIt’s a very nice thing to do on a sunny Saturday, a reminder of the lifeblood we live on here one way or the other, a reminder of the stuff flowing under our feet, always ready to take us further in or further away.


Wandering Earth and the Chinese Millennial

There’s a new Chinese movie out – Wandering Earth. Chinese people are pretty excited about it. It made a bajillion RMB during Spring Festival. It’s currently the second-highest rated film on Douban. It’s been written about extensively by Western media, which unanimously crowned it “China’s first sci-fi blockbuster”. It accomplished the rare feat of uniting both Western film critics and Chinese government officials in praise. Intrigued, I went to see it. I did find something very interesting in it, but not what you might expect.

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Amongst White Clouds: the Buddhist Films of Edward A. Burger

I was depressed the other day. The kind of feeling where basically everything seems like shit and you don’t have any clue why you still live in China and, as a consequence, you are hateful toward everything. This is nothing to be alarmed about. It happens from time to time. When I fall into this state of mind, I know it is time to go back to basics and put some effort into remembering the good parts of being a foreigner here. In this case, that led me back to Edward A. Burger.

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The Afterlives of the Nanjing Massacre

December 13, 2017 marks the 80th anniversary of the Nanjing Massacre. Not much noise about it so far, not even appreciable uptick in Baidu search, but that should change now that the Party Congress is over. At least there will be buzz surrounding the re-opening of the Nanjing Massacre Memorial Museum which has been closed the last four months for “renovations”.

I reckon by now pretty much everyone is familiar with the facts. Over the course of six weeks the Central China Area Branch Army of the Imperial Japanese Army sacked Nanjing, killing 40,000-300,000 Chinese civilians and perpetrating 20,000-80,000 rapes, depending on whom you talk to. Babies were bayoneted. Old people were slaughtered. It was a bad time, a grim time, a low point in a century not short of low points.

For shocking survivor stories check out this website. If that’s not enough, then watch Lu Chuan’s 2009 film Nanjing: City of Life and Death (it’s on Youtube). It’s fictionalised, but punches you in the gut. There’s a scene where, score by score, Chinese men, hands bound, are herded into a corral and machine gunned into oblivion. In another scene a little girl is tossed out of the window while her father watches. In another a woman is raped until she becomes a raving lunatic. It’s horrible, horrible stuff.

Despite all this, the Nanjing Massacre remains controversial. It’s not so much the facts that are in question – mainstream Japanese historians don’t dispute them – it’s their representation, or lack of, that causes the problems.

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