GUESS WHO IS RIDING THE BICYCLE Shanghai and China historically have an impressive record in terms of the number of citizens who ride bicycles. It is not by chance that the bestselling model of bicycle in the world is Chinese. [ + ]
GUESS WHO IS RIDING THE BICYCLE
Shanghai and China historically have an impressive record in terms of the number of citizens who ride bicycles. It is not by chance that the bestselling model of bicycle in the world is Chinese. Flying Pigeon one of the most popular vehicles sold anywhere.
The Chinese have always made great use of bicycles, and they are good at it. They use them as trucks, mobile shops (selling products ranging from gardening items to food), whole-family transport, and as a means of crossing the entire city on a daily basis.
In one particular lilong, I get to meet a man who used the pedal of his bike to set in motion a sharpener he had attached to the wheel in order to file and sharpen all kinds of kitchen utensils.
However, the Shanghainese are not in agreement on certain issues, such as:
– Using bicycle lights at night and/or cycle helmets.
– Riding straight, like a Western cyclist. It is hard to shake the feeling that riding in a straight line might actually be more dangerous than navigating the city streets in a more winding, haphazard way… perhaps there is a secret to this?
– Using hand signals to indicate you are about to turn. In this case, there is just one thing that matters: keeping your arms safe, and using your head, eyes and ears, as the rules of the road in this city are quite different…
And… doing any of the above will immediately mark you out as… a foreigner.
HOROSCOPE Tell me which animal you are and I will tell you what kind of person you might be. Being a pig has been proven to open Chinese doors. [ + ]
HOROSCOPE
Tell me which animal you are and I will tell you what kind of person you might be.
Being a pig has been proven to open Chinese doors. Whenever I mention my horoscope sign, it always elicits one of two reactions:
– Ohhh, good!
– Mmm, you are lucky!
MASKS Coming to Shanghai was an experience for all my senses: my nose would be filled with different smells simply crossing from one street corner to another; my sense of touch was mesmerised by new, different surfaces; my ears couldn’t comprehend most of what was going on around me, as they were bombarded with explosions of different sounds everywhere I went; my tongue was happier than ever before, tasting so many different foods and so many different consistencies, compositions and combinations; the way it looked was often at odds from the way it tasted – and, most of the time, it was my eyes that were happily proven wrong. Every day, my eyes would be caught up in a symphony of movements and experiences – and, like the weather in any harbour city, the elements would change day by day, minute by minute. [ + ]
MASKS
Coming to Shanghai was an experience for all my senses: my nose would be filled with different smells simply crossing from one street corner to another; my sense of touch was mesmerised by new, different surfaces; my ears couldn’t comprehend most of what was going on around me, as they were bombarded with explosions of different sounds everywhere I went; my tongue was happier than ever before, tasting so many different foods and so many different consistencies, compositions and combinations; the way it looked was often at odds from the way it tasted – and, most of the time, it was my eyes that were happily proven wrong.
Every day, my eyes would be caught up in a symphony of movements and experiences – and, like the weather in any harbour city, the elements would change day by day, minute by minute. I made a promise to myself to observe more attentively, to concentrate on just one thing at a time and breathe it in, as if I were inspecting it. These inspections would sometimes take less than a minute. Sometimes, they would involve a combination of several observations made at different times, while others would occupy a much longer span of time, of relaxation, depending on whether the element was fixed or in motion. In most cases, without willing it, my brain would conduct a series of categorizations – categorizations that in most cases were proven wrong, because even static objects in Shanghai are constantly changing and moving; being displaced, relocated and dissolved.
The way Shanghainese people dressed on a normal day would always arouse my curiosity. Women especially, on a sunny day, would often wear gloves and large hats, carry umbrellas, and also wear masks – and men, too, would also wear masks. Indeed, after living in Shanghai for a while, there was no way I would contemplate riding my bike without a mask; some of my colleagues would not dare to go outside without one. Paradoxically, these layers of clothing that were meant to keep everything me white, clean and healthy would suppress the senses that were ordinarily revealed to me by Shanghai – the city where it is said that going jogging is more harmful that not exercising at all, as you simply end up inhaling, even more deeply than usual, the reason the Shanghainese don’t see the stars…
PERSONAL SQUARE METRE When you come from the West, many Chinese customs can seem shocking when you first encounter them in Shanghai – actual culture shocks. Food, religion, ways of crossing the street, ways of addressing men, women and foreigners, clothing rules and decorum at the table – everything is different. [ + ]
PERSONAL SQUARE METRE
When you come from the West, many Chinese customs can seem shocking when you first encounter them in Shanghai – actual culture shocks.
Food, religion, ways of crossing the street, ways of addressing men, women and foreigners, clothing rules and decorum at the table – everything is different. Many questions suddenly present themselves: what things can and can’t I talk about? Then there’s the tactile aspect, too: am I allowed to touch someone? Are they allowed to touch me?
One element that quickly emerges in guise of an answer to some of these questions is space.
When queuing, waiting, taking public transport, buying tickets for the train (or indeed tickets for anything at all), dancing, whatever, remember this: your space is everyone’s space; your square meter of “personal space” doesn’t belong to you alone.