A SHANGHAINESE DAY 2 I imagine what my life would have been like if I had been a native Shanghainese grandmother… Like the others of my generation, we would all speak the same dialect, and take full advantage of our home, Shanghai. I get up at around 4.30 a.m., and meet known and unknown friends in order to exercise: tai chi fan, tai chi, dancing or a martial art. [ + ]
A SHANGHAINESE DAY 2
I imagine what my life would have been like if I had been a native Shanghainese grandmother… Like the others of my generation, we would all speak the same dialect, and take full advantage of our home, Shanghai. I get up at around 4.30 a.m., and meet known and unknown friends in order to exercise: tai chi fan, tai chi, dancing or a martial art. I could go to the park, to the street corner where the lilong and the high-rise compound meet, or to the deserted pedestrian promenade. An hour later, I tidy up my house, carefully say my prayers to my ancestors, with the help of incense that cleanses both the air and the energies in the house. Breakfast should be salty, as we lose lots of water at night. I wake up the only son of my only son, and help him to get ready for school. I go to the market and prepare lunch; and then I sit and talk to my neighbours about the latest news in the lilong – who has moved in, who has moved out, who has got married and who has died. After lunch, I’d better take a nap.
[ - ]INAUGURATION Happiness is not silent in Shanghai. When a boy is born, or when a happy couple gets married, or when a couple moves into the new home they have bought together , or when a shop opens its doors for the first time… all these events are good reasons to show one’s happiness to the entire neighbourhood and beyond. [ + ]
INAUGURATION
Happiness is not silent in Shanghai. When a boy is born, or when a happy couple gets married, or when a couple moves into the new home they have bought together , or when a shop opens its doors for the first time… all these events are good reasons to show one’s happiness to the entire neighbourhood and beyond. Rows of red firecrackers are set off, red ornaments adorn the street, and photographs galore are taken.
[ - ]ANCESTORS 2 Investing in a coffin is what many work their whole lives for. Some acquire it very early on; owing to its size, it tends to become part of the furniture, in some cases being used as a shelf, a bed, a table, or an armoire. [ + ]
ANCESTORS 2
Investing in a coffin is what many work their whole lives for. Some acquire it very early on; owing to its size, it tends to become part of the furniture, in some cases being used as a shelf, a bed, a table, or an armoire. It is typically painted and decorated, always ready to serve.
There are still some cemeteries, as in ancient Chinese times, where there are “tomb guards” – guardians who are paid to accompany the ancestor to his or her eternal bodily home. These are real human beings, in flesh and blood, who will talk to the ancestor, regale him or her with stories of those left behind, and, of course, eat with the ancestor, for whom a fresh bowl of rice is always provided, but with just one chopstick placed on top, as the other chopstick is in the world of the afterlife, with the ancestor.
The importance of this coffin, this house, is of indisputable importance for Chinese ancestors, as it is their perpetual home, as well as for their relatives, so that they are able to uphold the values of filial piety, passed on from generation to generation.
KITCHEN 2 Walking around Shanghai, it is easy to become obsessed with discovering every street, looking into courtyards, taking pictures and videos of everything, literally everything. Each layer of the city, each smile, each movement of each living being and object, combined with the abstract aspects of this city, all makes you drift. [ + ]
KITCHEN 2
Walking around Shanghai, it is easy to become obsessed with discovering every street, looking into courtyards, taking pictures and videos of everything, literally everything. Each layer of the city, each smile, each movement of each living being and object, combined with the abstract aspects of this city, all makes you drift. Soon enough, you fall in love with their food, present in every corner of the city, so ingrained into their culture. Then, as you move around, you suddenly realize that kitchens in China actually belong outside the house. When I asked why, my Chinese friends would simply reply, “It is dangerous to cook inside; Chinese food is made to be cooked outside.” I keep walking, further and further, and let myself be absorbed by this city, which I start calling home.
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