UNDERWEAR Buying a bra was a conscious decision. Getting new clothes, shoes, going to the tailor, could all have happened to me at any moment, as spontaneous decisions. [ + ]
UNDERWEAR
Buying a bra was a conscious decision. Getting new clothes, shoes, going to the tailor, could all have happened to me at any moment, as spontaneous decisions. Going to buy a bra, somehow, was different.
I went with a friend of mine. We saw some amazing bra systems. Truly ingenious systems. Some seemed to attach to your back with just a single strap, while others featured elaborate patterns of straps that would transform into another, different pattern in order to support the breasts, almost like a piece of origami.
Others didn’t seem to need any breasts inside them, as they were already satisfied with the cotton, gel or water pads contained within them.
I decided to try one of the origami bras, which would subtly tattoo my back with a kind of butterfly motif. Inside the changing-room cubicle, however, I realized that trying on this bra would be more than a simple choice; it would be a major challenge.
I stood there, thinking I had understood the system, only for everything to fall apart when I opened it. I tried to put it back together in every way imaginable, recomposing its intricate form and attempting to fit myself into it, but things didn’t quite work out as I had hoped… and by this time, quite some time had passed. The woman in the shop decided to ask how I was doing. Hearing my answer in bad, breathless Chinese, she decided that she had to come into the cubicle to help me. She looked at me, and then, with a series of almost computational movements, she solved the problem, and I had the bra in place, with everything exactly where it should be. She looked at me and asked if I would like the bra; I simply couldn’t believe what had happened, that someone could just walk in and do that.
Once my friend and I had bought these masterpieces, we both came to the conclusion that this had been a perfect Shanghainese experience. Back in the West, no one would have ever dared to do this – to barge into your cubicle and dress you, essentially – and I wouldn’t ever have allowed it, not by a long chalk. But here, in a city where the borders between public and private aren’t really fixed, in a city whose inhabitants feel at ease everywhere they go, where pyjamas can be deemed the perfect outdoor attire for the day’s activities, where my kitchen is everyone’s kitchen, it seemed normal. The boundaries are drawn differently here.
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.
BLUE DRAGON One of my happiest days in Shanghai was actually the saddest for many children. On this day, I passed through urban corridors, where the city sometimes becomes a village – a village full of recollections, memories, and rituals to improve people’s lives. [ + ]
BLUE DRAGON
One of my happiest days in Shanghai was actually the saddest for many children. On this day, I passed through urban corridors, where the city sometimes becomes a village – a village full of recollections, memories, and rituals to improve people’s lives.
In a country where farming is fast declining, many children in the city, on this day, had to sacrifice their appearance in some way – for example, by having their hair cut off – in order to ensure that a faraway region – where they have never been, that they don’t even know exists, but where their parents used to live happily – will receive abundant rain and be forever rid of insects. Houses are cleaned, popcorn is eaten, and women do not sew, so as to prevent any needles puncturing the eyes of the dragon, who raises his head on this day. Once the house has been cleaned from top to bottom, some people spread plant ashes throughout and around their home, so that the dragon will feel welcome, inciting him to provide plenty of rain for good harvests.
MIMICS It is remarkable how you can have long conversations “just” using hand movements, facial contractions, bodily contortions and so forth… You find that there is always a way to communicate… well, maybe… actually, no, not always. The way Westerners represent drinking with a hand gesture, for instance, might turn out to be the gesture for the number six in Chinese; the number eight might be used for indicating a person or object; and the number ten might mean to be close to someone. [ + ]
MIMICS
It is remarkable how you can have long conversations “just” using hand movements, facial contractions, bodily contortions and so forth… You find that there is always a way to communicate… well, maybe… actually, no, not always.
The way Westerners represent drinking with a hand gesture, for instance, might turn out to be the gesture for the number six in Chinese; the number eight might be used for indicating a person or object; and the number ten might mean to be close to someone. Most of these hand gestures correspond to the way we learned to make shadow animals on the walls, with our parents, before going to sleep. The way Westerners usually represent eating doesn’t mean anything to most Chinese people… but you can always keep trying… until the person on the receiving end gets bored and leaves, that is.
COLD MEAT 1 China is a country where the boundaries between rural and urban are theoretical borders: borders that have become imaginary over time, in the sense that there is neither a true end nor a true beginning to the city and the country, with no starting point and no projected end. These borders are marked only by the points of embarkation and disembarkation where hundreds and thousands of humans pass each day, leaving their families and/or their previous existences, leaving behind the city where they grew up, as it is time to go back to the mother tree – as the Chinese say, “Though a tree grows a thousand feet high, the leaves must fall down and return to its roots”. [ + ]
COLD MEAT 1
China is a country where the boundaries between rural and urban are theoretical borders: borders that have become imaginary over time, in the sense that there is neither a true end nor a true beginning to the city and the country, with no starting point and no projected end. These borders are marked only by the points of embarkation and disembarkation where hundreds and thousands of humans pass each day, leaving their families and/or their previous existences, leaving behind the city where they grew up, as it is time to go back to the mother tree – as the Chinese say, “Though a tree grows a thousand feet high, the leaves must fall down and return to its roots”. They are leaving without knowing for how long, some with their whole family, others on their own. Leaving in order to accomplish their dreams, or the dreams of their family, or leaving to follow in others’ footsteps, in order to give another generation the opportunity to dream. Leaving to see those who were left behind, leaving to help their family at harvest time, leaving to sweep their ancestors’ tombs and to preserve traditions such as filial piety. Coming back to take care of a grandchild, coming back to work, coming back to re-form a family unit, coming back to study and become THE ONE. Coming back to discover, to become attached; coming back to keep promises and to make dreams come true. Each of these individual stories comes together in one place: Shanghai Railway Station.
[ - ]CONFUCIUS AND LEARNING I came to a Confucius temple, and a school. I understood, then, the link between the roots of beliefs passed on from one generation to another, in the spatial sense: the inseparable link between Confucius and knowledge in China. [ + ]
CONFUCIUS AND LEARNING
I came to a Confucius temple, and a school. I understood, then, the link between the roots of beliefs passed on from one generation to another, in the spatial sense: the inseparable link between Confucius and knowledge in China.
When a friend of mine arrived, she had many items with her: incense sticks, paper, red silk thread, and a wooden panel.
The transformation of these items then started to take place.
On the paper, she told me to write all my needs and hopes concerning my studies. Then, by adding the red string to them, they would become “gaokao [university entrance exam] wishes”.
The wooden panels became “prayer cards”, a tradition that is believed to have originated in this very temple in Shanghai.
Together we then hung them in a tree, where other students’ prayers already hung, so that they would be received by Confucius .
Before that, though, we paid our respects by kneeling in front of Confucius and lighting three incense sticks each, which we then placed inside a huge vase made for this purpose.
After finishing our respective rituals, we went to one of the largest book markets in Shanghai, where an amazing array of rare books, manuscripts, comics, propaganda posters and other items from various Chinese eras were waiting to be discovered.