Sensual City Studio

FEELING SPECIAL 3

We started walking through the lanes, past the many shops. And then, at the junction between the compound and the lilong, a man took out a microphone and started singing. Some people nearby started singing along, too, while others continued to play mah-jong or folded their arms and just listened. We decided to go to the park. It was a hard decision initially, as so many unexpected things were happening in the street and it seemed that even looking away for just a second would mean missing something amazing. I took him by the hand, and we entered the park. He didn’t have to wait long to experience more of Shanghai.
There was a big group of Shanghainese people dancing in couples, and after a while my dad joined them. He was dancing with a woman to music he had never heard before. This became our ritual: we would sit down to eat and then go to the street corner or the park, and then sometimes someone would take my dad’s hand and offer him a folding chair, so that he could sit in the first row and hear that night’s singer more clearly. Othertimes, he would be distracted, and someone would ask him (us) to come back to their home, in one of the lilongs, so that they could explain to us the beauty of the wooden staircase, the spiritual and material value of it, and for how many generations it had served the family. We couldn’t speak Mandarin or Shanghainese, but that was never an issue.
He became like Shanghai: sleepless. And when he had to leave Shanghai, he left behind a whole city that had become a home.

UMBRELLA

I’m walking in the sunlight, most probably under the shade of the umbrella I’m carrying. I look up and down from the pedestrian bridges. I push my bike along, and linger a while on the bridge, breathing the air carried down from the top of the creek, or simply looking down, surrendering my attention to the red lights on one side and the white lights on the other. How many people are travelling in each direction? I feel secure above all of them, following my own rhythm.

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.

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.

喜  (xĭ) means « happiness ». 喜 + 喜 = 囍 (shuāng xĭ) – DOUBLE HAPPINESS

Double happiness has a beautiful connotation in Chinese. It is the addition of single entities and its conversion into a double entity. Being double happy became a common expression symbolizing love, since love multiplies when it is shared.
It can be found on nearly every kind of item: rugs, clothes, fabrics, matchboxes, ceramics, doorbells, invitations, teaware, jewellery, cigarettes… These items are placed everywhere, and are essential items for any weddings, birthdays, anniversaries and New Year celebrations.
However, the moment when I really came into contact with this notion was when I solved my first dilemma on arrival in Shanghai, namely the question of what to smoke. At first, I tried the Western cigarettes, which didn’t taste the same as back home – too strong. Later on, I chose the packaging that appealed to me most: a golden packet with the Shanghai TV tower on it… it later proved to be a nice souvenir for friends, but not something to be smoked.
Afterwards, I start asking others and observing what the Chinese would smoke. There were so many different brands, but one caught my eye: a white packet with two red stripes at the top and bottom, with this 囍 symbol in red – a symbol that I had seen somewhere before… the double happiness symbol. It was not as bad as others I had tried before, but after a long night I would lose my voice for a while; this double happiness seemed to be double strength, too. Indeed, it turns out it has 15 mg of tar per cigarette, compared to 10 mg for a Marlboro Red.
After doing some research, I discovered that this cigarette used to be called “Happy Days”, and its literal translation “Red Double Happiness” is a truly Shanghainese cigarette brand created in 1906 by what is not only the oldest but also the biggest tobacco company in the People’s Republic of China.

THREE

We were walking down – well, it could have been any street in Shanghai, really. Someone offered us a “lucky red envelope”, explaining to us that this envelope would bring us wealth. Inside, there was a red card, with the symbol of this year’s animal painted in golden brushstrokes.
My friend looked away, but I was curious and wanted one – two, in fact. I thought it would be a nice present to offer to someone like me, someone superstitious.
He said that he could sell us one envelope each. That would not be a problem. However, if it was just me buying, I could have one or three envelopes, five, even, if I wanted. But he wouldn’t sell me two, or four.
At the time, I didn’t understand the principle, which is in fact very simple: odd numbers are lucky. Chinese tradition dictates that material things should be given to others in odd-numbered quantities. Public holidays, too, last either one or three days. When venerating a statue or an image   of an ancestor, you should bow three times, or five times, or once… Seven or nine times would be better still. After nine, though, the golden number is twelve – an even number.

SHARING FOOD

A dear friend came to Shanghai to visit me. Over the previous couple of months, I had been seeing such fast development, not just in terms of buildings going up and coming down, but also in the choice of restaurants available. Not only were international restaurants starting to appear but, more importantly, Chinese cuisine was becoming more prominent in restaurants. This made my life in Shanghai even richer. Although food unifies this country, the variety of options available in China  is endless. Different food customs are passed down through the generations, whether regional cuisine or food associated with certain rituals. For every ritual and custom, there is something to be eaten at a specific time and in a specific place. In particular, there are daily rituals – the familiar rituals of day-to-day life. Sharing food, sharing the same food from the same plates at the same table, for instance. The moment when Chinese people eat together is a moment of joy. The Chinese will hold meetings with business partners around a dining table. The difference in the West is that we would often rather go somewhere for a drink. The Chinese, on the other hand, go somewhere to eat. Of course, you can drink while eating. But the importance of the restaurant must not be ignored.