Partying with money

More eventful than last weekend's sickfest, anyway. On Friday, I attempted to go to that Guangzhou folk performance at "Live Bar" but when I got there, it was a tiny room with a bar. One woman was talking alone on her cell phone in the dark. She looked very surprised to see me and I didn't have the Chinese skills to even say, "Music?" nor did she have any English so we just kind of looked at each other and said, "oh oh sorry sorry." Then I went home. Sucks as I was looking forward to that show for the last 3 weeks! The good thing of the evening was that the bar was in a somewhat far off neighborhood and I could hear the difference in the dialect of the people on the street-- they were speaking Shanghaiese as opposed to straight Mandarin. It's much faster and more mumbly, everything runs together.

Marilyn Manson graffiti on the way there?


On Saturday, I met Maggie at 5 and we went to dinner with one of her Chinese-only speaking friends at a Hong Kong chain near People's Square. After dinner, we walked around window shopping and sat outside the Coffee Bean for awhile then went into a mall for shopping-shopping. Generally, I despise shopping, especially at a mall (walking!) but this was ok because it was new and different. The shopping malls of America all have the same stores so if you've seen one, you've seen them all but the stores here are new to me so it was more interesting. I didn't buy anything but Maggie got a top for "jam" as she says-- meaning gym. Very confusing for me at the beginning! "Jam? What jam? Is that a club?" "Yes, a club." Then we walked some more and sat inside KFC to cool off where it was revealed to me that the other great mystery about me is my hair. Every Chinese person I meet who can speak English thinks I have Asian in me somewhere because of my hair! Ha... cool.

After the mall we went to an event for work, a party at the Royal Meridien hotel near all the flashing, shiny lights of Nanjing Lu. The party was certainly interesting and we were mightily underdressed and overly sweaty by then. Story of my life. It was on the 65th floor, so the view was beautiful. It was an event for the young and fabulous, total jetsetting crowd. When we got there, the promoter, whose English was a little iffy, said, "The theme tonight is James Bond. The party is for men; we offer them free drinks, cigars and women." What? Free women? Because of the "James Bond" theme, there were leggy French chicks playing "Bond Girls" in tight black dresses all over the place. Maggie said, "It's all foreigners!" and it was... the only Chinese were the magazine/promotions people!

We met two guys from the UK, one who trades securities in the Chinese market and a headhunter who looked like a young Michael J. Fox with nice eyes. He was 33 and went to Cambridge U., lived in Hong Kong for 6 years and Shanghai for 5. I was a bit taken aback by his profession and thought he might be lying just to have fun but upon detailed questioning (How do you get recruited for something like that? was one), he didn't hesitate at all with his in-depth answers so I think he really was a murderer. Or at least, a former murderer. He sold his company in January so perhaps not anymore. On the way out, there were some Middle Eastern men coming in and they STARED at me for a good long time, it was very creepy. Even Maggie said, "Why are they looking at you so much?" I took a taxi home and didn't get cheated on the fare-- lucky! 30RMB.

Oh, so fabulous


James Bond + girls


Maggie and me at the party


Shanghai from above


On Sunday, I went to Shiji Park but didn't go inside because it was 10RMB entrance fee! Lame. I came home and sat on the porch for 5 hours, from 6 to 11. Didn't realize it was so long but oh well. Though I think Michelle was wondering what the hell I was doing out there. She was in the room fiendishly reading Harry Potter. It was storming by 8 so my clothes were blowing crazily in the wind.

Shiji Park


Storm rolling in at 6:50pm


Last week, there was heat lightning.

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Now, some other odds and ends that I've been meaning to mention...

There are fewer beggars here than NYC, Detroit or Ann Arbor. While the homeless in the States tend to be people with either mental problems or severe substance abusers (crackheads of Detroit), there are pretty much only 4 types of beggars here: children, the disabled, the elderly and blind musicians. It makes it much harder to ignore them, as there's no mental exercise to make you feel like they put themselves into that position. Last week on the subway, a very dirty/smelly boy of about 12 walked on his knees from person to person then bowed down in front of them at least 5 times before moving on to the next. I also saw a kid with a severely burned head begging. It's far more personal as they go directly from person to person. The elderly beggars tend to stay on the steps of the subway entrances and shake the change cups to attract your attention while the musicians either stay in one spot all day or are led around by a woman to the doors of shops where they might get some money. Enlightening article on child beggars in China.

Speaking of the subway, at the newer stations there are two tiers of doors that must be opened/shut before the cars move. There are the doors on the subway cars themselves, and doors on the platform. The platform doors are supposedly to prevent suicide/homicide, which I am in huge favor of as my newest revived fear is being pushed into the tracks. However, last week the news filtered down that a man got caught between the two doors, the clearance official didn't notice and he was dragged to his death underneath the car as it began to move. Now I'm a bit torn as to the existence of the double doors. At any rate, duly noted: don't smash onto the train! It's not worth it!!

Call me on the phone and talk to tomorrow (12 hours later here). Dial: 00 86 21 5089 4056. Buy a phone card. Please!