Despite thickening fog in the China Sea and the HuangPu River we covered the 65 mile journey upriver to Shanghai, largest city in the People's Republic of China. Just after the pilot had boarded our ship the river was closed to further shipping...zero visibility.
I woke up to the view of a mist shrouded Oriental Pearl Tower soaring 1500 feet into the sky on the Pudong shore of Shanghai. Our ship was docked at the modern city centre Cruise Terminal, practically adjacent to the famous Bund, the kernel and center of Old Shanghai. Colonial decadence left it's mark there with a line up of dozens of grand Art Deco buildings, such as the palatial Peace Hotel (no Chinese allowed in olden times), Park Hotel, Grand Theatre and many more. They were restored to former grandeur for the 2010 Expo, some are not yet in use and are nothing but facade, but all proudly fly lots of Chinese Flags. Most of these buildings used to be 'off limits' for Chinese before the Cultural revolution, as they belonged to foreign 'concessions'. Then and now, a location for multi million dollar deals, given the numerous banks located on The Bund.
I skip Shanghai's turbulent history, Opium wars, fame as 'sin city' run by gangsters, home to casinos and brothels, Post WWII restauration etc etc.
I took the ship's shuttlebus, dressed in several layers and armed with my Argentinian $3 umbrella, and reached town at the Julong Handicraft and Silk Institute. Profuse welcoming nods by line up of attendants at the entrance, who with military precision and inescabable efficiency ushered us into the building, totally prepared for a spending spree by rich Americans. I marched through all the wonderful displays, saving them for a later time maybe, and escaped following convoluted signage through the very entrance door again - ah, freedom.
And rain!
Undeterred I opened my wreck of an umbrella and headed for Nanjing Road, the hub of activity and centre of Shanghai's business and shopping district, not to shop, but to orient myself in a maze of wide streets lined with high rises and passing through greenspaces, without the benefit of a decent map. Streets are mostly marked in Chinese Characters, as is everything else. A few blocks later, past the large People's Square, location of the magnificient Shanghai Museum and the grand edifice of the The Municipal People's Government of Shanghai, I reached Nanjing Road Commercial Street. By now it was pretty stormy and the rain came down sideways, my umbrella showed it's age by inverting itself at every gust, and losing a few bits and pieces at every blast.
But, I prevailed. Unlike Singapore and Hong Kong, where arcades protect strollers from the elements, here all buildings are starkly straight up. Unless one enters one of the oversize department stores, one gets wet, and cold. Thousands of people on the move on the eve of a three day Chinese Holiday, where relatives return to their ancestors, living or dead, to reunite with them. Traffic, apparently well controlled for cars and busses with lights and pedestrian crossings, was heavy of course. Most consisted of mopeds, electric bikes, regular bikes...which all ignored traffic lights and zipped through any bunch of pedestrians crossing one of the wide streets on 'green'. Pedestrians by the thousand, all wielding umbrellas, fill every square inch of sidewalk. Dress is everything from funky last fashion to Chinese padded jackets and pants, as well as 'split padded pants' for male toddlers, leaving their little bums and private parts open to the fresh air (probably easier to accommodate them when nature calls).
A couple of youngish girls greeted me, and started to speak English - they wanted to practice what they had learned. (Most older people do not speak English, nor did many have the benefit of any schooling during earlier years of the revolution).
We chatted about my age (always of major interest to Asian people), their holidays, their home town, when they asked whether I would like to see a tea ceremony with them, something very unusual, they said. As I was pretty wet by then, I agreed, and we dodged our way through the crowds down Nanjing Road, into a side street, into one of the untranslatably marked passages, upstairs to a second floor doorway and were welcomed into a little room. I had thought to be watching something, but no, I was going to participate.
Wooden carved table, porcelain and glass tea paraphernalia, jars of tea, low carved and laquered stools, painting of a large Chinese Empress on the wall, and a lady attendant who only spoke Chinese. I sat down between Linda and Lucy (the english version of the girl's names) and the show began.
First explanations, then 'the menu' with prices in Yuans, with English translation. My eyes popped - 49 yuans per tea, per person, and an additional 30 yuans per person for the 'rental' of the room. Well, to save face, I was stuck, assuming that each one of us would take care of our own tea consumption.
Everything goes in threes, so we would taste six teas. But first the neccessary ceremony. Minute teapot, some loose fresh tea, boiling water...first tea brew was poured over a laquered frog deity - three times - for luck and prosperity. We each had to touch the coin in the frog's mouth and rub his jewelled back. I am going to be rich!!!
Then the tiny drinking bowls were first washed with tea (it was poured over and into them and then emptied onto a laquered tray) and then filled in a quick sweep, and placed in front of us, all of it happening whilst held with curved forceps - no hands . Hold them with three fingers, ring and little finger held out 'ladylike', not like men who curl their fingers. Inhale the fragrant steam three times, nod at every one three times, and empty the cup in three sips. Some teas were served in glass, some in painted porcellan where the paint would change colour when heated.
Six teas, who allegedly cure everything from sleeplessness, osteoporosis, wrinkles, indigestion, frigidity, barrenness, headache, bad knees and loss of memory amongst other ailments. Tea with jasmine, hand rolled tea containing flowers, tea with ginseng, tea preboiled and dried, tea aged for 20 years - all different, all aromatic.
I received a running translation of all the tea lady had to say curtesy of my young friends.
Would I like to buy some tea? No, I cannot take it back into Canada, I lied.
The girls bought a small tin canister each.
Time for the bill...
About 1,100 yuans for the tasting, and about 400 Yuans for the tea. The girls suggested, that they would pay for the (their) tea, and I should pay for the entire ceremony. Well with a couple of hundred Yuans in my pocket, I was getting a bit panicky. I could not wiggle out of paying - again a matter of 'face'. At 6.8 Yuans to the US dollar, this was no cheap indulgence.
No problem, ATM downstairs, I was assured. I take my bag, jacket and limp umbrella, troop behind our hostess to the ATM, which has instructions in Chinese.
Anyway, I got the cash and kept up good appearances and paid the most expensive tea I have ever tasted in my entire life...and all this tea is giving me more longlevity to boot
But, gracious as can be, the two girls made me a gift of one of the little precious teapots and cups, after making sure I would notice the price (all very important in Chinese culture), inviteded me to their homes (their mothers would love to have me, and they could learn lots of English, they promised). They were going to help me find my way around the Metro and train....but I politely declined (I could not afford any further help from them).
Back into the rain, which really came down in freezing streams.
By now Nanjing had turned into a pedestrian mall, no taxis. Anyway, as I was wet to the waist, with my pants clinging to me and dripping water into my shoes, the umbrella turning tricks, I just kept on walking. Down Nanjing, along the Bund (deserted) over Waibaidu Bridge (in Colonial times also off limits for Chinese - they had a separate bridge build for them), got lost in a few side streets, got even wetter, and finally made it back to the ship.
Chinese burocracy out in full force. Passport AND stamped copy thereof required upon re-entry of ship.
One lady in front of the line up got out her documents, the officials frowned, the big bossed was marshalled over, more frowning and discussion in Chinese, the lady is taken to the back of the wind blown inspection tent (everybody else outside lined up in the rain and the queue getting ever longer by the minute), then an English speaking staff from Amsterdam was called to the scene, more inspection....well the lady had a 'wrong' version of the official stamp on her passport copy, ergo she had come to the wrong ship. |Clearance stamps seem to be ship specific...
A big BLUE ship - plain to see even for non-officials. She was travelling on a huge WHITE Princess Line ship, docked way down river somewhere else. Definitely an advanced case of colour blindness and being location challenged. In addition Amsterdam shuttle bus passengers run around with Holland America regalia, all shuttle buses show HUGE signs of their respective ships up front and on the sides, they share the same drop off point....duh?
Obligatory panic, then she was packed off with instructions of how to make it back to her cruise before scheduled departure.
Day two arrived with sunshine. I took a taxi (18 Yuen) to Old Shanghai, YuYuan. A concentration of traditional Chinese architecture, with stacked tiled roofs, ornate decorations, lots of red lanterns, narrow alleys, temples, Chinese Gardens, shops galore, dumpling and noodle houses, tea houses, Chinese peek shows, Chinese Opera houses, and KFC;s, Starbucks and McDonalds as well.
The temples were magnificient, the gardens stunning, the shops crowded to overflowing absolute fun. And delightfully quiet - at least in the gardens amongst pagodas, cherry trees and magnolias in bloom, and Koi flashing colourfully in the mirror ponds.
Back at The Bund, a last Good Bye to Shanghai. Today, thousands of Chinese promenaded along the beautiful wide esplanade, only re-opened since a week in preparation for Expo 2010. They came to see and photograph the newest improvement to their rapidly growing and expanding city, have a picnic, people watch, and show off their children - only one per couple allowed. Police and guards in peaked caps and small golf cart affairs patrolled the couple of miles of The Bund...everybody very well behaved. The whole scene disciplined and somewhat sterile, but beautiful to look at. A giant statue of Mao watches over all, and manicured flower beds and hundreds of freshly planted trees adorn the expansive parklike Bund, with a backdrop of impressive buildings, reminiscent of Geneva Lakefront - without the Geneva cosmopolitan aura of vibrancy, or any hint of a cafe, restaurant, pub or bar. On the opposite shore, the Pearl Tower gleamed, and the two huge orbs of the world flanking one of the many magnificient buildings shone blue and golden in the sunlight. Indeed a grand vista.
We sailed away at sunset, after performing a tight 180 turn in the river, almost touching opposite banks. The skyline disappeared when we passed under the gossamer like Yangpu Bridge, but the shores were lit by factory buildings, shipyards, docks, residential areas for dozens of miles, late into the night.
Now - to Bejing, and another personal passport inspection et al by the same Chinese authorities, who have seen them all before - several times. But the prospect of the Great Chinese Wall and other wonders make it all worth while.
