Mandarin Tin Tin

Nov. 18 – Shanghai

 You are what you read, and I owe at least part of my taste for travel to an author named Hergé. As a kid, I pored over his comic books chronicling the adventures of Tintin, his dog Milou (Snowy in English) and Captain Haddock. In crisp, colourful vignettes, I saw the world with them. Soviet Russia in the 1920s, Shangai’s heyday in the 1930s, the snows of Tibet, the North African Desert. I paddled the Amazon with Tintin, hiked the Inca trail, fended off giant snakes in the Congo, fought pirates in the Red Sea, escaped a volcanic eruption in the Indonesian islands, witnessed a Central American coup d’état. I read the stories over and over, but they never grew old – and Tintin never aged – even as I did.

So as the rain started to dampen Shanghai’s concrete this afternoon, I headed to the Peace Theatre adjacent to People’s Square to see what Steven Spielberg would do with my boyhood hero in IMAX 3D. Tintin: The Secret of the Unicorn (with Mandarin subtitles) was good fun, but for me nothing will replace the original series. Other literary influences would come later: the distant places and people in the yellow-covered National Geographic, the nautical worlds of Tim Severin and Patrick O’Brian, the humour of Bill Bryson and Tim Moore, the misanthropy of Paul Theroux. But my wanderlust started with comic books.

The movie was impromptu, but I set out this morning with two goals, both triggered by reader responses. After letting five morning commuter-packed subways pass, I took the Metro to the Oriental Sport Centre, a complex including the Natatorium which hosted the 2011 World Swimming Championships. I had no idea whether the venue was open to visitors or what its hours were, but I packed my swim trunks, googles, cap and towel just in case. My hopes of success were not high (remember that even if I can find info online, it’s usually in Chinese), so I wasn’t overly disappointed when I discovered that the pool’s public grand opening on the day I leave Shanghai. Still, the outing, on the lands of the 2010 World Exhibition, proved interesting in a dystopian sort of way. The broad grounds, manicured, with newly-paved roads and granite sidewalks, were basically deserted. The massive, white natatorium looks like the Chinese cousin of the Richmond Olympic Oval. The complex includes an equally new, imposing main indoor stadium, a diving stadium, and the high rise “mansion” for sports administrators. Signage for upcoming short track speed skating and figure skating world cups show that these buildings are active, and I suppose someday Shanghai will host the Olympic Games. But all the same, I felt a disconnect between the lavish scope of the complex and the lack of activity. I thought “This is China! Aren’t there are supposed to be people everywhere?”

My second project took me back to the close confines of a market in the district of Laoximen near downtown in search of a USB cable for my camera. I had forgotten to bring my cable and now that I was in China, for Pete’s sake, I was going to get one. I found a stall selling electronic goods, showed them my little Panasonic Lumix, said “USB”, and waited to see what would happen. In short order, the right sort of cable was produced, inserted in the camera port, and tested on a laptop. It worked! The vendor typed “30” into his calculator, signifying 30 Yuan (about $4). I countered with “20”. The vendor shook his head, and I walked away with a benchmark. Next booth, same procedure. Vendor types “35”. I counter with “25”, and we settle on “30”. Granted it’s not much of a victory, but at least I engaged and didn’t feel ripped off. And of course, now my pictures are saved in two locations finally (whew!)


Shanghai Shopping Mall

Nov. 17 – Shanghai

 The Raffles City mall, just off People’s Square downtown, just happened to be in my path as I stepped out of the Metro. I hate the lobotomized sameness of shopping malls. But when you’re barely 36 hours into China, you’ll see something new no matter where you go. So I went in.

 The place had a gloss that made it exciting. And when I saw the chrome stork figures in the fountain, and the candy-red handrails on the escalators, I really started to pay attention. Here’s where the power of the fabled billion-consumer market can really be felt. Every single shop offered an astounding variety for each item. Want a pair of New Balance trail shoes with Vibram soles? Pick your colour; not just white or black. But pink, red, brown, yellow with green, magenta with orange, you name it. The Shanghainese are famously fashionable. Not just in their dress, but hair also. I guess when everyone is born with straight black hair, the drive towards the perm, the bouffant, and various dyes can be powerful. There’s a wig, or a salon appointment waiting for you at Raffles. And if you want to work on the rest of your body, there’s a large health club on its top floor, complete with lap pool.

 It’s amazing what you can do with a food court if you really try. Not for them the grimy, greasy, tray-top fare that counts as edible in North America. Shanghai is known for its sweets, and the smell tantalized me as I passed the clean, shiny stalls. I had the best mall food experience of my life, probably. Sizzling Korean beef with kimchi and rice. Not to be outdone, the washroom provided the most civilized squatting experience I’ve ever had.

 I walked a big distance in today’s soupy humidity. Shanghai’s downtown, on a Thursday afternoon, was optimally frenetic – lively without being oppressive. The  Yuyuan shopping district is clearly geared at tourists, but somehow avoided the tacky, tawdry feel such places usually have. Shanghai’s broad riverfront promenade, the Bund, is the domain of tour groups, families, couples. I rested my feet, looking at the sand barges churning the Huangpu river, and at the smog-veiled skyscrapers beyond.