The quickest way to tell if you’re getting to be an old man is to grow a beard. The telltale strands of haggard gray will immediately inform you of your approaching middle-aged-ness (the other annoying part being the massive face-dandruff…it’s perpetually snowing in my lap.). Yet if one were never to allow oneself the time to grow a good old-fashioned Fu Manchu, there would be no reason to suspect that the gray would ever show. Such is the single-mindedness of Shanghai.
The first thing you learn about the old British colony is that it’s not, in fact, very Chinese. The world’s biggest city, which has boasted the world’s biggest port (the inlet for which wending through the inland is queued to the milewide banks with cargo ships waiting their turn at customs) for five years, is amazingly un-China, at least in terms of people’s initial expectations, which are likely to be all misty mountain tigers, temples and Jasmine teas. Increasingly, Shanghai is defining the new China in terms of one thing: consumption. The pedestrian-only Nanjing road outdoor complex east of People’s Square is a mind-blowing introduction for the stereotype-happy tourist to see and to mingle oneself into the heart of the activity that is more and more characterizing the Chinese: shopping.
Welcome to China, where the stamp you see on everything, Made in China, means something. To be perfectly blunt: in the heart of Chinese manufacturing headquarters, goods are cheap, plentiful and surprisingly well made (they ship the crap abroad for Americans to go into debt at Walmart). Cashflow too, is not a problem for the ancient fishing village of Hu Du, which once depended on the snaky Huangpo river for its commerce and now determines its own course, largely using the wrecking ball and a million plus peasants alienated and living on the outskirts of the city who, while toiling daily to improve the Pudong skyline and erect the architectural amazements for Expo 2010, are digging their own wider divide between their status as the builders of what the world views as the newly upwardly mobile city on the sea and those reaping the benefits of living in the most powerful economic juggernaut today–for which China is already well known.
It is still China of course: people are out everywhere from the dawn till dark, working, cooking, hawking their wares- real or not- on the street, trying to make a buck, all in the very direct manner of oriental tradition. Ironically, it’s the French Concession that is likely the last vestige of the most typical “Chinese” kind of lifestyle in Shanghai. The large central area east of People’s park with it’s gentrified cafes, boutiques and museums still maintains-often incongruously adjacent to the Japo-Europa-New Yorkian style of mansion architecture- many very large pockets of shikumen, the two to three-story townhouses reminiscent of Parisian arrondissements, accessed via central alleyway and boasting the bustling lives of millions of lower-middle class Chinese still using the trademark clotheslines hanging everywhere the eye can see. It’s reminiscent of the industrial revolutions in Victorian-era Britain, post-WWII U.S., and Japan in the 70s and 80s in that there is enough cash to spread around and cheap labor to capitalize upon that anything imaginable can be done, including constructing the cheapest, largest and most technologically advanced metro system, introducing the Maglev train system into daily use, boasting two of the tallest buildings in the world (despite the Shanghai World Financial Center’s unfortunate likeness to a bottle opener), as well as hosting this year’s World Expo. If Shanghai can keep its current stranglehold on China’s still burgeoning manufacturing and shipping industries (likely by lowering taxes), Hong Kong- the only other competition around – will be toast by 2020. And that’s just domestic in-fighting. The rest of us are already screwed.
Shanghai is not necessarily experiencing the same adverse affects of the economic crunch as the rest of the world, by doing much as the musical artist Pink has long suggested and “(Construct)ing the pain away.” By winning the bid on the largely anachronistic World Expo, they’ve guaranteed millions of tourists pouring in to buy the ubiquitous Haibao mascot dolls, stay in the mostly moderately priced hotels and take in the cornucopia of Shanghainese cuisine, from the notably delicious breakfast-esque Xiǎolóngbāo buns, da bing pancakes and You tiao pastries to the more sumptuous hóng shāo style of slow-stewing, the ubiquitous hairy crabs and crispy chicken gobbled down daily in restaurants serving these dishes for a mere ten to twenty to hundreds of RMB.
As long as they continue to be the center of the manufacturing world (like we used to be) and actually make products (rather than depending upon debt), they will be unstoppable. That said, they seem to be set on the same course as we were ages ago, each successive culture racing faster and faster toward the nonexistent finish line of world commercial market domination, only to hand over the baton to the next cheap manufacturing hub which, I am assured by the astute Japanese businessman on the slow boat over from Osaka, will be Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos and should they decide t play ball, Burma. So be it. The cycles are quickening, the beard is growing out of control and our age is showing. Soon there will be no more dye to wash the gray out. Might as well enjoy the ride.