Still Googling

March 2nd, 2010

A friend in the US recently asked whether I “can still get Google.”

Oh mercy, I can’t imagine life without Google. Because of the Great Firewall, I can’t get Facebook, I can’t see anything on YouTube, I can’t read any blogs on blogspot.com and, in the past, I have been unable to access Wikipedia at all.  Time was when we could get to all of these by going to a proxy server website and then visit the blocked sites; there was even a site that emailed the “new” proxy servers that popped up in the cat-and-mouse game with the powers that be; all you had to do when your favorite proxy server was shut down was move on to another. Those were the good ol’ days, though, as things have gotten much tighter. Today there are a couple of proxy servers that you can sign up for if you pay about $50 (US) a year or so, but I won’t mention names lest I speed up their shutdown, too.

But I can still Google. In fact, that’s what I do when I am out of the house and can’t find whatever destination I’m looking for. There is no giant phonebook, no yellow pages. When I am lost (as I invariably am, always sure that the shop or restaurant is “right around here”), I  Google my target on my iPhone and find the address. If I go to google.com, I am frequently, but not always, automatically re-directed to google.cn.

As for the big ruckus with Google recently…. a few thoughts. First is that when it envisioned China as a huge market that it didn’t want to pass on, Google originally had no problem with whiting out certain search results in China. Type in something politically sensitive, and it wasn’t merely that you couldn’t access certain sites that were shown as search results — you didn’t see that they existed at all.  So why did Google get all upset about freedom of information in the last few months?

Maybe because it wasn’t such a business success after all? More than one person here has pointed out that most Chinese use baidu.com to search the web, not Google. (In fact, western reporters measuring Chinese attention to President Obama’s visit last fall by counting hits on Google were barking up the wrong tree. They should have been watching baidu.com. (See the comment at http://community.nytimes.com/comments/www.nytimes.com/2010/01/20/opinion/20friedman.html.)) And I’m informed that there is a Chinese social networking site roughly comparable to Facebook. Some people here say that China is entitled to protect these Chinese sites until they are strong enough to compete with Google and Facebook; others think  that blocking these sites is the same kind of economic trade barrier as any other and should be called out as such.

But after all the brouhaha, here’s what I saw in the subway last week:

Google1Prominent ads, which I haven’t seen before. It doesn’t look like Google is going anywhere if they are launching an ad campaign.

Today when I type in google.com, it doesn’t redirect me. And when I type in a sensitive topic, I can see that there are entries on Wikipedia and YouTube, among others. Only time will tell if this will hold true.

But try clicking on them, and here’s what I get:Google2.jpgInstantly. And if I type in the same request on google.cn, I get pretty much the same results.

Strictly from the perspective of my personal needs, I hope that Google does stick around. Otherwise, I’ll never find where I’m going, or I’ll have to go back to lugging the huge files of  business cards that I carried in my early days in Shanghai. Or I will have to seriously speed up my study of Chinese characters!

Not Again!

February 26th, 2010

There was a hubbub at the entrance to our lane this week.notagain1Apparently you could go up to a desk and talk to someone about how Better City, Better Life (for Expo — see the Haibo?) is coming to you.notagain2In our house, we already knew. The 6:45 am whomp, whomp, whomp of the sledgehammers has been going on steady for several days now.

from our front gate

from our front gate

And it would have been hard to miss the crash when the truck dumped its load of bricks.notagain4

As anybody who’s been reading this blog for more than a year knows, at our last lane house, we lived through months of picking our way through stinky trenches while the sewers were replaced. (See The Big Dig and other entries circa November 2008.) What are the odds that we would have the same experience at our new house?

As it turns out, pretty high. This is going on in lanes all over Shanghai now at a frantic pace, readying for Expo’s opening on May 1. Why? As somebody told me when I asked what the desks and signs were all about, “They want to impress the foreigners who are coming to Expo.”

The jackhammers are coming soon, as I’m told they’re going to re-pave the whole lane once they finish with the sewers. Could it be worse?

Yeah, that could be our car parked at the end of the lane.  (The owner must have missed the meeting.)notagain5

Prosperity Arrives (we hope!)

February 23rd, 2010

Our instincts were right. Giving a proper welcome to the god of money/fortune/prosperity turned out to be huge in Shanghai, as momentous  a bang as greeting the new year itself.  I do wonder how overwhelming bursts of firecrackers can be counted on both to drive away evil spirits and welcome the desirable god, but so far no Chinese friends have explained why the evil ones aren’t welcomed and prosperity driven away….

On the afternoon of Day Five of the New Year,  the day prosperity arrives, we headed to the Jade Buddha Temple. We expected to find a hubbub, but not the line we encountered to buy tickets to get in. It moved quickly. Inside, the courtyard was crowded.  prosper1The incense vendors were doing a brisk business.prosper2Some people lit the long sticks,prosper3prosper4while others burned pieces of paper with writing on them (prayers?).prosper5Elsewhere, some people were attempting to boost their good luck by trying to get coins to stick to the surface of various carvings and other adornments,prosper6and were, of course, offering prayers to the divinities.prosper7prosper8I sometimes hear that, in modern China, nobody believes in “those old superstitions” any more, but you could have fooled me. Anyhow, when it comes to prosperity, why take chances?

As we walked away, I noticed that my purse and our jackets were lightly covered with fine cinders, sprinkled by the light breeze. Oddly appropriate since, where I come from, it was Ash Wednesday.

Roar

February 17th, 2010

Late Friday afternoon, Small New Year’s Eve (as opposed to Big New Year’s Eve, Saturday night), I went down to the old part of town, the Yu Garden area near the Temple of the City God, to check out the decorations and see what was happening.

As evening descended, tigers emerged in the shadows, but not  many people. Maybe because it was so cold here.

Tiger1Tiger2Tiger3Firecrackers went off randomly, as if they were practicing, just getting warmed up. Too cold, I ate some dumplings and went home.

Saturday morning, my husband and I went out shopping for dinner. Almost everything was closed, or closing fast. The 24-7 foot massage place in the lane — padlocked. A few shops selling pajamas and blankets were still going, but even over in the wet market where we go for vegetables, stalls were covered over in rough blankets. The fruit vendor was open, but annoyed us by trying to charge double the usual price for oranges, so we took a taxi elsewhere where our favorite fruit lady was — surprise! when were we going to catch on? — shut up tight. Likewise, two bakeries. I decided to bake bread myself.

We paused to walk through our old lane and admired the chalk artistry of the man who makes announcements on the local blackboard. tiger4tiger5

For all my countless hours memorizing Chinese characters, all I could make out was something about safety in the neighborhood.

As we worked our way home, street sweepers were out gathering up the leaves that we noticed we could hear rustling for the first time — it was that quiet.

Late in the afternoon, the sporadic firecrackers picked up their pace as the long slow crescendo began. During dinner, we could see colorful bursts through our skylight. Occasional rat-a-tat-tats in the lane nearly made my drop my food. Here and there, car alarms began to go off, collaborating with the artillery. When the city seemed to be spontaneously combusting, we went up to our top floor bedroom, to watch the fireworks from all sides of the house. The din was so continuous that it sounded like a downpour of rain, with thunder and fire bursting forth. For a while, we kept the balcony door open and shook our heads in amazement, until it got too cold and we closed it again.

At 11:45, hard to believe, there was an uptick in the intensity. Rockets blasted, zingers sailed through the air; dazzling fireworks bloomed from every direction; parked cars screeched; and it all echoed and rumbled back off the city’s tall buildings. already lit with zany stripes and glitter. There was nothing to do but stop trying to talk and just watch and listen.  For hours. It was hardly calming when we simply fell asleep, dazzled. All the evil spirits that lurk in the world must surely have been banished.

By daybreak, it was quiet again. The only evidence of the previous night’s roar were the red paper remains that lay in the lane, dissolving in the rain that had returned.

The noise has been picking up again every night, but so far, it hasn’t been anything like Saturday night. Tonight the money god will make his appearance, so we’ll see. tiger6

As Wang ayi says, at our age, it’s more important to wish for good health than for money.

Nonetheless, gong xi fa cai! And best wishes for good health in the Year of the Tiger!

********************

Whomp! Bam! Ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack! Incoming! I knocked my camera on the floor! Whomp! Bam! pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop! Gosh, that must be just 10 feet away! Whomp! Bam! It’s exploding in sheets! Ok, I’ve got a pretty good idea now how we’re going to welcome the money god…

Art Clokey, In Memoriam

February 1st, 2010

I heard the news last week that the creator of Gumby passed away at the age of 88. So it seems fitting that, even before he died and perhaps unbeknownst to him, he is being memorialized on a grand scale here in Shanghai.

Several years ago, we barely paid attention when Shanghai unveiled the new mascot for the then-distant World Expo 2010. Looks like Gumby, my sons yawned. But Haibo, as the blue near-knockoff creature is known here, has since become ubiquitous.  Gumbys greet you at the airport,gumby1 adorn the Expo ads pasted everywhere promising Better City, Better Life, gumby3cuddle up as soft toys and dangle on the ends of keychains, gumby2and are carved into topiaries at traffic intersections.gumby6

My favorite rendition is in a park along a major boulevard in Gubei. How about this  multi-cultural festival of  Gumbys frolicking under the already-bizarre (permanent) flowerpot sculpture!gumby4

And I guess that would be the American Gumby/Haibo under the ten-gallon hat!gumby5

Art Clokey must be smiling.

Old and New

January 21st, 2010

For years now (more than five), I have traveled around Shanghai in a fog when it comes to the written language. Although I’ve struggled constantly to add new words to my spoken Mandarin, I have left reading and writing strictly alone. The blizzard of characters, each as different and imponderable as a snowflake as far as I was concerned, floated by me — on commercial signs, traffic directions, newsstands, wherever.

But since I’ve taken up the study of hanzi, characters, this fall, life has become one big flashcard. Not that I can actually comprehend many phrases, let alone whole sentences, but the few hundred characters I’ve supposedly mastered jump out at me from billboards everywhere, constantly sending me scurrying to my dictionary in on-the-tip-of-recalling frustration.

One of the new words I learned to write this week is 老, the character  lao, meaning “old.” After scratching its six strokes  50 times into my little copybook, I’m quite certain I’ve conquered it, at least for the moment. I’m even sure that the strokes are formed properly and in the right order.

Imagine my delight yesterday when I spotted a substantial sign with three consecutive characters that I recognized, including the word I’d just learned: 老 西 门, lao xi men, old west gate. (Ok, my pleasures are admittedly simple….)

But what’s this! Check out the English translation below! oldnew

If they get something this simple so wrong, what else have I been misunderstanding as I go through life here?

I guess I better get back to work on the remaining several thousand I need to learn and retain before I’ll be able to read a newspaper.

Watching Over Fuxing Park

January 18th, 2010

When I revived yesterday from my gastronomic distress, my husband and I went out for a stroll in the neighborhood, landing in one of my very favorite spots in Shanghai, Fuxing Park.

Public parks in China wake you up.  I remember the first time I found myself in a park here after dark. It was full of people talking and I realized with a start that there was no reason to be afraid! And if anybody was drunk, s/he kept it under wraps.

Fuxing Park is everything you could hope for in a park. A place to meet up with your friends and have a chat in the sunshine, or make headway on the sweater you’re knitting.

April 2006

April 2006

To bring your kids to the amusement park rides or to invite your husband for lunch al fresco.

April 2007

April 2007

To tune in to an impromptu concert, or waltz with your wife on the sidewalk.

May 2007

May 2007

To participate in a card game, or, better yet, hold onto your kuai and stick to advising the players.

April 2006

April 2006

To stretch your body in a tai chi move, in a morning group

April 2006

April 2006

or (appearing rather ominous to western eyes) behind the bushes alone. Even, on occasion, to have your photograph made in a herd of  synthetic cows.

April 2006

April 2006

Fuxing7In short, to relax just about any way that a body can think of.

You don’t see many westerners in Fuxing Park. The most important ones are there every day,  overseeing the scene with an air of avuncular benevolence. Fuxing8Marx and Engels. A penny for your thoughts now, I’d like to say. What do you have to say about how it all turned out? At least the people’s parks are pretty nice.

Yesterday somebody was obviously feeling at least a bit wistful. Take a close look at the base of the sculpture.

January 2010

January 2010

Those are bouquets of flowers.

Winter Provisions

January 17th, 2010

I love watching Shanghai get ready to celebrate the new year.  I’ve written about this before, but one of the preparations that grab my attention is the habit of hanging out marinated meat and fish to dry on the cold days we’ve been having lately.  I wander the streets stalking treasure.

Even in the midst of the most modern areas of Shanghai, the old traditions literally hang on. Here’s what caught my eye last week as I tooled along in front of smart clothing stores:provisions1

In the wet market a few blocks down the street, I spotted a bonanza in the rafters, available for purchase:provisions2

“Let that be a lesson to you!” my friend chuckled when we came across this dangling pair elsewhere in town:provisions3

At our house, we’re do-it-yourself-ers. Wang ayi has pork aging in the garden again this year:provisions4Son Christopher and I sampled it on Friday, his last day in Shanghai before an early-Saturday flight to return to the States for college. Chewy and full of sharp flavor. Reminds me of Kentucky ham, he observed, recalling the specialty my husband used to have shipped from his hometown.

Sorry to say, Christopher and I spent Friday night hugging the porcelain goddess, retching our guts out. He could barely muster to get on the plane in the morning. Sure, the problem could have been with any of a number of treats we had loaded up on in the last couple of days, but I’m nervous.

Undaunted, my husband insists he’s going to give it a few more days and then sample the delicacy himself. Sometimes, I guess, he really misses Kentucky.

You gotta buy a lottery ticket….

January 14th, 2010

I’m not mentioning any names, but one of my family members got out of a taxi last night on our street and left behind his backpack, with his laptop inside. Zaogao! Disaster!

Did he have the cab’s receipt? (One visiting friend last year left the tennis racquet she had bought at the fake market in a taxi, handed the taxi receipt to the hotel concierge, and had the lost racquet back in a couple of hours.) No, the receipt machine in last night’s taxi was broken.

What company was the taxi? Dunno, but red in color. It turns out that there are over 100 companies in Shanghai with red — independent — cars.

There’s nothing you can do, my family member said.

But I can’t stand to leave something like this alone. This morning, I got help in drafting a sign offering a reward and went outside the lane to the place where the unlucky person had gotten out of the car. A small crowd of construction workers and a security guard gathered, curious as to what I was taping on the wall, just in case a super-conscientious driver returned to the scene. Oh, lost your computer, they read and crooned sympathetically. I can’t imagine that any of them has ever come near a computer.

I asked Driver Ou Yang to take me to the police station. He said that would be useless, but immediately swung into action with good ideas. After all, he is a driver. “You’ve got to get it onto this station before lunch, he said, turning the radio dial. That’s where they announce all the lost stuff, and the drivers will be listening while they eat. This afternoon, they won’t be paying any attention. But after he called and learned that it costs 600 RMB to run an ad 4 times, he changed his mind.

I had Ou Yang drive me to the police station anyway. There a polite officer with a cigarette dripping ash asked me the expected questions. What company, what color car, where did he get in, where did he get out. What are you going to do? He shook his head.

Back in the car, Ou Yang shook his head, too. Useless, he snorted with respect to the police. He insisted that we place an ad with the Xinmin Evening News, which I gather is a sort of taxicab newspaper, widely read. The ad will run tomorrow.

Then he suggested that I go onto the internet and place an ad there for other people to read. Not a bad idea from someone who admits he’s never touched a computer, but where on the internet? One Chinese friend said to read the offerings on Chinese eBay to see whether your computer turns up there.

Ou Yang  gets frustrated when we’re so inept, doing such obviously idiotic things as taking taxis, especially the red ones. For two days, you’ve lost gloves (it’s true — I’m down 1 1/2 pairs since Monday) and now this, he muttered as I walked away.

But I haven’t given up yet. Here in China, we’ve had waiters chase us down the street to return items we’ve left in restaurants, hotel maids bring items to the lobby. If a Shanghainese cabbie can find the owner of a lost computer, I think  he would try to return it. Anyone taking a bet on whether we hit the jackpot?

On the 17th day of Christmas

January 12th, 2010

One great thing about Shanghai is that there is no January post-Christmas letdown. Every year since I arrived in 2004, noticeably more Christmas decorations are going up in December. And, as I found last Sunday when I braved the grim, gray weather to do a little shopping, they are still up.

Like the gold tree on Nanjing Lu in front of Plaza 66.postXmas1

Out at the pearl market in Hongqiao, a jolly little Santa is still hanging out under a big tree, although the poinsettias aren’t trying hard any more.postXmas2

At Marks & Spencer, the plum pudding hasn’t even been discounted.

postXmas3

What’s the thinking? I dunno. Certainly it’s not “out with the old; in with the new.” I suspect it has to do with the fact that the lunar new year lies just around the corner. Hyper-optimistically (and confusingly), that holiday is called “spring festival” as well as “new year” here, although it falls smack dab during winter. Why feel blue when we can just keep on making merry until spring arrives?