It was January 2005 and I remember walking along Xizang Lu otherwise known – and to me at that time as – Tibet Road. I was staying at the very incorrectly titled 'Majestic Hotel' and was making my way to the office at Times Square on a cold but sunny morning. And as I'm an awesome multi-tasker, I was also managing to eat a street vendor bought breakfast pastry and drinking from a small bottle of what was supposed to be carrot juice but tasted a little too sweet to really be a vegetable. A thought washed over me and that was: I really like living in Shanghai.
I had already been there for about three months so the delightful city and I were in our honeymoon phase. There had always been a longing to journey beyond the country I called home but I had never thought where at the time those wishes crept into my heart. Well, that's where mine live anyway and as a result they tend to be a little short on logic. Maybe logic would have had me end up in London or Singapore. Instead, I left it up to fate to decide. Okay, kind of, I wasn't going to end up in Azerbaijan. although who knows, I could have been big news there.
And so my wish was granted and I found myself getting to know the pearl of the east, the whore of the orient, and the Paris of Asia. It was neither of these things as the time she had earned those descriptions were long gone. But as there were so many traces to that past still visible and so tangibly close, you could believe the stories and even convince yourself she could live up to those names again.
It was another world, although it wasn't a completely new one as a brief holiday had been my introduction but that was very different to actually staying and living. There was a very strong sense of doing something different, perhaps unexpected, maybe stupid or brave. And if it was to cost me a year or two of my life, that seemed a rather decently valued exchange.
Shanghai was vibrant, exciting, but most of all it was new. And that newness wasn't simply my relationship with the city, it was also how the city felt about itself. It was an unknown entity to the outside world, it was more different then, it was more of an adventure.
I was by no means a trailblazer. There were many before me, giving advice on how best to negotiate my new home. How to deal with the strangeness and the sheer upsidedowness of it all. Because if there was another way to do something – even if that way defied all logic – then that's the way it would be done. But there were nowhere near the number of foreigners who arrived later. Or if there were, you never had the sense of it. there was more of a community feel amongst them – regardless of being from Europe, Australia, Malaysia, wherever – as we were all in new and uncharted territory. None had a map by the way, but that was the point.
There were many 'I love being here' moments over the subsequent months and years. Looking over People's Square at the spaceship shaped restaurant sitting on top of the Radisson Hotel building. Wondering through Xiangyang market near closing time, towards my apartment that overlooked this scene of chaotic commerce. Ending up an evening at Park 97 and having the oddest run-ins with both locals and foreigners – who were genuinely curious as to why you were in Shanghai of all places. As a matter of fact, it was the place to meet pretty much every foreigner not living in the exile zone of Pudong east of the river.
But it wasn't all beer and skittles as they like to say. you know, 'they' just could have coined that one in Shanghai long ago as it had just enough of a colonialist twang to it. Anyway, no beer, no skittles, just lots of work. It wasn't so much the hours. Well, they were definitely bad enough but it was the messiness of it all. Things just didn't work the way they were supposed to in a business sense. Adhocracy ruled the day and that entire deal of there's another weird and not so wonderful way around it wasn't so hot when it came to doing business. That's why it was still the domain of the cowboys and the east was definitely the wild west.
But foreign land, foreign rules – so you just found yourself going with it. Kicking and screaming of course but going nonetheless. Of course it was still exciting, just like the way we get excited on a roller coaster as it dips into a steep descent. Fear just adds to the overall thrill. The good, bad and ugly was all part of the fun and any of these elements missing might of just diminished its appeal.
I distinctly remember that following the resignation of my first job (why I was in the country in the first place) my reason for being there changed, and as a result so did my relationship with Shanghai. I was no longer there because I was working for a particular company but rather because I wanted to be. It was as if I was negotiating a new agreement with the city, and it was the first time I knew we weren't done with each other yet.
It was also the same time my visa was to expire. Thankfully those were also the days of the 'don't worry I know someone who knows someone' variety. Cowboy country business practices did have its advantages it seemed. After mailing my passport off to God knows where and who, as that's the way it was done (and incidentally, there are probably a thousand copies of my passport for sale in some remote Chinese city to this day) I received a freshly stamped visa from an out of the way province and stayed on.
Those moments of excitement continued as the months became years but as familiarity is the enemy of the new, they became less frequent. But that too was okay, as becoming used to a place allows you to settle in and gain a greater affection for it beyond the superficial type. Kind of like favourite shoes only really become your favourite after they've been worn in and proved their value to you over time. Not sure if Shanghai has ever been likened to a pair of shoes but there you go – the comfortable shoe of the east.
Life ticked on and eventually the oddness of someone carrying a zillion polystyrene crates on the back of a pushbike or the folk who would slow dance to a mix tape of 80s classics were just part of the everyday. And what an odd everyday that was. Also, to dismiss such things to others whose daily events were perhaps a little less unusual was always done with a note of hidden pride. All this was something to take for granted but less mouth gaping could perhaps mean there's a little less magic in your world.
However the annoyances would stay just as they always had and over time the deeper issues were harder to dismiss with a mere nod of the head. The loud spitting or scream-talking at 6am were just deserving of a snigger or eye roll but it was the disengagement everyone had towards each other that grated. It was a society that was growing up and maturing yet they were not getting the most important thing right. They just couldn't be nice to each other.
Receptionists would barely grunt a response to couriers on business, beggars would target foreigners as they were a softer touch, and on the road, well, it was every man, woman and child for themselves regardless of whether that was a footpath or road you happened to be on. It was this inability to put yourself in someone else's place, this lack of empathy that was most disturbing. And we were all subjected and encouraged to this mindset to a degree as our differences from socio-economic grounds to our beliefs and even where we came from were emphasised. Then throw in a dose of patriotic nationalism from time to time and you don't have the making of a superpower, more like a collection of bickering states.
We went from the oversized cowpoke town to the sophisticated megamegalopolis – the fashion capital, business capital, everything but a fast Internet capital of the east. Strange that even with those ambitions it was still wanting to be the east version of everything rather than just being something in it's own right. That was the other problem. The lack of invention and creativity pretty much gave me a job for life if I wanted one but that lack of creativity was also like restricting an oxygen supply.
You know, apparently this interwebs thinggie all the kids are into is rather nifty, it lets you stay connected to the world without having to set foot into any of it. Wonderful for those who had to do so by proxy but it is just not the same as living in a creative environment where inspiration comes from all sorts of weird and wonderful places triggering all sorts of responses. It was prevalent in all aspects of life and especially true in a professional sense that gloomed over my work days. The best inspiration for advertising isn't necessarily advertising but that literalness is the grease that spins many wheels of that particular industry. Great for advertising award entry formulas, not so successful in relating and inspiring consumers.
But as it grew, China hosted those right of passage events that signalled a move from the developing and into the developed world. That's despite crying rurally poor and justifying a cheap currency and inability to adhere to climate control legislation, while the ruling elite pockets obscene amounts by the way. The was, is, and will be of contradiction is the only definition that will remain in time here. It's a grey area that allows varying interpretation and wiggle room.
The Olympics was a rebooting of sorts in terms of its foreign population. Enough with the ad-hoc shenanigans and lets just see what's hiding under the rugs could have been the official slogan of this spring cleaning like purge, ahem, initiative. Shop fronts started to conform to a uniform look, pirate DVD stores changed how they did business: false walls were constructed, separating the supposedly legitimate Chinese titles from the far from legit foreign ones. When a visiting foreigner walked in, the shop assistants would smuggle you in as if it was a clandestine underground organisation and you were only ever going to surface again in another province.
And in Beijing in particular, it was the point it jumped the shark. Out with the old and in with the new had always been a rather popular anthem and it was definitely exercised more than a few times with the coming event. The old in this case was more than a handful of neighbourhoods that gave that city its personality. There were palaces and temples that provided links to a ceremonial and grand past but the link to a much more human one was severed.
However, it wasn't a 21st century city and was in sad need of updating and infrastructure in order to cater to the needs of a blossoming middle-class. If of course you could call growth in a grey haze of factory spewing and car exhaust blossoming but thats what was happening, and more importantly, desired. It was time to be taken seriously by the outside world. Yes, it wasn't happening to that extent in my city but it was the attitude of progress at all costs, at the removal of what made me think those enjoyable thoughts of belonging a couple of years earlier. Besides, Shanghai's old neighbourhoods were still being erased, it was just over a longer time frame rather than in one fell swoop. with that, my two or three visits a year to the capital ceased being something worthwhile. And eventually ceased all together.
In that time we all had to re-establish our credentials to China. We had to have a legitimate reason to be there and where the daring do of my visa issuing friends were consigned very much to history (although I more than strongly suspect they're still in business, just in another guise or paying off the right person). And so in true Chinese fashion; no ifs, no buts, you had to return to your home country and reapply for a visa in order to return. It was as complex as 'Next, stamp, there you go' but as with may things it was simply a matter of principle and process.
Then it was Shanghai's turn with the Expo and with that an influx of new foreigners. Young ones. But then again isn't everybody the older you get? China became the place to park employment emerging children as the western world suffered for its greed and irresponsibility. It was the greatest expo ever held in any universe, in any dimension by the way. The government had the attendance figures to prove it. You see, that was the only way to judge – via some sort of number or another. Just like a touring DJ only gained credibility when there was a magazine ranking next to their name. After thousands of years of continuous culture, countless inventions and achievements and yet nobody knew what was good until somebody else told them it was.
Shanghai in particular became an easier employment option and many took that option up. It was becoming sophisticated – as any downtown French run bakery would attest to be a mark of civilisation. But as more people flocked, divisions arose. No longer being small enough in numbers to be merely content with being foreign in a big place, people were beginning to define themselves in their subgroups: the overseas born Chinese, the Americans, Singaporeans, left-handed gay men, women who could whistle, Elves from Rivendell, you get the idea.
Sometimes there were stories of tensions. Sometimes abuses from those who were guests in the city yet felt it was their right to do what they wanted. And sometimes there were petty acts of aggression in return, of slashed bike seats or even fights. Fisticuffs at high noon in the wild east. It was kind of like the behaviour of the margins and borderlands; when populations encroach on each others spaces. Perhaps it was the type of characters drawn to the place. Shanghai is a siren, singing songs where anything is possible and if you want you could even re-invent yourself. The go-getters were welcome but they also tend to be an aggressive breed and prone to bouts of idiocy. Of course that's not to say it had a monopoly of cretins but in what was really the size of a small community sometimes it felt as if it had cornered the market.
It takes time to understand that not every place is like the one you had just come from. Thanks to a vastly different history there was a different take on life that a shared interest in Louis Vuttoin, the NBA, or the collected works of Disney didn't necessarily change. Globalisation allowed the love of the same things to develop but it didn't necessarily mean those things were loved for the same reason. It was all in the details. This was just not being understood by a larger number of people, as a safety in numbers of your type of thinkers doesn't force you to seriously consider the alternative.
After eight years, this was where my city and i saw each other. It was a comfortable relationship. We knew our likes and dislikes, forgave our imperfections and were happy to just tick along that way. But that wasn't quite it; no, it never really is. Just like the city itself, while all looked well enough on the surface it was less than ideal, less than whole, underneath. There was a hollowness within my social and work life that tinted everything like a dark lens.
That of course could have been the polluted air in front of my face before I sucked it down to my lungs. At first the thick greyness hanging in the air and cutting visibility to just what lay across the road was all part of the crazy fun of newness but I stopped laughing when I was regularly visited by the tonsillitis fairy. You know the one: it turns up in the middle of the night, smacks a fever into your head and attempts to turn your throat inside out. And unlike the tooth fairy, doesn't even have the decency to leave any money. I had the entire routine down: at the first sign of symptoms I'd be at the hospital like an experienced hypochondriac with a drip in my arm. And if it wasn't the air that might get you that other little necessity, food, could do you in if you chose the wrong places to shop (or in most local cases didn't have an option). Lives were still cheap here with money to be made on anything and anybody, and without any consumer regulatory body it was all just turning into one big game of 'dare'.
Perhaps the entire ploy was to just get us to spend more time in the safety of our office environment. It was clever as we all certainly fell for it, spending way more time there than necessary to get any sensible task done. But of course, many times these were no sensible tasks. In many instances these were to educate clients in a process, or to pander to the whims and egos of those interested in promoting their own fame just as much as Product X.
Without the novelty of newness, work did not live up to what it should have been. And besides, my face's ethnicity was limiting my future potential and a life of working behind the scenes was not enough of an option. Fate also didn't place a significant other on my lap (dancing preferably but in whatever guise would have been fine) and so lap free, there was nothing tying me there – or even to any bedposts for that matter.
But friends... Well, they were not short of supply. Just as there were many who wouldn't fuss over their fellow citizen there were more who would go out of their way to make a foreigner feel at home. One of the most difficult things with living in such a different society was the greater degree of dependence you attributed to your friendships. Or perhaps that hopelessness was just me as I tend to always look for help when my shoelaces unravel. Sometimes I would need assistance in reading documents, dealing with real estate agents, or even asking why something was the way it was – things traditionally unnecessary. Of course it wasn't a matter of continuously asking dumb ass questions on my part, just the occasional lame one, but these were always taken with an air of willingness to help from both locals and other foreigners. These connections kept a fair degree of sanity in the adventure and were no doubt a reason to keep me there longer.
I could have simply brushed whatever niggling doubts I had under the carpet, as was my housekeeping Ayi's method of cleaning by the way, and just continued allowing those years to continue to tick on but I know I would have just been selling myself short. And for someone who embraces change like they embrace a cactus – slowly and cautiously – it was difficult to call it quits as Shanghai was just too seductive a mistress to simply turn your back on. You know by breaking it off you probably won't be friends.
Ultimately, it's an unreal world; kind of like living on the moon or in space. With enough time you adapt to this but the down side is that you're no longer conditioned for life on earth. There's nothing wrong with either but after a while you can no longer choose, becoming like a Chinese passport holder with limited mobility but with a slightly greater chance of critiquing the ruling party without being thrown in jail. And as excellent as that consolation prize might be, it's just shy of being enough.
2004 felt like a different world to the one I faced in 2012. As I tell time via technology, I arrived with a new thumb drive of 256mb and left with hard drives of 2tb; new TVs were a whopping 15cm thin; and Facebook was two separate words. I always suspected time ran differently there. Kind of like having its own version of dog years. We associate and fall in love with a when just as much as a where and perhaps over time it's the when we long for most as the where will always be there in some form or another. The when is the fleeting one, the delicate one that's more valuable as once it's past it can never be recreated. That was my Shanghai when and it's something I'll always treasure as I prepare for a new where and when to make myself at home.
