through the looking glass

turns amusing when lots of people get involved.

wait, rewind, you’ve no idea what I’m talking about.

the poet and his wife are soon to be married. well, technically they were legally married, oh, two years ago, but apparently until the actual nuptials are held it doesn’t count. right, moving on. a couple days ago, after extensive exploration of my camera and lenses, the poet expressed his wish for me to take their wedding photos. unlike the states, this does not happen the day of. it’s happening tomorow.

so today’s plan was simple. fuxi temple square (lots of pillars, dramatic, ooh), nanguo si (which I’d never actually been to but it’s a mountaintop, that’s got to be a good thing). check the locations, check the light, make a plan, keep going if everything’s ugly. the poet and I executed the above this morning. went for nuroumien. checked out his new pad (tertiary location, gorgeous spanking new flat). waited for his wife. who arrived, gave a 20 second look at the photos, and we were out the door to meet her friend who’s an amateur (had to try three different spellings to get that thank you) photographer.

first stop, top of the north hill. lovely view over the polluted city. wonky light (though I still haven’t figured out why, wasn’t the day). but nice for fuzzy bluegreen background outdoor stuff. then off to see if we could sneak into my friends old house (we couldn’t. it’s an unfinished museum.) then through art alley to the city god’s temple (where the keeper once gave me a gift-to-the-god pear, for luck, which I planted in a pot on my balcony). then down some really bizarre alleys that I thought would lead to some brilliant undiscovered courtyard house but in fact held a camera shop, where the amateur (only twice that time) wanted to get me a new lens cap (mine went missing a while ago. whoops.) and the guy behind the counter, after trying to sell me film, reassured the couple that if I shot in raw I would, as stated, be able to blow up the prints nicely for them. oh, and he set to raw without my noticing, so the rest of the day isn’t processed yet as I can’t seem to find my copy of c1.

wedding dress shop, aka scouting for costumes, is mostly a memory I’d rather like to forget (those places creep me out), however a uniquely flattering bit came when, deciding she approved of my fairly careless work thus far, amateur (first time!) decided she wanted me shooting her and kept dragging me away from the poet’s wife, who was of course why I was there. aah well. got a lovely neck shot that the poet proclaimed ‘classic’, though I’m still not sure in which sense.

oh, and did I mention that I bloody love my 85mm at 1.8? mmmmmmmmmmm.

took a walk downtown in the spring sun to run a few errands. singing along to oldies while meandering side streets. good.

78 kuai for 4 gilette mach3 turbo blades and didn’t even care.

last stop, supermarket. the music? madonna, la isla bonita. followed by….we will we will rock you

next, a cabbie who didn’t ask a single one of the usual questions (though we did get into an interesting conversation about why he asked where we were from instead of where I was from, as I was the only passenger) but did catch me up on the local foreigner gossip. I swear, cabbies know everything.

and capped the evening off with frozen chicken nuggets and ranch dressing and a visit from the illustrious poet, who has asked me to take wedding photos for his upcoming nuptials. we discussed locations, and I showed him the first collage I’ve been able to complete since moving to china. and, he knows where to buy proper canvas.

good day.

and apparently it’s not over yet….
(chuckles erupt sporadically from behind laptop screen)

while wandering the web I came across : Here We Go, sponsored by the china daily……”use accurate english to welcome the olympics”

I’m not sure whether this sign’s supposed to be filed under correct or incorrect, but it proclaims, all caps : ‘GET OFF THE BICYCLE’

another reader pointed out this brilliant one from the Office of English Speaking for Beijing Residents, in reference to the Summer Palace : “The fact is that three quarters of the Park are water surface. The introduction says, however, “three quarters are under water””

(actually, I really hope they don’t take the ‘fuck goods’ signs out of all the grocery stores. sniggering while buying raisins from that aisle is half the fun of the supermarket)

this one’s potentially overly correct….
” Another sign that makes me really sick is “Racist Park”…….For the tourists from English speaking countries seeing this sign, it would immediately occur to their minds that racial were legal in China, racists could celebrate in the park. Actually, this is the Park of Chinese Ethnical Minorities.”

but my favorite, the one that has me adding this to a post before even fully exploring the site…

“Please help us build more rubbish shelters.”

yes, this is the beauty of the english language. grammatically correct? yup. contextually? Wheeeeeeee. gotta keep that rubbish out of the rain. might damage it dontcha know. maybe this ties in to the new 8 prides and shames of good socialist people, the one saying not to waste anything.

but the truly brilliant bit is, the guy who posted the above did so to point out the ‘incorrectness’ of the following sign at the great wall

“If you would like to join us, rubbish will never be homeless.”

which I think is just plain gorgeous on so many levels (not the least of which is, also on the same sign, ‘Parking Lot –>’ )

yup, definitely a very good day.

gregor and noz had birthdays around the same time; to celebrate, a half dozen 18 year olds and I accosted Xi’an for the weekend.

recommended ::

Bell Tower Hostel. Gorgous staff (well, except for crazy manager lady, duck and cover). Volunteer ‘R’ (name witheld to protect the innocent, if you go you’ll not be able to miss her) is officially the first Chinese woman I’ve met with full blown sarcasm, how could I not adore her. clean, cozy beds (dorm 30/night in 8 person room, high season rate), clean bathrooms, superb showers. and lovely western breakfast with proper coffee at only 5 kuai a cup.

Babyface. ok, so the drinks were a bit pricey by tianshui standards, and the whole ’spend 400 kuai if you want one of the cool big booths on the balcony’ I could probably live without. but as we spent a lot more than that on drinks anyway I suppose it didn’t matter much, and who can argue with a place that has a huge room playing gloria gainor’s ‘I will survive’ and a smaller back area with house music.

the gay bar. I can’t remember the name, I couldn’t begin to tell you where it is, but I met the most realistic looking drag queens. and cheap beer. and a playground outside. cool.

thanks but no thanks ::

Feelings Bar. such a great name, so promising. but as I walked to the door I literally ran away screaming ‘run away, run away!’ at the frignteningly deathly kareoke sounds emitting from within.

also worth noting
the pizza at both the above and the other newish hostel a bit west of the drum tower (on west road, past mcdonalds) were brilliant, and the caesar salad at the latter was almost die-for good.

the 24 hour tea shop near the south gate does not in fact serve food 24 hours, but the mcdonalds on south road does

the 24 hour ktv, also on south road, appears to be not so much 24 hours anymore. or so said the face of the burly bouncer we encountered at 5am.

pics added in migrations but once again I didn’t use the cam as much as I should have. aah, well.

overall, pretty much the only chinese thing about the weekend was the fact that we were, you know, in china at the time. not bad to have one of those every now and again, really.

so I’m going to attempt to go back through time again and while I won’t much be able to stir too many great stories I want to get down geographically relevant information fellow wanderers might be able to get some use out of.

shanghai rocks. I’m not entirely sure it counts as china though. no sound of hawking phlem on the streets or in restaraunts, people seem to realize that using a cell phone is possible without screaming, cabbies wear white gloves, and everyone appears to acknowledge the rules of the road.

unlike beijing, shanghai’s a walking city. wander anywhere and you’ll pass modern malls then ancient villas. beautiful juxtapositions.

favorite walking route :: french concession

things to do ::

check out the art. there’s a plethora of small galleries scattered around town, lots around
the bund. brilliant. pick up a copy of the free english magazine for a full guide.

shop. bargain hard at the fakes market. peek into amazing little stores scattered about.

play. I hear tell of a bar with no name that you have to find without a sign. mmm, worthy.
barring that, ask young locals what’s currently hot, it changes every 30 seconds

best view :: night river cruise

good eats :: too many to list. check out shanghai eats for some great recommendations

eats to be avoided at all costs :: ‘cafe montmartre’ near the fakes market. ugh. down two days thanks to a pretty plate of pasta.

favorite hang-out :: o’malley’s irish pub. highballs, guines on tap, gorgeous food and a fireplace.

our hostel :: shanghai easytour international youth hostel (57 Jiangyin road). brilliant location (near the museum of modern art, people’s park, and huaihua road). not a lot of atmosphere but a very nice staff, clean rooms, and pleasant deck for morning coffee (bought at the starbuck down the road). 50/person/night dorm bed without advance booking.

fyi ::

the subway’s only really useful for very long trips or if you’re solo. within the city proper it’s cheaper for three to cab it than go underground. that and you miss out on the acres of subway malls.

in one of the big malls on huaihua there’s a fantastic english language bookstore. browse with caution, their prices are more often than not astronomical. but worthy of note for those of us jonesing for a good read

in that same mall, and more elsewhere, is the brilliant city shop. foreign food galore. great deli sandwiches too. reasonable prices (considering)

if you can, book your hotel online. prices in person are apparently non negotiable, however most of the sites have a discount available.

beware the touts. seriously, it’s near impossible to walk in some bits due to their overpowering presence. you’ll know you are getting close to the fakes market, as their numbers increase exponentially.

I’d disembarked dreaming of russian architecture and shuffling streets only to find a plaque reading ‘we’ve proudly preserved 11 buildings’. right.

however the trip is absolutely worth it for the ice sculpture festival alone. one night is enough. but go early and stay late. art in ice. gorgeous.

the main drag is where most of the few remaining buildings reside. it’s also where people go to buy overpriced things. it’s also where you’ll find a pile of foreigners and all things catering to em. nothing to recommend or avoid, it just is what it is.

at -30C, dress like a small child in antarctica. it’s more fun that way. don’t forget your shades.

hotel :: we splurged on the ‘modern’, ironically the oldest hotel in the city. a bit run down, a bit too expensive at 300 kuai/night for a double with bath, but worth every luxurious penny for the fantastic architecture, deco lobby, and top floor room under its mansard roof with a fantastic view (well, you have to stand on the bed to see out the window, but still)

fyi :: with out side trip to russia thwarted by unknown bus schedules on the russian side (though I hear tell it is posible to get to vladivotok via a 12 hours train ride, border crossing, then 4 hour bus I have yet to get confirmation for the bus bit) we spent only two rather blase days in the city, heading asap to the much more pleasant (and cheaper) jilin, an easy 5 hour train ride south.

the royal society of literature asked current authors which books kids should read before they leave school. some interesting choices. tempted, I’ve written my own list as well

the magic well :: piero ventura
where the wild things are :: maurice sendak
harry potter series :: j.k. rowling
his dark materials :: phillip pullman
secret diary of adrian mole, age 13 3/4 :: sue townsend
the witches :: roald dahl
are you there god, it’s me margaret :: judy blume
madame bovary :: gustave flaubert
catcher in the rye :: jd salinger
the secret garden :: frances hodgson burnett
farenheit 451 :: ray bradbury

and by the time one leaves high school
terry pratchett
kinky friedman
shakespeare
william gibson / rudy rucker
the bronte sisters
henry james
dostoevski
george orwell
american gods :: neil stevenson
seraphita :: honore de balzac

what’s your list? : )

right, so that’s obviously a bit over the top. dramatic, like. but my visit back to the states opened my eyes, not only about my own personal changes but on the bizarre juxtipositions of the meanings of freedom.

one moment, one case. this is how I see america today :

my mother wanted to go to epcot center. tix were free, she has her own version of international shopping, so off we went. got lucky on the parking, free and close. enter.

at the gates, time to open those bags. burly men with flashlights paw through the stuff people’re toting. my guy bangs a very expensive camera lens with a flashlight, I tell him to be bloody careful, he panics a bit and makes me remove it from the bag and unwrap it from its bandana enclosure. and all I can think is, if this is a bomb what good is making me unwrap it here going to be, and isn’t having me be the one to do it perhaps not the best idea, really.

search done, I follow the ‘rents to the gate. card into slot, no problem. uum, thumb on scanner? what? uum, WHAT???

not a soul blinks. hundreds upon hundreds of people blithly insert their fingers for encoding without a second thought as I stand there, dumbfounded.

I can’t do it. my father and I have a very terse moment as I try to explain why it’s completely out of the question for me to say that this sort of thing is ok, which is what I’d be doing if I went along with it. you can’t exactly take a moral stand from ‘inside’ the park. meanwhile the monitor guy is watching, breaking into our conversation only to mention that the info is encoded onto the card so people can’t share tickets. after fifteen minutes back and forth my father finally thinks to ask this guy whether there is an option two. he says “of course. show me id and sign the card and you’re all set.”

so. not only are people willingly giving up something, they’re doing it when they don’t have to.

at disney world.

of course, I’ll now defeat the point of my own narrative by mentioning that I joked around the rest of the afternoon about being shadowed by the disney police. only it was one of those jokes that was funny cause you rather thought it might be true.

the nanny has seen fit to represent me to the world! right, that should be re-present, as it were, but you get my meaning methinks.

while I’ve been away it seems I grew very popular. after an evening of comment browsing I now know how to stop that pesky balding, enlarge my penis, have smoother skin, stop smoking with a handy dandy little patch, and price hemorrhoids. I’ll admit that last one had me confused for a while, I wasn’t sure there was a market for their sale.

but these…it’s tempting to leave em when they get creative with the message body…

“codfish?Africanized,accurately lake?quantification antagonizing”

“ambidextrous proclaim Gibraltar autoregressive premonition add patch”

“tolerate worth!wholly,quadratically retrieve!jokers impossibility teasing discover”

“unintentional inferred rescue observable labored monarch”

“squishy!advisory?abashing,brushed maple megaword smiled flourishes:fiddlesticks”

“defile,handiwork compounding Seneca inflatable residence philosophize enjoys”

“substitute trencher precociously fronting submittal jerks”

“inhere.bow everyone translate openings jerk!Zoroastrian scribbled.”

“stamped Tchaikovsky.Boswellize”

aah, poetry.

apologies if I’ve accidently deleted any actual comments.

all sorts of pics are up on imageevent, look left over the next while as I tidy up the place.