Shanghai'd

Sick.

Some musings on being bing le (again!), the pollution in China, the 2008 Beijing Olympics and how it's all connected. Last week was the 4th time already this year I've been out sick. Nothing serious, just a nagging cold, but well above the norm for me. Just another one of those hidden hardships in living abroad in a place like China where the sanitation, environment and overall living standard is not on a par with the US.

It's no secret (except maybe in the state-owned media) that China's environmental problems are a ticking time bomb. Just check out this downright frightening NY Times article. Scarier still are the innumerable unreported "incidents" and those still waiting to happen. One potential bright spot is the upcoming 2008 Olympics in Beijing. For better or worse, the entire country realizes that the international spotlight will be focused directly on China and the environmental impacts that have resulted from years of unprecedented economic development. The hackneyed adage of "losing face" most definitely applies here. The last thing China wants is an Olympic marathoner to succumb to the smog and collapse just before the finish line. Bad PR for the PRC. Beijing (and the rest of China) have therefore been putting their best face forward recently. Olympic construction is scheduled to finish months ahead of the opening ceremony and a city-wide construction ban put in place to allow ample time for the dust to settle. There has also been lots of talk of restricting car usage and even seeding clouds to artificially generate rain in an attempt to control the troublesome dust storms that plague Beijing.

One of my favorite blogs has some more information here.

Laurel and I experienced a small, yet highly visible "Green-washing" last weekend in Qingdao, which will host the 2008 Olympic sailing and windsurfing events. The picture below shows a line of wind-powered street lights at the venue.



Throughout Qingdao, there was also a huge crop of propaganda posters and banners touting such slogans as "Sail with Heart, Sail to Success" and "Green Qingdao, Green Olympics". Interestingly, Qingdao literally means green island.

Will any of this make a measurable difference? Unfortunately, probably not. China still relies heavily on coal-powered electric plants and the growing urban class is demanding 1st-world automobiles and consumer goods at a dizzying pace. But change has to start somewhere, and if the highly-visible Olympics can be a catalyst for real environmental reform, however modest, I'm all for it. Maybe it'll save me a few sick days.

Final note. I recently discovered this interesting website which records daily air quality levels in Shanghai, in case you want to keep tabs on my lungs.

Qingdao Beer Festival.

The Chinese Manchu government ceded the coastal city Qingdao to Kaiser Wilhelm II, the awesomely-named German emperor and king of Prussia in 1898 in retribution for killing two German missionaries. As Germans do, they immediately commenced a regime of efficiency and beer brewing, the latter resulting in the famous (at least in China) Qingdao beer brand. Some may know this as "Tsingtao" instead of "Qingdao" a classic example of the confusion caused by differing systems of phonetic Romanization of Chinese characters. If you're not up to speed on all the subtle differences between Pinyin and Wade-Giles, just know that both the beer and the city are pronounced "Ching dow".



Qingdao is the vastly superior Budweiser of China. Ubiquitous in all restaurants, convenience stores and karaoke bars. A bargain at 4 to 15 yuan a bottle. Each year, the city Qingdao pays homage to the beer with the Qingdao Pijiu jie. Laurel and I joined two friends for a long weekend enjoying the beer (served neatly in a plastic bag), beaches and seafood that rightfully make Qingdao famous.



The beer festival gets a thumbs up, the beaches a crowded, dirty thumbs down (at least in Qingdao ... see picture below ... nearby Huangdao was nice), and the seafood two big thumbs up.



Finally, we've had requests for more pictures of the authors, so here you go, Mom.

Pictures.

Some random zhao pian taken recently. Excuse the poor quality - most of these are taken with my camera phone while riding my bike.

"Styrofoam box bike man". This is actually one of the least interesting oversized bike loads I've seen, but you get the idea.



"Oil tanker". I knew the Chinese liked to cook with a lot of oil, but I didn't realize that local restaurants got the stuff delivered in bulk by the cholesterol man. Seriously, that's cooking oil! Just skip the middle man and hook the hose directly to my veins.



And this final one, which I like to call "Bird flu on wheels" requires no explanation, which is good, because I have none.

Air Conditioning Broken.

This morning, I arrived at work to find the electricity off in the office ... again. This happens about once a months, but rarely lasts for more than 15 minutes, after which time a maintenance worker arrives, jiggles some wires, flips a circuit breaker or two and inexplicably the juice is back on.

What does this have to do with kong tiao huai le? My post this morning was going to just be about the minor inconvenience of the power, with the conclusion that it could certainly be worse ... I could be in India, right?

Then it got worse.

An email from the HR department popped up in my inbox (in Chinese) but even with my admittedly limited Chinese reading ability I could get the gist. Today, the kong tiao huai le. Middle of August, 12th floor, hundreds of PCs, no air flow. You can do the math. I spent the rest of the day sitting in a cast of my own ass sweat, trying to get some work done. Fortunately, in a move of managerial brilliance, Sam saved the day by springing for afternoon popsicles for the whole office.

Air Quality.

I knew the recent string of clear, blue skies in Shanghai was in no way ordinary. So it came as no big surprise to read today's Shanghai Daily article which in fact confirmed a record-setting 58 straight days of "good to excellent" kong qi zhi liang. Before experiencing this pleasantly unexpected weather in person, I always assumed that pictures like this one below of Shanghai's skyline were Photoshopped versions of some dreary, grey-skied original used to lure blissfully ignorant tourists to the city.



I take news of this weather with mixed emotions. On one hand, I'm ecstatic to once again be enjoying clear, sunny days and starry nights (yes, we've actually been able to see the moon and even a few stars lately). It makes my entire outlook better - I run outside again, I don't need to wear a surgical mask when riding to and from work ... vitamin D does a body good. On the other hand, it's depressing. If these days have been recording setting, chances are it's only going to get worse for the rest of our time in Shanghai.

Taking a broader view, it's sad that the environmental conditions in China (and the US for that matter) have gotten so bad that a blue sky has come to be treated as a welcome anomaly, and not the norm. I think about how life here would be if you could reliably breath the air, safely drink the water, and not have to worry about the mercury, pesticides and who knows what else is ingested at every meal. Maybe I'd just take it all for granted ... but for now, I'm definitely not going to, at least not for another 58 days.

Theft.

It took almost 7 months, but I finally experienced my first touqie in Shanghai. What did my fast fingered friend make off with? A water bottle. Two, actually. On two separate occasions. Within 12 hours. Less than a mile apart.

The first took place last night when I safely parked and locked my bike outside of HongKou football stadium before watching a couple of football matches with my friends from work. After the game I was pleasantly surprised to find my bike still there (HongKou is not the nicest part of town, however gentrifying rapidly ... think East 11th in Austin), but sans water bottle.

I obviously should have learned my lesson, which I suppose is that hydration just doesn't pay, but no sooner than this morning was I again guilty of carelessly leaving my water bottle secured only by the cage mounted to my bike frame. This time at nearby LuXun park for my morning run. After an hour of exercise in the steamy Shanghai environs, I was eagerly anticipating a thirst quenching drink when I got back to my bike. To my dismay, the water bottle thief had struck again.

As first thirst, then frustration, then pity, then hilarity and finally more thirst set in, I tried to imagine what someone wants with my dirty old plastic water bottles. These aren't fashionable Nalgenes we're talking about; just the cheapo ones that they hand out at every athletic / engineering event with ridiculous logos and take up space in my bottom kitchen drawer.

If anyone spots a guy sipping his Oolong out of a 2003 Muddy Muddy bottle, let me know.

Our neighborhood.

I think one thing you friends at home wonder about the most is our daily experiences. So I can tell you about the walk I just took through womende qu to the grocery store. I left the apartment around 7:40 at night. It was dark, kind of, but the sky was so clear. Typhoon season and all the smog is blown away. I think this weekend's typhoon is near Hong Kong. Anyway, I could see the moon and the outlines of the buildings were crisp. Beautiful. I start the walk to the grocery store. I am out to buy honey for the ayi to make granola tomorrow. She can't seem to find it so I am going to the grocery store 10 minutes walk instead of 5 minutes to see if I can find it there. First of all, even though its night and dark I cannot be afraid walking alone. At the moment I start to feel a bit a alone all I have to do is look up and I see at least 30 people walking, standing, sitting, driving, riding, eating, etc. Other times I have to be careful not to trip over people. Everyone is in the street. Its a hot night and no one has air conditioning. I walk past the pallet break down store, and get a whiff of some sewage smell. Then the huge pharmacy where you can get whatever you want over the counter if you can ask for it in Chinese. Then a series of small "restaurants" - 5 kuai dinners served out of the wok on the street. There are tables, in the street. This area is full of empty taxis, the taxi drivers are all eating, smoking, chatting after the rush hour they finally rest. This is where I get the first shout-out "Hello! Taxi!". Just whatever English they can throw at my blond head. I walk on. I can see a young girl scraping at an old man's toes through the plateglass windows of the foot massage place. Smell the urine in the corner where someone is inevitably peeing (probably a taxi driver). A woman is making fried rice on the corner in her pushcart stall. Second shout-out in 5 minutes: "Hello! Nice to meet you!". I get to the neon park that is the supermarket - and its packed. But why not? Its air conditioned and no one cares if you walk around in your PJs. Can't find the honey. In fact they have rearranged the store. This happens about twice a month. I think because people go to the store everyday it is a way to keep them interested. So I find all sorts of things I didn't even know they sold, but no honey. The line is too long anyway, I head in the direction of the other store. Its packed too, but they have honey. They have also rearranged, and where I thought it was (and told the ayi to look for it), I find women's underwear. They have also changed the first floor, its multi level to save space - definitely not for convenience, so now there is no choice but to walk past the fish, turtles, eels and frogs. I make it out and into the street. One more shout-out for the night, on the corner where tens of vendors have laid tarps on the ground selling, well I would call it, junk. Old fans, clothes and books. Hair accessories, lighters, dish clothes. DVDs, wallets, belts and bags. Anything you could want. I get home. Its 8:30. The air conditioning is on. I think I'll put on my PJs now...