High in Shanghai

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  Shanghai, China
Tuesday, September 2, 2008

My three nights in Shanghai were much like a blissful dream that, once awake, you can't seem to remember the details but the afterglow of nocturnal happiness lingers well after the toast has been buttered. Sitting on the train leaving the city, I can't seem to recall everything I did or if I did much at all. I can say, though, that I enjoyed it. Here are the few highlights I do remember.

The first night we decided to dip our toes in Shanghai decadence and treat ourselves to a high-class Chinese meal. Eating dinner very late for the Chinese at 9:00, we sat nearly alone as dish after dish appeared from the kitchen. No less than four waiters catered to our every whim. Each and every time Adam spoke Chinese, all of them smiled broadly, giggled, then covered their mouths in embarrassment. Watching the waiters cover their faces, I realized that they were physically acting out the term "to lose face."

Because honor is so important in China, apologies and the acceptance of responsibility for failure can be hard to come by. In fact, the Chinese do not have a concrete term for "sorry", but rely on several degrees of phrases that, to my American mind, skirt responsibility. When embarrassing things happen to the Chinese, they literally cover their face - as if their hands can physically separate their identity from blame. Adam told me a story that illustrates the deep entrenchment of losing face within the Chinese psyche. His friend accidentally walked in on a Chinese girl who was naked. Instead of covering her body, the girl instead covered her face and stood in bare silence. An American woman would take action by fixing the problem, or in other words, she would cover her body. But the Chinese, they ignore the problem and instead try to hide themselves from blame.  Of course the fear of losing face can also propel the Chinese to achieve great things - the Olympics for example. But if no one in society claims responsibility for failures, how can society solve its problems?

In any case, that night we tested the waters of Shanghai extravagance and found it quite intoxicating. We quickly became enamored. The next day we sipped tea at a famous teahouse in Yu Yuan Gardens, following the recommendation of Queen Elizabeth and President Clinton. That night we enjoyed the best the French Concession had to offer us - and it was the most delicious meal I've had since I can remember. Now high on Shanghai, we decided to literally go high as well. The next night, we had drinks at the posh Cloud 9 bar atop the Jin Mao towers, 90 stories above the humming city below. Drinking an overpriced Riesling while surrounded by important-looking businessmen and their retinue of clinging women, I couldn't help but to think "Jason, I have finally made it." The self-satisfaction faded quickly when the check arrived and I noticed the newfound and unappealing slenderness of my wallet. Realizing I hadn't made much of anything quite yet, we disembarked from Cloud 9 a little more sober and much more poor.

Yes, we visited museums and other cultural icons while in Shanghai. And yes, they were all great. But like the millions of Chinese who are for the first time achieving a modicum of wealth, Rachael, Adam, and I fell wallets first into the allure of Shanghai - a Chinese city that sometimes forgets its Chinese pedigree. I just wonder what China will be like one hundred or fifty or even ten years from now - backwards Beijing or scintillating Shanghai?

Maybe it's best to have a little of both.

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