Shanghai Expat: February 2010

I spent much of February traveling, not in Shanghai. (I visited Hong Kong for a weekend and, later, I escaped Shanghai for a longer trip to both Singapore and Cambodia.) Thus, I have less than usual to discuss in this post.

I took my longer trip over Chinese New Year (CNY). Chinese New Year is a big holiday: most companies, including mine, give employees the whole week off. Everyone travels home to celebrate with their families. Having heard stories about massive celebrations, fireworks at all hours, etc., I was looking forward to it. Some of my coworkers tell me amazing stories about parades of massive dragons held up by dozens of people, about a huge seesaw to pound sticky rice into flour to make cakes, and more. However, I was told by everyone I talked to who had spent Chinese New Year in Shanghai that Shanghai was boring -- everyone travels to their hometowns. Because Shanghai grew so much due to immigration, it's effectively depopulated.

Indeed, half my office took off the whole week before Chinese New Year for vacation. By the Thursday before CNY, maybe an eighth of the office remained. After 1:30pm on Friday, I didn't see another soul in the office. On Saturday when we left for the airport, the roads in Shanghai were practically empty.

Anyway, suffice it to say: this holiday is huge in China. I expected something comparable to Christmas or New Years in the states, but this was way more. For comparison, in California, I see more people in the office on the workdays between Christmas and New Years than I saw on the Thursday before CNY in China. Furthermore, I even see more people in the office on a weekend between Christmas and New Years in California than I saw on the Friday workday before CNY. And whereas restaurants in the states close only on the day of the holiday, some of our favorite small, family-run shops were closed the whole week leading up to CNY and the first two weeks of the new year as well.

We saw many stands selling large fireworks, some with big cylinders, larger than I've see sold in the states. Di Yin observed that one such stand near our apartment in a block away from a sign that says fireworks are illegal.

The holiday continues for fifteen days, though the first few are the most important (and the only ones people get holidays from work). Nevertheless, even in the middle of the second week--I was back from my longer trip by then--, we'd hear occasional firecrackers in the evening, and this is a part of town where the police enforce noise restrictions. In places with less enforcement, it was worse: some of Di Yin's family friends said they had trouble sleeping due to the noise. I can believe it: Di Yin and I went to their apartment for dinner on the last night (the 15th day, which was February 28th this year) and the noise was incredible. Admittedly, this night is a bigger deal than the other nights in the last half of the holiday, but it made such a crazy racket that speech was difficult. Furthermore, the racket lasted for hours. See the pictures for photos from this dinner and a recording of the sound.

All this goes to further emphasize the scope of the holiday. Can you imagine people in the states setting off fireworks on, say, July 16th (an arbitrary day in the middle of a week, far after July 4th) or January 5th (ditto, except relative to New Years)? It's inconceivable. But the holiday continues here in China for two weeks.

Outings
Here is the smattering of photos from my various outings in Shanghai this month. They document outings not mentioned in this post.

Dumpling Quest
One day soon after our return from Singapore, we decided to go out for some traditional Shanghainese dumplings. We selected Din Tai Fung (DTF), a well respected Taiwanese chain that specializes in xiao long bao (soup dumplings). Though an expensive meal by Shanghai standards and though it was in a classy setting and had good service (a rare event in Shanghai), we were disappointed with our food. Admittedly, we didn't go to DTF's flagship Shanghai restaurant in Xintiandi.

We decided to round out dinner by going for a stroll to the food street not far away.

Sadly, the food street was closed and clearly in the process of being demolished. Instead, we re-explored Wujiang Road, which we'd previously visited for pho. There, we went to a local chain, Yang's, basically a hole in the wall which specializes in a version of pan-fried soup dumplings. (I visited a different instance of this chain last summer.) This was so much better than DTF that there was no comparison. I've very glad we followed DTF with these; they made our night's quest for Shanghainese dumplings a success.

Ice cream for dessert wrapped up the whole evening well.

I took pictures of the evening outing, including the nicely decorated streets.

Oddities & Other Remarks
Only when reading my Hong Kong guidebook did I realize why my office building is missing a 14th floor. I knew 4 is an unlucky number because it's a homophone in Mandarin to the word "death." 14 is apparently very unlucky because it could either be said as "ten four" or as "one four"; the latter is a homophone for "want to die" (in Mandarin) or for "certainly die" (in Cantonese). I guess this is the equivalent of skipping the 13th floor of buildings in the western world. Incidentally, some buildings skip the 4th and all other floors that end in the digit 4; mine, oddly, only skips 14.

In restaurants in China, when you put your jacket over the back of your seat, they put covers over your jacket. The covers are shaped like seat covers (not coat covers), basically holding the jacket tightly against the seat. I'm not sure why the practice started: protecting against spills, preventing someone from stealing the jacket, compressing bulky jackets so they don't get in the way, or securing jackets so they don't fall on the floor. Regardless, though it's probably a good policy, it's a bit hard to get used to. It always surprises me when I'm sitting and talking and someone starts doing something to back of my seat. Of course, at some restaurants, they're slick enough that I don't notice when they cover our jackets.

I will never understand or be happy living in a country where people at home commonly accept being cold enough to see one's breath (despite having a heater and earning enough money to pay the electricity bill).