5 hour layover.
14 hours to Shanghai.
A fourteen hour flight allows for a lot of thoughts on the various way one could die in a plane crash and what would one do in that 3 minute buffer period of one's awareness of imminent death. Consequently, to introduce the characters of the story:
I: I would stay alert and flexed eager for any chance of survival.
Dan: I would take all my sleeping pills and pass out for a painless death.
Sasha: I would stick my cock in your mouth.
We landed in Shanghai without me having to perform fellatio.
Our hotel was plush; we were greeted by 4 Chinese women eager to serve. Somewhat odd given we are simply students but they acted as if we were there to cure the country of malaria.
The first 5 days consisted of the conference where we all had to present our research in front of scrutinizing peers.
I should introduce another character here: Mehdi, who is the most random Moroccan dude and my current roommate here, a free spirit who dresses slick and wears a shit load of cologne and orders elaborate massages in our room.
Our presentations went really well, the applause was reminiscent of Michael Jackson's 1989 MTV video music award performance – not really, but well nonetheless.
Shanghai is an irrational city. The rich and poor areas are closely intertwined. You could spend 2 $ for dinner or 30 $ within a single block. The new architecture is that of glossy jagged skyscrapers that form a unique skyline of buildings that don't really respect each other's design. Around the gloss remain areas of authentic Shanghai. Literally, in a street lined with fancy department stores restaurant and hotels there will be little alleyways leading to neighborhoods divided by narrow streets connected by clothes lines supporting the drying laundry of the wickedly poor. These areas are quaint, friendly, and are more of what I imagine the rest of China to be. This city is young, confused, and undergoing a mayor growth spurt something we're all familiar with.
The air: I could write essays about the air here, its texture and variation is unique to the district we're in. But basically there is an odor specific to each area, and it's all so phlegmish – it just sticks and slows you down.
The driving is insane, throngs of cyclist and scooters are constantly penetrated by non-slowing car traffic; but seemingly no one gets hurt (irrationality seems to work here).
We get a lot of stares but it's the burn victim stare: they take a look and quickly divert their eyes not to make you feel uncomfortable.
The common dialogue in Shanghai goes like this:
Hello, Hello, Hello… Rolex, yes, very nice, Rolex yes, no ? DVD yes, no? Lady spa yes ? sex massage yes, very pretty lady yes, very pretty, no ?..
Anyone approaches you in English Shanghai it's for the following reasons:
a) to sell you something
b) to scam you
c) a combination of a) and b)
Interesting Shanghaise styles:
When hot and humid (every day that I've been here) the men like to roll up their t-shirts and just let it hang out, it's emasculating but has this aura of: I just don't give a fuck.
The women in general are more conservative unless you're in a western club, where things are all so Montreal .
This city is an absolute spectacle in all ways you can imagine, and it is absolutely worth seeing. The stories are abound and random and I'll tell you another time..
Bamboo scaffolds
Shanghai alleys
Cityscapes
Pink shadows
