Advertisement
Published: August 6th 2007
Edit Blog Post
After a day of rest, Gene and I were feeling rather ambitious and decided to take a walking tour of the Bund along the waterfront. To the Europeans back in the day, the Bund was Shanghai’s Wall Street, a place of intense trading, of fortunes made and lost. For us, the Bund was a good place to people watch and offered great river and city views on a clear day.
From there, we explored “one of Shanghai’s premier sights” in Old Town - Yuyuan Gardens. As Gene and I traversed several pathways through the park, we couldn’t help but wonder what all the hype was about. Yuyuan Gardens stands no competition against America’s infamous botanical gardens. The park appeared to be no more than a peaceful place for the elderly to walk, young couples to gather and workers to enjoy an afternoon lunch.
Racing through our day’s walking tour much quicker than expected, we exited the gardens and came upon a street lined with family-owned shops selling everything from groceries and kitchenware to clothing and souvenirs. Gene and I ducked our heads into a few shops before reaching an alleyway leading into a residential area. We were uncertain as
to whether tourists would be welcome in the area, but concluded that we would get along just fine if we expressed interest in the goods being sold.
Navigating down the narrow walkways decorated with zigzagging lines of wet clothing, I did my best to peer into the open doorways of private homes. Each home consisted of a single room, usually occupied by no more than a bed and a table. I frequently witnessed three people at a time sharing the small room. The streets were filthy and chaotic with people vending from bicycles and pull carts, women hanging their laundry to dry, and individuals sharing communal outdoor wash basins. With no private plumbing, I wondered what sufficed as toilets inside or outside of the home.
We were next off to experience the Yuyuan Bazaar, comprised of two floors of vendor booths. Advised not to visit on the weekend, Gene and I hoped that we would encounter fewer people on a Monday afternoon. However, smaller crowds do not necessarily mean that those in attendance will be any less offensive.
Like a child in an amusement park, I was blissfully skipping along the market side when, out of the
blue, I was steamrolled by a rollie-pollie woman making her way through like a bull in a China shop. I went from zero to bitch in 0.2 seconds as she double-palmed me in the chest and knocked me out of the way. Gene, who missed the whole affair, tuned back into China as I charged the woman from behind and skinned her bare heels with the tread of my hiking shoes.
As she turned abruptly to identify her attacker, I blew stream from my nostrils, stomped my left hoof and scared her away. In other words, I stood there with a glorified look of retaliation as the rollie-pollie glared back at me before heading her separate way. Gene, after I had explained what had happened, laughed himself silly and agreed that our days in China needed to reach an end.
After a two hour afternoon nap to blow off some steam, we headed back to the Bund to purchase tickets for the evening boat tour. We strolled along the waterfront to pass the extra time when we were stopped by a herd of young Chinese men requesting a photo with me. Being the good sport that I am,
I maintained my smile even as the sweat-stained armpit made its way around me and pulled me in. Squeamish, I silently contemplated just how many photos of us would be circulating China come the end of our stay.
A short while thereafter, we were approached by a young Chinese woman who introduced herself as Sunday and asked if she could talk with us to work on her English. She explained that while English is taught in the schools, it is not spoken amongst the Chinese and is, therefore, difficult to practice.
Sunday was also very helpful to us as she did her best to answer any questions we had regarding the Chinese culture. When questioned regarding the Chinese people’s fascination with Americans, Sunday explained that many Chinese people are impoverished and do not have the means to travel into the city. Those who do make their way into the city often encounter Caucasians for the first time and, as a result, wish to take their photo. On other occasions, the Chinese ask to take our picture so that they can share the experience with other family members who have never come across Americans before.
Before long, we
joined the line for what we thought was our seven o’clock cruise. As we handed the staff our 90 Yuan tickets for an upper deck seat (lower deck seats cost only 70 Yuan), we were given a baffled look in exchange. Upon inquiring whether something was wrong, the woman explained that not only were we in line for the wrong ship, but we had also purchased upper deck seats at 90 Yuan for a cruise that sold tickets for the set price of 70 Yuan for both upper and lower deck seats.
Wow, big surprise! We’ve been ripped off again! The woman, clearly perturbed by the scandal, marched us up to the ticket counter and proceeded to get into a Chinese bickering match with the ticket sales lady while we stood dumbfounded at her side. Without having to enunciate a single syllable, we were refunded 40 Yuan and issued a new set of tickets.
For once, the Chinese are on our side. The Good Samaritan was even kind enough to walk us several blocks to the appropriate departure port. For the first time in a long time, Gene and I felt comforted in knowing that there are still
honest people in the World.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.147s; Tpl: 0.023s; cc: 10; qc: 28; dbt: 0.0473s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
darby
non-member comment
hint...
"With no private plumbing, I wondered what sufficed as toilets inside or outside of the home. " A bucket. Funny. That remins me of a joke I once heard...