Letter #1 ~ My Arrival in China

My airplane was coming in for a landing at Shanghai’s Pudong airport and I was feeling tremendously excited. I’m a school teacher just recently retired. I now had the time to go on an extended trip to China — my first visit to the country in many years.

After the plane touched down and was taxiing to the terminal an announcement came over the loudspeaker, in Chinese (which I didn’t understand) and in English (which I did).

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Shanghai Pudong Airport. Please be sure to take all your belongings with you when you exit the airplane.”

“Oh sure,” I thought casually. “Who’s going to be stupid enough to leave their stuff on the airplane? Come on….”

More than an hour later, and I was still waiting for my wallet at the lost baggage counter. Fortunately I managed to pass through customs because I’d had my passport tucked into a shirt pocket. And luckily the airplane cleaning crew had succeeded in finding the wallet where I’d left it sitting on my seat — with my Canadian ID, credit cards and Chinese cash (“RMB”) inside. But it took them a while to relay it back to me.

So, no real harm done except to my wounded pride. And the fact that my friends who had come to pick me up, waiting on the other side of the exit gate, were obliged to wait for me a little longer. Then wait for me a lot longer.

But after my initial panic was resolved that hour gave me some time to panic a little more. I was planning on spending several months here, and moving around the country a fair bit. What kind of a place was waiting for me, and what was about to happen?

(What would the weather be like? heat and humidity? — can’t take the heat — what about the water? — What about the food, rice and noodles? — waistline enemies — What about the confusing signs, written in Han characters? — big communication barrier — what about the people? — there are a LOT of people! — nobody speaks English here — endless barriers!)

Well, nearly a month has passed since my inauspicious arrival. And frankly, I’ve been having the time of my life. I’ve had what seems like several years of experiences packed into fewer than 30 days. So much to talk about that I hardly know where to start….

These next observations are going to seem a bit random because my head is buzzing with so many ideas that are clamouring to climb out.

First of all, the city where I’m staying: Zhangjiagang (— strange name, I thought) is a large city that is affiliated with a much larger city, Suzhou. Suzhou, in turn, is quite near the even larger city of Shanghai — and cities don’t get much bigger than Shanghai. In short, it’s one huge urban agglomeration. These places are beautiful urban wonders in many ways. I am so impressed by the cleanliness, the orderliness, and the harmony regularly on display in the streets, the buildings, the roads, the parks. There’s an underlying sensibility that ties all of the places together, and they’re making one grand statement: about the power and confidence of the new China.

They are modern, make no mistake about that. Ultra-modern, in fact, in ways that make our own cities and towns seem to lag behind. I’m thinking that the over-all unified sensibility — evident from the precisely trimmed hedges lining the medians to the tall skyscrapers spectacularly lit up at night to the endless marching legions of apartment blocks — are evidence of the power of a central planning authority to make things happen in a coordinated way.

Sure, there are problems with this too; I know, I know. This certainly doesn’t reflect our Canadian way, where every building and neighbourhood in every town make their own statements. I’m not saying this would work for us — but I am saying that it works for the Chinese, and that the results are impressive.

About lighting things up at night. The Chinese love lighting things up, and they do it everywhere. I mean — everywhere. In front of my hotel they’ve hung lights among the leaves in the trees, then wrapped up the tree trunks in more strings of lights, and then, just to be sure, they’ve aimed still more lights at them from the ground.

Forget the trees — what about the skyscrapers I referred to? They light them up so that the whole expanse of their sides become dancing, sparkling displays from top to bottom. It’s as if these entire buildings are being turned into the big outfield scoreboard at the SkyDome. (Pardon me, at the Rogers Centre. When exactly did the corporations win? But that’s another essay….)

Anyway, it’s beautiful. How the heck do they do it? And sure, again, I know, there are problems with this too. You could certainly point out that it represents a huge waste of power. Okay, that’s your opinion. But I think you should be prepared to concede that they’ve turned their outdoor lighting obsession into a new art form, and that it’s a powerful one. The statement they’re making is the same as the one referred to above: about the confidence of the new China.

I’m greatly enjoying my time here, as you may have gathered from the tone of my words. It is not the place I was led to expect it to be, and I’m looking forward to exploring more of it.

More “Letters from China” to come!