Old Ladies Hawk Loogies While Biking

I bought a bike a few weeks ago. My Chinese co-workers have no idea what a “bike” is. I have to tell them I bought a “bicycle”. I paid 60 bucks for a Giant brand bike and two locks. The transaction included no English dialogue at all. I picked out a cheap, simple, one-gear bike with the anticipation that it will either break or get stolen. If it breaks, maybe someone can fix it because it is simple, if it gets stolen (and it will), I will get another one.

Anyway, the dude wanted me to test ride it in front of the store. The front of the store is a four lane road with all of the chaos you can imagine. I weaved around on the sidewalk and then jumped into the road when it looked safe and did a few laps. It was a huge relief to remember how to ride a bike.

I bought the bike, told them thanks a lot and took off. I jumped into the road, took two cranks and the bike broke. The chain assembly just exploded. I pushed it back in and the guy was really apologetic (I think). He fixed it quickly and sent me on my way.

Now I am cruising Shanghai dodging busses and taxis on my new bike that may or may not break down at any time. It is actually quite similar to my Subaru situation back home.

The bike has been a great way to tour the town. The traffic moves quite slowly so I have plenty of time to rubber-neck while I ride. Some people think it is crazy to ride a bike in downtown Shanghai. I think maybe it is, but then I see the 80 year ladies rolling along hawking loogies and yelling at the guy in front of them and I realize it is not that big of a deal.

The picture is near the Bund and People’s Square. It is a popular part of town so it is busy.

Notes to Myself

After two months of living in Shanghai I have made it a point to remember the following:

If I am in a cab and my co-worker pisses off the driver, get out. There are no seatbelts in China. When the cab driver flips his lid and starts going 85, weaving and laying on the horn, seatbelts are needed.

Most people will never say no. For that reason, everything is great until it’s not.

The dust in my apartment will never go away. That is because the fog outside is actually air pollution. At first I thought an ionic breeze would help, but now I think it would get overloaded and break.

Red lights are a suggestion.

Just like at home, a free right is permitted on a red light. Unlike at home the driver doesn’t have to stop, or look.

Just because the bus driver is laying on the horn as he comes barreling through an intersection doesn’t mean that he sees you. It means he may or may not see you, but either way, he is not stopping.

When riding a bike, don’t close the eyes to try to get out the metal shavings from the construction site out. Better to have burning eyes than not see the car going the wrong way in the bike lane.

Eat everything. It’s usually good. Ask your Chinese friends not to tell you what it is though.

If you need food but there is no English or pictures, point at stuff. People sitting at the next table do not care. Walk the whole restaurant to see what looks best.

When exiting an insanely crowded subway car, hold your bag with computer in it like a football. Otherwise, while you still have the strap on your shoulder and have left the train, your computer is still on the train wedged into the mass of humanity. If you hear the beeper indicating that the door is closing, pull very hard.

When your co-worker gives you some kind of smelly fish wrapped in plastic for breakfast, eat some, wait till she’s not looking and then chuck it in the trash in the next cubicle. When she gives you another one, say you are full and hide it.

If you say anything in Chinese, expect a barrage of Chinese questions, instructions and yelling. Resort to speaking in English and doing charades. Do not waste too much time doing charades as you look like an idiot.

When the Chinese person is yelling at you, it’s not because they are mad. Unless they are the cab driver your co-worker pissed off.

When construction workers wearing 3-piece suits and leather jackets break the last support that causes a roof to cave in on itself, they think it is just as cool as you do (the caving in part).

I think these tips will help anyone who comes to China. If I can think of some more useful tips I will put them on this internet blog.

That’s all for now.

Abe Lincoln

I was required to get a Chinese name for my official documents. I needed to pick one right away after I arrived in Shanghai. My co-worker Sabrina decided to help me by carefully researching the best name for marriage and wealth. She came up with the name Si Ma Tang. She told me that it was a very good name. Actually everyone said it was a good, classic Chinese name so I gave it to the cops to put on my official documents.

I have to get some business cards with a Chinese name on them. It's easier for the locals just like it's easier for Americans to call someone "Helen" instead of "Xiaominxiang". As such, a good name is important.

I realized something was up about a week later when I was doing a presentation and I told them my Chinese name and the whole group broke out laughing. I asked Sabrina and she said not to worry.

I then told another Chinese guy who lives in America and he told me it was a little odd for an American to be named Si Ma Tang but not to worry because it is a good classic name. Later, I went to a big banquet with 30 people or so and my Chinese buddy had a few beers and started making toasts to me so he could yell out "Si Ma Tang!" as loud as he could. Now I really knew I had a goofy name but I could not figure out just how goofy.

I kept asking people what the deal is with Si Ma Tang but it is like pulling teeth to get a straight answer (at least that I can understand). Either they don't want to hurt my feelings or it is a national conspiracy to keep me in the dark so they can keep laughing at me. Everyone tells me not to worry, it's a good name but then they break out laughing.

I need to get some business cards but I can't have a ridiculous name on there. I told Sabrina that I don't think Si Ma Tang is going to work because people seem to think it is pretty funny. She seemed a little disappointed because it was such a good name for marriage and wealth. She also insisted that it was a good, classic name.

Finally, I went to dinner with some Chinese people and a couple of Americans who have lived in China for several years. I told them my name and they both smirked and then started laughing. It turns out that Si Ma Tang is a very famous family name of emperors or something like that.

I get it now. It would be like if a Chinese guy moved to America and decided to name himself Abraham Lincoln. Both the Americans told me that is about the size of it.

I am the Abraham Lincoln of China.

Duck Blood Soup and KTV

I went to dinner in a fancy restaurant with about 25 co-workers. Dinner was full-on Chinese. I was just calling things “round meat”, “meat with Jell-O/fat” and “meat with bones in it”. I really had no idea what anything was except the fish since you typically get the whole thing on a plate (I’m not sure if you can eat the fins). Also, meals are almost always shared. So, the table I was at had about 10 people spinning the lazy susan to get some round meat, meat with bones, or meat with Jell-O/fat.

Don’t let my description fool you. The food was really good. It was a meat festival. One of my favorites was the spicy soup with meat and vegetables. It had what looked like liver but I did not care since it was spicy. As I was chowing down on the spicy soup, someone from America asked one of our Chinese co-workers what this delicious soup was. She said it was Duck Blood soup. I guess the liver things were actually congealed duck blood. That would also explain the dark red color of the broth.

Of course, the westerners at the table flipped out. The best part is when the Chinese guys can’t figure out what the big deal is. I have to admit I do not know what the health consequences of throwing down a bunch of duck blood are so I slowed down my consumption.

After Duck Blood soup, everybody wanted to walk across the way to do some karaoke (they call it KTV in China). I have never had any desire to do karaoke; ever.

I ended up doing 2 solo numbers and a lot of backup vocals. I was not even close to drunk; I was just hanging out with Chinese and Japanese people. In America, we think of karaoke as maybe a drunken cry for attention. In Asia, these guys do not need alcohol or a low self-esteem, they just need a microphone. They love it. We entered the place and got a sweet private room. It had a huge flat screen to play the videos and computers to choose your song. Mood lighting was at our fingertips along with leather couches and a call button for snacks and beer and water.

I am not saying that I will ever ask anyone to go find a karaoke joint when I get home, but I will say that as a pastime in Asia, it is not too bad if you hang with the right people.

I am pretty easy going. I like to try new things. I never thought I would ever throw down Duck Blood soup and top it off with a karaoke session (and enjoy both). This excursion to Shanghai is definitely challenging my comfort zone.