We Say Farewell to Shanghai, But Not to Our Memories

We've been back home in Minnesota for several days now, so we should wrap up this blog.  Perhaps we're just mostly back; our sleeping schedules are still a little out of touch with the local clocks, and part of us is still at times in Shanghai.  Fortunately our early days back have featured cool temperatures, blue skies, billowing white clouds, and a few late Juneberries to pick in our backyard.

On our way to Shanghai we had a layover in Seattle.  At our boarding gate there was a large painted window high above us, perhaps 20 feet wide.  I took it to depict a couple happily cuddling, while dreaming of rivers and skies and stars and adventures to come.  And we did find adventures in Shanghai, some small, others larger, with friendly and helpful local people.  We often ate well, enjoyed wandering down new streets, and learned more about the ways of life in the (very) big city.  And more of the changes in Chinese life in the past generation or so.

Of course, a key part of Barbara's experience was spent with local people who were taking her class (she's the one in pink in the photo to the left).  This added to her teaching experiences in Hong Kong and Guangzhou last year, and to her understanding of the ways in which Chinese folks experience emotion and movement in ways she's found are different than the American students she works with in the Twin Cities.  I (Bruce) enjoyed brief chats and greetings with her students when I would meet her at her dance studio at the end of her (long) teaching day (around 6:00/6:30), but of course didn't get to know them as Barbara did.

On the other hand, my free time while Barbara was in class allowed me to explore Shanghai, often pleasantly surprised with what I might stumble upon.  One day I stopped in at the Shanghai Confucian Temple, which is the only one in the city which historically combined a temple in honor of the teacher/philosopher with an actual school.  The photo to the right is the statue which honors Confucius; there were no pillows on which to kneel by those who come to pray or worship (as for example in Buddhist temples), nor offerings, and I wasn't clear whether Confucius is sometimes worshipped or primarily venerated.  But, as a retired professor, I liked the idea of honoring someone regarded as a great teacher and philosopher.

At the temple I spent about an hour learning from a current university senior, doing a sort of work-study or internship by teaching visitors to the temple about tea.  There's an art and a ceremonial aspect to tea-drinking, including the way in which the tea (drunk in very small cups) changes flavor and aroma as each successive amount of hot water is added to the tea leaves or flowers (one might add water as many as eight times, whereas in the U.S. I usually assume that using a tea bag more than twice would be pointless).

Part of the connection with Confucius is that tea is also medicinal, and my young teacher explained which particular benefits tea provides as one reaches different ages--30, 40, 50, and so on.  At times, at a particular age, a person might need a boost for their digestive functions; at other times, for their energy; at still others for their thinking, or their sexual desire.  There's a special mix of teas for each decade, which evidently tops out at 70 (perhaps another reason why museum discounts in China begin at 70 rather than, say, 65?).  My teacher, it turned out, was studying to be a Mandarin-Spanish translator, and so we were actually able to exchange a few words in Spanish as well as English, to our mutual surprise.  An enjoyable experience (in part, probably, because I do still miss my own students).

A broad theme in our time in Shanghai was the ways in which the city (but also the country as a whole) has changed so dramatically in the past several generations.  We could see this in the Shanghai History Museum (located, perhaps ironically, underneath the very modern Oriental Pearl tower in Pudong).  Part of the story told there has to do with the political and economic changes which, particularly in Shanghai, were brought as part of the semi-colonial presence of the French, Germans, British, and Americans beginning in the middle of the 19th century.

But we could also see evidence of change in gender and family patterns.  For example, the photo to the right is of a traditional (but particularly elaborate) wedding chair in which a bride would be carried to her ceremony.  This one, for a more wealthy family, took ten years to put together, and illustrates hopes for a hundred sons to be born as a result of the marriage--a little unrealistic, surely, but important in dramatically illustrating the purpose of marriage, and the importance of having sons in a more male-oriented society.  Echoes of this desire for sons would later shape the outcome of China's "one-child" policy (adopted in 1979, and only recently lifted), when families limited to having only one son or daughter would, by various means (including sex-selective abortion once modern ultrasounds were available), do what they could to be sure that that one child was a boy.  Today, there are probably over 30 million boys and younger men who will not have a woman to marry, something of concern to Chinese authorities as well as to the men.

In the photo on the left, we see another history museum exhibit, recreating a shoe store window on the Bund (the main shopping area) in the early 20th century.  The slippers or shoes above show the fine handwork and embroidery desired for women's shoes (for women not doing heavy labor), but we also see two small, pointed pairs of shoes for women with "bound feet."  Girls whose feet had been (painfully) broken and kept small with tight wrappings and small  shoes were believed to be more beautiful, more desirable, and easier to arrange a good marriage for.  This practice was in fact already dying out by the early 20th century, but this (and other customs like the possibility of child marriage, and concubinage) were part of what attracted women's support for social change, one "plank" of Mao's platform for communist revolution and transformation ("women hold up half the sky").  Today, at least for educated urban women, the possibilities for women's lives have changed dramatically in the early 21st century--even though men still dominate most of the political decision-making at the higher levels.  Some of those young women (and young men) now do their college work outside China, including many American colleges and universities (including the one from which I recently retired).

Alongside changes in family life and gender roles, other changes have been at least as momentous: China has become a predominantly urban society in recent years, a dramatic change in just a few generations from a society which was largely rural, small-town, and agricultural until the late 20th century.  Related to this, China has lifted a strikingly large share of its population out of the poverty from which they suffered within living memory.  The comparison in both these areas with India is notable: both societies now have roughly 1.3 billion pople (India a bit less), but India still has a majority rural population and a large part of its people who are still impoverished and malnourished.  On the other hand, a third big change in China has been that income inequality has been growing rapidly, with a relatively small percentage of the population enjoying most of the new wealth that's been created (not so different than in the U.S. in the past two generations).

One of the ways in which rural migration to the cities, population growth, and income inequality in China were evident when I wandered around areas where older housing was being torn down, likely to be replaced by huge blocks of high-rise apartment housing, most of which is too expensive for those who've been displaced to rent or buy (urban renewal and gentrification on a large scale!).  In this photo we see older housing which is being torn down; the bit of ragged blue design just to the left of center is a child's quilt that had been attached to the wall, now exposed after the outer walls were torn down.

I sometimes wondered who has benefitted from the large-scale social and economic changes China has experienced, and who has borne most of the cost.  Will those who are displaced from village life find real lives in the cities, or like many first-generation immigrants to the U.S. have to justify their sacrifices by the new advantages the city may provide for their children?  Who is able to shop in the very fancy malls and plazas, and who is likely to bus the tables after shoppers have left?  These are Chinese examples of larger patterns and challenges social change leaves us all to ponder: who most benefitted from the industrial revolution, and who most paid the price for it?  Who will most pay the price for the global warming we are already experiencing, growing out of the use of the fossil fuels on which that revolution was based?  I sometimes felt critical of China's policies, including the ecological damage their rapid economic growth has created for China's land, water, and air--yet also worry about parallel issues in our own society.

In the photo to the left, we are standing in front of the large statue of Chairman Mao on the campus of East China Normal University.  We had stayed at ECNU with St. Olaf students on the 5-month "Term in Asia" program in 2004-2005, and wanted to see if it was as we remembered.  By coincidence, that afternoon the graduation ceremonies were being held for ECNU students, so we saw many young women and men pulling on their red and black graduation robes, while proud parents and grandparents posed for photos.

In many ways, it's hard to characterize what sort of society China is today.  Mao's image looms over things, and China is  officially communist and a one-party state.  Yet in many ways it seems like a market society, with an emphasis on innovation and manufacturing for export, and for those with money an emphasis on consumption and lifestyle.  Young people who have the opportunity work hard to get an education (and this year's students, who had just taken the national exams to determine whether and where they might go to university, were anxiously awaiting the results while we were there).  Those few we talked with seemed to be making plans for their future with much of the same hope (and anxiety) we might see in the U.S.  It's a complex situation.

On our last night we went downtown and had supper at a popular cafe featuring Shanghainese dishes, several of which we hadn't tried before.  And then we headed outside into the stream of people headed to the Bund, to see the lights come on, on both sides of the river.  We looked across the water to Pudong along with the crowds (the tower on the left is the Oriental Pearl tower, under which sits the Shanghai History Museum: has the future buried the past?).  And we end this blog with this vision of a contemporary (even futuristic) life promised by the bright lights.

Barbara and Bruce, July 4, 2016

Dance, movement and other arts in Shanghai- from Barbara

From what we have observed, the arts have an important role in the lives of people in Shanghai.  While  people seem to work intensly long and hard during the week, on the weekends many relax.  Recreation seems to often consist of gathering in one of Shanghai's many large parks to move, sing, play or paint together.  Sundays in particular are a delightful time to wander and see families enjoying nature and expression with music or movement, with what seems like a zillion other residents of the city.

I remember this from previous visits to other cities in China- parks seem to provide more than just green, quiet space, but also a place to nurture more aesthetic  practices.  Our first weekend, as we stumbled through a 'smallish' local park, we saw groups of older women dancing jazzy line dances together (I found out later that they are often called the 'dancing grannies' since the groups are often make up of  older women - with a few men), trying to do the steps on the edge of the group. These 'grannies' are a tough, no-nonsense group of women, survivors of the Great Famine and Cultural Revolution.  During weekdays they are often barreling down the streets or sidewalks like mini-mack trucks, depending on where the bikes and motorcycles are parked and where the trash piles are that day.  On weekdays walking feels like a competion for space.  Defering to let someone else through is never an option..or perhaps even a moral deficit.

Anyway on this weekend they danced line dances together and were a delight to see. Wearing colorful pants and tops, they moved in unison to western music, helping each other learn steps or arm movements together. Despite the unison movement, there is not alot of eye contact or interactions among the partiipants. Skill doesn't seem to matter either, only rhythmically moving with others. At the same park, and right next to these lovely grannies, was a group of older men practicing some type martial arts form, or playing Chinese cards or Go, and on the other side a changing group of musicians. (Older men entered and left this musical group of mainly wind and reed instruments, but they were always enthusiastically led by another man acting as a conductor. This man seemed to be transported by the sounds they were making as well as enjoying leading others in its creation.)

Our last Sunday in Shanghai, we made our way to Zhongshan Park, a larger park on the western side of the city to walk and enjoy the multitudes of Shanghaians out in what might have been the only blue-sky day of our visit. (Bruce says there were a few more clear days, but I was probably inside teaching.)  We walked and wandered through this large green park, each corner seemingly filled with a different group sharing together in a different art expression.  Near the entrance was a large group of men and women dancing a partnered-two step type dance (to Chinese sounding music). There seemed to be two 'teams' one wearing red shirts, sequins and hats and the other wearing dark green shirts. The groups danced side by side, each in their own space. Around the edges older women stood, watching and energetically tapping their toes to the rhythm.


Nearby a single man calmly did T'ai Chi with focused intensity, completely oblivious to the crowds moving by. Next to him groups of men and a few young women were practicing a more active martial arts form with lots of hand gestures, kicks and quick turns. Next to them was a group of young men moving as partners in a form that I had learned as 'push hands'. (Push hands is an improvised movement form with physical contact and circular movements. The point of the form is to stay centered and not lose your balance while trying to upset your partner.)  All of this happend next to walking paths as other people walked or ran by, and occasionally paused to observe the movement forms.

In another shaded location a woman sang, what sounded like an emotional operatic song into a microphone while being accompanied by several musicians playing traditional Chinese instruments. She was urged on by another woman who seemed to be inhaling the music and words of the song.

At another location, a huge group was dancing to a clapping line dance, hitting their knees, shoulders and hands together in rhythmic unison. The group was so large that it lined the walking path for yards.  People walking through this dancing gauntlet were also joining in with the rhythmic clapping as they moved through.



Further into the park, a large group of young and old practiced more T'ai Chi together, all wearing white or pastel colored 'pyjama' pants and tops. Their rhythmic movements were contrasted by others in a nearby large field who were playing football/soccer and flying huge fierce kites (right next to a sign saying "no kite flying"- in English!)

These collective practices seem to be reflected in my experience with my students in my classes. Whenever we moved together, I was struck by their enthusiasm and the deep pleasure they all seemed to feel moving expressively together. Unlike many of my students in the U.S., they move and interact in ways that reflect their inner experiences and also connect with each other.  I can't help but think that what I observed in my classes was nurtured by these other more pervasive cultural weekend practices. I also continue to appreciate the easy access to metaphor and beauty that are reflected in my students' words and responses.

Finally, there was a solitary man who painted water brush poems on the sidewalk (in Chinese and English), beautifully done.  People walked by, sometimes pausing to read what he wrote.  Later the poem would disappear, as the water evaporated in the warmth of the day. I have no idea if the poem was an original creation of the moment or a traditional one, but his intensity and focus was beautiful to feel.

Another few words about museums, of which there are many- usually filled with as many or more Chinese as foreigners. In addition to the normal art and cultural expressions museums (which are extensive and wonderful), we visited the Propaganda Poster Museum. A small hole-in-the-wall museum in the basement of an apartment complex (no photos were allowed, you will need to visit it yourself.) This museum contained old large political posters and what seemed to be a zillion 'Mao busts'. They also had early posters of 'Shanghai Calendar Girls' from the 1920's. It was interesting to contrast the very exoticized, pin-curled and made up women, lounging in semi-sexual positions (can you say 'Western sexualized gaze'?) to the clear-eyed, strong square-bodied women of the 'new Communist China dream' (1950's and 60's).  It was also fun to see posters of Communist officials; often there was the same poster that had been reprinted to eliminate or add in some official who was either newly in the ruling body or disgracefully kicked out.


Here's a final picture, of the romantic idealization of Chinese village peasant life. While I am not sure I would like to have been around for the horrors perpetrated by the Chinese Communist government, compared with the crowded, noisy, hectic street life that is Shanghai...the country looks pretty idyllic.
Bye for now; if you read this we would love to hear your thoughts.  Barbara