designspark

Feb 2

3 PM

Well, I must say, have just returned from one of the best mornings I’ve had in the recent history of me. My dad ventured out into the big bad world of business today and left me to my own devices. Rather surprisingly, I was up at dawn and out the door by 8 am- camera, hat and list of properly written destinations in tow.

I began by taking on the massive breakfast buffet (once again) at the hotel. A sort of Zen-like single toned music played softly while I ate my fish and eggs and read the Chinese/English newspaper. I learned more about the controversial exchange of weaponry and aviation equipment between the US and Taiwan (angering the Chinese mainland), an incident in the city last week involving a scorned worker mowing over 12 people in his truck and, yes, Beyonce. I was most impacted by the story about the crazed truck driver and started thinking about how many people must die in this city every day. I mean, 20 million plus people, driving lanes fit for toy cars and bicyclists carting 10 times their weight in cargo. It’s frightening. To me.

After brekkie I planned to taxi over to the MOCA museum, which, according to Google, was located in a place called “People’s Park”. My taxi driver pulled to the side of the road and planted the front right tire comfortably up and over the curb. I paid him around 20 RMB and found myself in a bustling metropolis. It looked to be a major shopping and business area - much more developed than the areas we were in yesterday. The street was lined with massive, authoritative buildings, many at least 50 stories, and thousands of people busily passed by me and weaved precariously through moving traffic . I was immediately glued to the viewfinder of my camera and temporarily forgot about seeing the Museum.

The next few hours consisted of walking, snapping pictures and experiencing exhilaration at a compounding rate. I’m sure I was grinning like a sweet little American idiot - fascinated with just about everything I passed by. I made my way to what must be the biggest shopping center in the world (note: author is not an actual shopping center expert, and for that matter, ill-qualified to make almost any factual statement containing the words “in the world”), which consisted of massive buildings and hundreds - thousands - of stores. At one point a woman stopped me to practice her English and ended up asking to take a photo of me. I’m not entirely sure, but I think she kept repeating, “you have a big nose” as if it were some kind of compliment.

In time, I did actually make it to the museum, however, accidentally went to the Shanghai Museum rather than the originally intended destination: MOCA. The entire museum endeavor was mostly futile as MOCA ended up being closed and Shanghai Museum (by name sounding rather impressive) only displayed one exhibit, paintings and pen drawings. The only meaningful thoughts I had strolling past the mundane artwork were inquiries questioning the government’s role in the exhibition of artwork. How closely are these artists regulated and censored? How the hell does that work?

I pushed myself to walk around in the cold drizzle as long as possible and eventually caught a cab back to the hotel. I am continuously astounded with the low cost of cab transport. I mean, I believe that stupid Starbucks green tea latte cost more than most of the taxi rides I have taken.

11 PM

Food log

(1) Breakfast, yet again, at the hotel. Too magnificent to pass up. Today I chose sautéed mushrooms, leaks, olives, grilled fish, egg whites, swiss cheese and pears. I dare any Santa Monica restaurant to come up with something so pleasing.

(2-4) Green Teas. Losing count.

(1) Leftover funky fish bone soup. Might sound questionable but was actually quite good. Saved in hotel refrigerator and warmed up in the tea hotpot. Clever, yes?

(.75) Package of peanut butter/crackers. Shame…

(1) Dinner out consisting of a shared portion of chicken and broccoli, white rice and the best mushroom dish I have ever seen and/or tasted. I just cannot accept that I’ll never have the very same meal again. I may have to go back this week.

Not much to report. An inevitable bout of jetlag sat in after the last entry, ensuing a 1-2 hour nap. My dad was able to come back to the hotel earlier than expected and, (lucky me), took me to dinner. Our energy levels greatly depleted, we decided on walking to nearby restaurant rather than venturing out into the unknown. The decision ended up fairing well as we found a spot that immediately felt like a nice place to be in. The tables, chairs and walls were white while simple, sleek red accents like small lamps and delicate artwork garnished the scene. There were just enough people there- around 40% capacity - and they all seemed to treat the space as a place they had been many times, laughing and speaking casually with the staff. I liked it all very much.

After dinner my dad and I did one last drink at the bar upstairs, catching a less than entertaining Jazz ensemble. While the entirety of the setting was utterly fantastic (red lights, cigar smoke, women sipping red wine and ignoring their dates) the music was totally bad. Strange covers of songs like “What a Wonderful World” and some sort of 80’s catalogue that I am not familiar with. My lovable father leaned over to me and said, “isn’t that singer great?” I simply nodded. We’re in China.