shangHAI WAY TO HEAVENly kingdom
For nearly nine months, I dutifully 9-to-5'ed it day-in and day-out. I worked these bones, through backache and bunions, to win my bread and butter - chomped at the bit for rosy-cheeked babes - slaved away, you could say, for the sake of educations, for fighting ignorance, for feeding my coke habit.
And what did I get?! What did I deserve!?!
A damned vacation, that's what! But don't misread me here. Work is still a delight. Angels, just as sweet as pie, really. But there's always - and I'd put my pension on the line here - ALWAYS a frightful few who could drive a man to drink! Example: just last week I was about two seconds from smacking one snobling who wouldn't stop checking the back o' her eye sockets. And if the huffy-puffy too-cool-for-school routine wasn't enough to push my buttons, Lil' Miss Prepubescent Princess, get this, actually duh'ed me.... YES, DUH'ED....ME!!
As in, “Gosh, Mr Cody, blahdy blah blah! DUH!!”
Sure, this chick cops 'tude like a one-season teen wonder on the WB, but oh did she make the hit-list that fateful be-verb review!
Still, folks, when a seasoned gay man starts counting 11-year old girls as his mortal enemies, it's time for a breather. A bit of shakin'-up to stay fresh. A much needed WHAM-BAM adventure to recharge the battery. And who, honestly, would be more apt at helping Cody get his groove back, than a best bud from back in the college day..... Kristen!! aka this one: kneenee!!!
Now to start, as you all know, I've spent the better part of two years calling Japan, the ex-expansionistic-imperial-empire-turned-peaceful-democracy-and-leader-in-underaged-schoolgirl-porn, home. And Kristen, as some of you know, has spent the same amount of time calling China, the ex-aforementioned's-whipping-bitch-turned-oppressive-communistic-regime-turned-pseudo-communistic-up-and-coming-superpower-and-motherland-of-all-you-can-eat-pupu-platters, home, too. Our respective neighbors may harbor murderous hatred for each other, but with Kristen and I, it's all love!
Besides, visiting Kristen was surely a major reason for going, an awesome added bonus. But also, I've always had a deep interest in ancient Chinese culture and history.... especially the life and culinary lore of tactical mastermind, General Tso....
Oooh, good thesis!
So thus, with much caution in the wind, and most plans left to chance (how Bohemian!) I booked a flight to the Middle Country and began brushing up on my Mandarin. But forget the “hello”'s and “how are you”'s.... while questing across China I'd need more hardcore colloquialisms.
“Mmmm, a side of dog would really hit the spot.”
“Pardon, but I'm feeling a bit under the weather. Do you by chance have any thousand year old sea turtle testicles?”
And, “Excuse me, officer, but I seem to have lost my pancreas.”
Really, the girl may be my other half, but one needs a hearty liquor limit and a lot of traveler's insurance when Kristen plays tour guide!
Even so, when the day came, I left without looking back, and headed west for the land of wantons, Wang Chung, and all the weapons-grade plutonium Pakistan can buy.... to China, and the Heavenly Kingdom's crown jewels, the pearl of Asia, Shanghai City..... um, well, more exactly (and much less romantically) to Pu Dong Airport.
Forgive my inner child for finding that name funny!
While I'd heard this place brought up ad nauseum in every Lou Dobbs Report and New York Times editorial from here to eternity, the reality of China's growth, it's momentous change, and drive for wealth and a better future never really hit home until I saw the tall towers of this town on the Bund. And I remember thinking: funny, the first thing one notices when visiting a foreign country is not so much every strange new site before one's wide-open eyes. But rather, one suddenly recalls the old things at home, long made invisible by routine and habit, now glaringly clear in contrast.
Make sense?! Well, let's delve....being a teacher, I love me some good metaphors!
If Tokyo was a color, it'd be gray.... like the silvery iridescence of fat fish underbellies, the oily sheen of a pigeon's breast. Shear, shiny, cold and steely blue. When up close and personal with Tokyo, its alleyways and the great avenues of Ginza and Shibuya pulse frenetically with a billion rainbow eye-catchers. But from a distance, these nooks are lost in a vast grid of blinking white luminance. A blanket of hard diamond snowfall.
On the flip side, though, Shanghai is like seeing through jaundiced eyes on a sunny day. Blame the smog, but the whole of it feels awash in an orange, amber glow. Despite the skyline soaring to a dizzying height, and the urban stretches that spreads in every direction, it all comes down to atmosphere: a heavy soup, warm and close like carrot-colored stew. Sure, steel is still king, but Shanghai has the sunsets and sandstone hues of lower latitudes.
And that's not all! When talking sweets, then Tokyo's the pound cake: a conservative man's guilty pleasure, stolidly planted at the center his plate. So dense and compact, one would not only need a fork, knife and fair amount of elbow grease, but also a hot cup of coffee with a shot of kahlua just to get through its layers.
Whereas Shanghai, but contrast, is more akin to fancy French meringues: fluffy-rich and rising high with decadent dollops of creams. But quick, suck up this sugary goodness and risk a heart attack. Or else, let it sit too long, and you begin to fear.... maybe, the shady restaurant manager hiding in back really DID skimp on a few key ingredients, and the whole thing might suddenly deflate, melting into one big gooey mess.
Then finally, a favorite topic of mine. If Tokyo's a runway-ruling fashion model, then Dolce and Gabbana cry “It's a Hit!” But even babies and butterflies can't crack his chiseled face out of that scowl and into a smile. Black-clad, walking tall and fast, he knows he's hot.... and totally opposite of bright and bouncing Shanghai. Like America's Next Top Model, this chica struts her stuff unscathed through Tyra's gauntlet. And with the taste of new success still on her tongue, she admires her frilly lil' ensemble: a low, sexy Western cut, yet still in the appropriately patriotic color I call "Wow Mao Magenta".
So, alas, I leave you with my first impressions. I fear, again, that I've made many generalizations, and in the end, what do I really know?! Sure, I paint pictures of Tokyo as cold and hard, but to be fair, there are exceptions to the rule. Exceptions that make my time here worth it. The same goes for Shanghai, as well.... the exceptions to its exotic excitement and giddy rise in the world are all too apparent just beyond its borders. When traveling by train to Kristen's house in nearby Nanjing City, much of the view is blocked by rows of trees that hide a darker reality. Caught in glimpses, the countryside often is bleak: industrial factories puking their pollution out of every hole, huge, hulking abandoned buildings, standing like concrete skeletons. And everywhere, the sprawling communities of slaves whose back this empire's being built upon.
......
Yay! Happy Ending!!
But fear not, in the next chapter of Chinaland, hilarity ensues. Here's a brief glimpse:
I was in Nanjing, when all of a sudden....
....on my back, covered in lube....
....he disdainfully threw the kleenex at me....
....pulling my pants down when....
.....“Twenty dollars?!?” I cried.....
....Kristen laughed a lot.....
Oh, and here's a purty picture!
Oriental Pearl Tower, known as The Pearls of Asia.... or as we prefer, The ANAL BEADS of Asia!
And what did I get?! What did I deserve!?!
A damned vacation, that's what! But don't misread me here. Work is still a delight. Angels, just as sweet as pie, really. But there's always - and I'd put my pension on the line here - ALWAYS a frightful few who could drive a man to drink! Example: just last week I was about two seconds from smacking one snobling who wouldn't stop checking the back o' her eye sockets. And if the huffy-puffy too-cool-for-school routine wasn't enough to push my buttons, Lil' Miss Prepubescent Princess, get this, actually duh'ed me.... YES, DUH'ED....ME!!
As in, “Gosh, Mr Cody, blahdy blah blah! DUH!!”
Sure, this chick cops 'tude like a one-season teen wonder on the WB, but oh did she make the hit-list that fateful be-verb review!
Still, folks, when a seasoned gay man starts counting 11-year old girls as his mortal enemies, it's time for a breather. A bit of shakin'-up to stay fresh. A much needed WHAM-BAM adventure to recharge the battery. And who, honestly, would be more apt at helping Cody get his groove back, than a best bud from back in the college day..... Kristen!! aka this one: kneenee!!!
Now to start, as you all know, I've spent the better part of two years calling Japan, the ex-expansionistic-imperial-empire-turned-peaceful-democracy-and-leader-in-underaged-schoolgirl-porn, home. And Kristen, as some of you know, has spent the same amount of time calling China, the ex-aforementioned's-whipping-bitch-turned-oppressive-communistic-regime-turned-pseudo-communistic-up-and-coming-superpower-and-motherland-of-all-you-can-eat-pupu-platters, home, too. Our respective neighbors may harbor murderous hatred for each other, but with Kristen and I, it's all love!
Besides, visiting Kristen was surely a major reason for going, an awesome added bonus. But also, I've always had a deep interest in ancient Chinese culture and history.... especially the life and culinary lore of tactical mastermind, General Tso....
Oooh, good thesis!
So thus, with much caution in the wind, and most plans left to chance (how Bohemian!) I booked a flight to the Middle Country and began brushing up on my Mandarin. But forget the “hello”'s and “how are you”'s.... while questing across China I'd need more hardcore colloquialisms.
“Mmmm, a side of dog would really hit the spot.”
“Pardon, but I'm feeling a bit under the weather. Do you by chance have any thousand year old sea turtle testicles?”
And, “Excuse me, officer, but I seem to have lost my pancreas.”
Really, the girl may be my other half, but one needs a hearty liquor limit and a lot of traveler's insurance when Kristen plays tour guide!
Even so, when the day came, I left without looking back, and headed west for the land of wantons, Wang Chung, and all the weapons-grade plutonium Pakistan can buy.... to China, and the Heavenly Kingdom's crown jewels, the pearl of Asia, Shanghai City..... um, well, more exactly (and much less romantically) to Pu Dong Airport.
Forgive my inner child for finding that name funny!
While I'd heard this place brought up ad nauseum in every Lou Dobbs Report and New York Times editorial from here to eternity, the reality of China's growth, it's momentous change, and drive for wealth and a better future never really hit home until I saw the tall towers of this town on the Bund. And I remember thinking: funny, the first thing one notices when visiting a foreign country is not so much every strange new site before one's wide-open eyes. But rather, one suddenly recalls the old things at home, long made invisible by routine and habit, now glaringly clear in contrast.
Make sense?! Well, let's delve....being a teacher, I love me some good metaphors!
If Tokyo was a color, it'd be gray.... like the silvery iridescence of fat fish underbellies, the oily sheen of a pigeon's breast. Shear, shiny, cold and steely blue. When up close and personal with Tokyo, its alleyways and the great avenues of Ginza and Shibuya pulse frenetically with a billion rainbow eye-catchers. But from a distance, these nooks are lost in a vast grid of blinking white luminance. A blanket of hard diamond snowfall.
On the flip side, though, Shanghai is like seeing through jaundiced eyes on a sunny day. Blame the smog, but the whole of it feels awash in an orange, amber glow. Despite the skyline soaring to a dizzying height, and the urban stretches that spreads in every direction, it all comes down to atmosphere: a heavy soup, warm and close like carrot-colored stew. Sure, steel is still king, but Shanghai has the sunsets and sandstone hues of lower latitudes.
And that's not all! When talking sweets, then Tokyo's the pound cake: a conservative man's guilty pleasure, stolidly planted at the center his plate. So dense and compact, one would not only need a fork, knife and fair amount of elbow grease, but also a hot cup of coffee with a shot of kahlua just to get through its layers.
Whereas Shanghai, but contrast, is more akin to fancy French meringues: fluffy-rich and rising high with decadent dollops of creams. But quick, suck up this sugary goodness and risk a heart attack. Or else, let it sit too long, and you begin to fear.... maybe, the shady restaurant manager hiding in back really DID skimp on a few key ingredients, and the whole thing might suddenly deflate, melting into one big gooey mess.
Then finally, a favorite topic of mine. If Tokyo's a runway-ruling fashion model, then Dolce and Gabbana cry “It's a Hit!” But even babies and butterflies can't crack his chiseled face out of that scowl and into a smile. Black-clad, walking tall and fast, he knows he's hot.... and totally opposite of bright and bouncing Shanghai. Like America's Next Top Model, this chica struts her stuff unscathed through Tyra's gauntlet. And with the taste of new success still on her tongue, she admires her frilly lil' ensemble: a low, sexy Western cut, yet still in the appropriately patriotic color I call "Wow Mao Magenta".
So, alas, I leave you with my first impressions. I fear, again, that I've made many generalizations, and in the end, what do I really know?! Sure, I paint pictures of Tokyo as cold and hard, but to be fair, there are exceptions to the rule. Exceptions that make my time here worth it. The same goes for Shanghai, as well.... the exceptions to its exotic excitement and giddy rise in the world are all too apparent just beyond its borders. When traveling by train to Kristen's house in nearby Nanjing City, much of the view is blocked by rows of trees that hide a darker reality. Caught in glimpses, the countryside often is bleak: industrial factories puking their pollution out of every hole, huge, hulking abandoned buildings, standing like concrete skeletons. And everywhere, the sprawling communities of slaves whose back this empire's being built upon.
......
Yay! Happy Ending!!
But fear not, in the next chapter of Chinaland, hilarity ensues. Here's a brief glimpse:
I was in Nanjing, when all of a sudden....
....on my back, covered in lube....
....he disdainfully threw the kleenex at me....
....pulling my pants down when....
.....“Twenty dollars?!?” I cried.....
....Kristen laughed a lot.....
Oh, and here's a purty picture!
Oriental Pearl Tower, known as The Pearls of Asia.... or as we prefer, The ANAL BEADS of Asia!