David: Romeo, Building 173, and Spitting

As you may know, I love to see a good play or movie, so when we were looking through a magazine here called City Weekend (it's in English, caters to expats, comes out twice a month, and lists what is happening all over town) we noticed that a few plays were running, and a locally made documentary. The documentary was called Building 173, and featured the inhabitants of a historic 1930 apartment building in the heart of Shanghai.The ad said the film "collects little known stories from seven characters, opening a window onto the dramatic social changes across three generations". Best of all, it was in English! Sounded good to us! It was showing at a place called Vienna Cafe, (click on the link if you'd like to take a peek at the cafe) located on a charming street in a nice neighborhood a few miles from our apartment. Inside it was "European Cozy", and the staff and menu were very English friendly. The owner, Shing, was Chinese but spoke perfect English. We sat down and ordered a cheese sandwich and a delicious plum tart, and waited for the crowd to arrive and settle in. (The crowd was about half Chinese, half non-Chinese.) I didn't really know what to expect, but let me say that from the second the film started, we were captivated. It was so professionally and creatively done, and when the 50 minute film was over...I just wanted more. You can read about the film and see a trailer by clicking here, and hopefully it will come to a film festival in your area. It is also showing on some PBS stations in England right now, so it may eventually come to US public TV. After the film, the director got up and answered questions--really great questions from the audience, I might add. He was a young, unkempt Swedish guy, and it was co-directed (and funded) by a British, female ex-journalist (not present) that lived in Building 173, and decided to make a documentary about it. The producer was also there, a young, handsome and smiling Chinese guy that spoke perfect English. He personally knocked on every door of Building 173 to find the seven characters to interview for this film! All these filmmakers have "day jobs", so this was done on weekends over the past year, all for the love of it....For Allan and I, this little movie gave us a rich context with which to understand not only Shanghai, but China and it's communist history. Fascinating. We'd both love to see it again.


The choices for plays were Romeo & Juliet, or Waiting for Godot. When we discovered that the theater showcasing Romeo & Juliet, The Shanghai Dramatic Arts Center (photos of the Arts center are below), was literally around the corner from our apartment, it seemed like a good sign that we should see that. (Plus Romeo & Juliet is one of my favorite movies. My sisters took me to see it when I was about 6, and I was so smitten with this movie, I bought a poster of Olivia Hussey and Leonard Whiting, and hung it above my bed. Oh the drama...it started so young with me.) We were able to buy tickets at the theater using sign language, and luckily the play would be performed in English with Chinese subtitles. On the night of the play, I put on my only collared shirt, trying to look a bit cultured. I expected to see an audience full of refined Chinese people, but to our surprise, the audience was 85% white teenagers. Do they live here, all several hundred of them? Was it some kind of tour group? I have never felt so old and creepy watching Romeo & Juliet with a bunch of teenagers. The play was performed by a popular British touring group called TNT, and I found the acting to be quite excellent. My old friend Logan told me that if you can understand Shakespeare, the actors are good. If you can't, they're not good. I could understand every word, and since this was my first time seeing the play version, I discovered that the movie left a lot out! However, the set was....well, lets just say I've seen better sets in Jr High School productions! One thing stands out about the play: When Romeo went to the Friar, and the Friar agreed to marry R&J, Romeo was so overcome with joy that he kissed the Friar on the lips, and skipped happily out the door. To me, it perfectly displayed the level of his happiness and excitement, and had not an ounce of sexuality to it. But to the teenagers in the audience, it was as if they had just witnessed Armageddon. Their sounds of sickening displeasure surprised me, and it made me realize (once again) just how much people really don't like homosexuality. I thought we were gaining acceptance among the youth, but it appears that I am wrong, at least based on this crowd. Their agony at the site of such a platonic kiss went on for what seemed like a solid minute. Sigh.


Which brings me to the subject of spitting. During the Olympics, I had read that the Chinese government was trying to educate their people to refrain from spitting in public. This seemed rather curious to me, but once I arrived in Shanghai, low and behold there were a few signs around town that said No Spitting. It didn't take long before I saw several Chinese disobeying this command--one day in particular, an older Chinese woman crossed the street towards me, looked me right in the eye, and then she spat to the side of where I was standing. Now normally, this would have caused my insecurities to flare, and Allan would have had to spend the next hour convincing me that she really wasn't spitting at me, just near me. But since I understood this cultural phenomenon, I was totally okay with her spitting, and was just grateful that she had good enough aim to miss my shoes.
Well, after breathing the air in Shanghai for 2 days, I was suddenly overcome with this intense desire to spit, so I also disobeyed the law, coughed up a day of grime, and spit it into the gutter. Allan, the perfect gentleman, kept a blind eye, and continued walking as if nothing had happened. But a few days after that, even our dear, refined, ultra conservative Allan....oh gosh, can I really type this? (Good thing he's in Beijing, and can't edit what I type!)......He actually...........just a minute, I have to find a more appropriate word............Allan expectorated. Of course he did it "Allan style": quietly, privately, behind a bush where no one could see, and I could not photograph it.
So what the media fails to tell you is that you have to spit in China. Otherwise, where is all that gunk you've been collecting in your throat all day going to go? Do they expect you to swallow it? Now that is far more disgusting than two guys kissing. But what do I know...

While I'm on this subject of Chinese idiosyncrasies, we'd like to know why some guy on a bike (with a flat bed attached) cycles around the neighborhood throughout the day ringing a bell. It's really annoying at 6:30 in the morning. Allan and I think he's the recycle man because the only thing he ever has in his flat bed is recyclable items like cardboard. So what are we supposed to do? Grab our paper and plastic bottles and run out on the street like he's the Ice Cream Man when we hear him coming? There's also another guy that rides around on a bike with a basket in front. This basket contains a loud speaker that has a recording playing out of it, and it says the same thing in Chinese over and over and over again. I believe I have it memorized by now, and I have a feeling it's propaganda. It may even be an old talk of Mao's. Wish I knew. Drives me crazy. Goes on all day.
But speaking of bikes, I am SO IMPRESSED by the Asian people and how they get around at any age. In China and in Japan, people of all ages ride bikes. I mean grandmothers and grandfathers are out there braving the streets every day. (Stop for a moment and picture your grandmother or grandfather--or yourself if you are a grandmother or grandfather--riding a bike through town. Gosh, I'm not a grandfather, and I can't even picture myself doing that!) Old people do everything here. Everyday I see old people--some that can barely walk--trudging their groceries home. And a few of them look like they could easily beat me in an arm wrestle. And I'm talking about the old ladies. They're tough, I tell you. No sitting home watching As the World Turns for them!

And finally, to end this endless post, I have totally enjoyed reading all the English t-shirts that so many of the people wear in China. I mean, English is written on about every t-shirt I see. But the funny thing is, it's often misspelled. The other day, I saw a t-shirt that said, "No Paint, No Gain". I'm not even sure why anyone would want to wear a t-shirt that said that, but I'm sure she thought it said, "No Pain, No Gain". Wish I could remember more of them, cause they are really funny...but I can't. Many words are spelled like they sound, so if I reed the xirt a few time, I can finary undersand what it try to say. And before you accuse me of being mean, I'll have you know that when I've tried to speak Chinese, I either get confused looks of What?! or when I walk away, they laugh and laugh and laugh at me....It's all part of being a stranger in a strange land. You gotta love it, and laugh.

P.S. I'm feeling much better today, since I finally got some sleep last night. I even went for a walk, and had lunch at Wu Guan Tang. But oh, the loud sounds of the city....not yet ready to take those on...I was worn out and had a headache when I got home.
I talked to Allan this morning, and he is having a great time in Beijing! Blogs to come!