Before the trip, I was very excited to see Suzhou, the supposed "Venice of the East". We didn't spend a great deal of time there, unfortunately, and it did not exactly match my expectations. If you Google image search Suzhou - a thing you cannot do if you live in China, by the way - you see all these fanciful images of canals and vaguely Asian architecture that couple together to form a wistful fantasy world that wasn't really what I experienced. Maybe that's because it was so hot.
We checked out of the Shanghai hotel that morning, since we'd be staying the night in Wuxi, even though we'd be back at the Shanghai airport the next day to fly to Beijing. Originally we were supposed to take a train overnight to Beijing, but some scheduling conflicts got thrown on us last minute and the plans had to be changed. Ah well. Anyway, Suzhou was intended to simply be a morning side-trip on our way to Wuxi, where the real action was happening.
We got off the bus in Suzhou probably around 9 in the morning and it was already sweltering. I have never sweat as much as I did during our brief stroll by the canal.
We crossed the bridge over the canal:
To this little plaza area:
We then walked up onto the city wall to this place:
And this place, a little temple/garden type area:
And that was pretty much it for Suzhou. You see why I was a little underwhelmed. Would have also been nice without the oppressive heat. Y'know.
Throughout the trip, many of us - especially when in a big group - had the experience of being gawked at, since a few dozen (mostly) white people in a pack seems to be a rare sight in China, especially outside of major cities. A lot of us had been asked for pictures by locals, and on my way out of Suzhou I received my first such request too. Paige and I posed in turn with each one of a handful of Chinese schoolchildren - probably between 13 and 16 years old, if I had to guess - which was perfect timing, as my shirt had never been more drenched in sweat. So, they got my good side.
Next, we went to a shop that sells pearls and also extracts them from oysters. They took us into a room and had us all guess how many pearls would be inside a randomly selected oyster, then opened 'er up:
And I was one of the people whose guess was closest! So I won this:
Hot diggity.
Then, as always, we were set loose to shop:
We also had the chance to buy peaches just outside:
Then lunch, then Wuxi. On the busride there, Sheldon took the mic instead of Alex and held this sort of mock-quiz show of China-US diplomatic history, with cash prizes! Sheldon kept doing this thing where he'd ask an obscure little question about something that happened in the early 1970s, berate us for not guessing, and then when we guessed incorrectly, he'd yell "NO!!! NO!!!" as if we'd just spilled chardonnay on his brand new white carpet. At one point, someone near the front of the bus guessed something correctly, and he exclaimed "YES!! HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT?!" and I'm like, Sheldon, dude, DO YOU EXPECT US TO KNOW THESE THINGS OR NOT??
I did get a couple question right, though. Earned myself 40 Chollars.
I happened to snap a picture of this place on the drive in:
...which turned out to be our concert hall for that night. We got checked in at the hotel:
You'll notice in that last picture that the shower has a window in it. This was also true at the Shanghai hotel. I have no idea why this is part of the design practices of southeastern Chinese hotels, but it needs to stop. I solved the problem by putting the non-slip suction-cup floor mat onto the part of the glass that wasn't frosted. That worked well enough.
The view from the hotel room:
We then made our way back to the aforementioned concert hall to warm up and rehearse a bit. We didn't realize other groups were also rehearsing at the same time:
It was a pretty neat concert hall, though.
Dinner was not so great; they took us back to the staff workroom, which was unbearably hot, and fed us these styrofoam boxes of rice, vegetables, and a chunk of mystery meat, and nothing to drink. Not the best idea right before we're set to perform. It actually turned out to not be the worst thought through meal of the week, though, surprisingly.
The concert for that night was setup, from what I could tell, specifically for us and for our visit. There were, I think, six community choirs from Wuxi, each of whom did about two pieces, then there was an intermission, then our 45-minute set. They would announce the names of the groups before they came on to sing, and they kept using the term "elderly choir", to distinguish them from children's choirs, which I found amusing. A few of us were having trouble staying awake through the first half, having been worn down by a long day, not to mention that the initial trip adrenaline had long worn off by that point. Still, the concert went over well, and the audience seemed very receptive.
A few shots of outside the concert hall at night:
And that was it for Wuxi. I know of many of my friends who have been to Shanghai and Beijing - especially the latter, due to the 2008 Olympics - but I don't know of anyone who has been to Wuxi, or who ever will. And that's not meant as a humblebrag. I am trying, on these trips especially, to always be cognizant of moments that are rare, either from my cultural vantage point or at all. The spinning on stage back in Chattanooga was certainly one of those, but singing for community chorus after community chorus in Wuxi, China has to be another. There is a good chance that for the rest of my life, at any given moment, I will be the only person in the room who can say they've been to this city, much less this concert hall. And that's interesting to me.
But more, I think, on this later.
On the first morning after China, I awoke to find myself in a bad state. I couldn't tell if I was sick or only jetlagged, but the effects would have been comparable all the same. Technically, I didn't awake in the morning at all. A solid twelve hours of sleep had placed me well past noon. On my first drive in two weeks, I noticed the construction on 3rd street was finally done. At Starbucks, they were out of my first two food choices, but to be fair, I was ordering breakfast food at 1:30 PM. Back at my apartment, I had only the energy to put my still-sweaty clothes through the wash while I wore the only clean article of clothing I could find: a sky-blue silk bathrobe, fresh from its cellophane packaging. And as I did all this, nearly three-fourths of my closest friends were in the midst of a 36-hour day of their own, jetting steadily through the air somewhere over the Pacific.
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Just under two weeks earlier, I found myself at the Louisville airport at quarter of four in the morning, waiting for the slowest bag checker on Earth to put our luggage into the system and onto the conveyor belt to our various planes. I had been anticipating this trip for months. When a trip to Cuba fell through, Dr. Hatteberg looked vigilantly for a replacement summer trip for the Cardinal Singers, and nothing was seeming just right. A trip to the Baltic States was considered, but the timing wasn't so great - September is not the best month for a summer trip. Finally, back in March, the Goldilocks tour came through: the China International Choral Festival was looking for featured choirs to perform at evening concerts throughout its run, and a travel company in China was attempting to locate choirs that would fit the bill. We submitted materials within hours of receiving that email, and we were the only American choir selected. Not only that, but being a "featured" group, the Chinese government would be footing the bill. Perfect. We would accept.
I have heard the horror stories of what Dr. Hatteberg went through to get our visas, but even though the final two were procured a mere 24 hours before our planes were to leave, they indeed all came through in time for our trip. For various reasons, our choir was split into two for the flight over: the beginning of the alphabet flew via Newark, and the last 10 people - including myself - went through O'Hare. The overseas flight was about 13 hours, and on our plane, there weren't those individual screens on each seat, so we watched whatever movies they selected for the whole plane, which was a little aggravating, but I am aware that making a big stink over this would be the height of first world problems. Oddly, the flight didn't seem to take that long, and this despite getting only an hour or two of sleep.
Here's the small group selfie from O'Hare:
Meeting up with the rest of the group was effortlessly easy too, as we simply met them in baggage claim without a hassle. I was surprised. I figured we'd get separated and have to search high and low, but there they were, as if we'd barely parted ways at all. With bags collected and a few hundred Yuan (A.K.A. China Dollars, A.K.A. Chollars) in each pocket, we set out to our bus into the city.
First shots of China:
We met our tour guide, Alex, and the head of the company coordinating our stay in China, Sheldon Poon. Sheldon's company is Music Celebrations International, whose purpose, I believe, is to get foreign musical groups into China and be their tour guides. While the Chinese government themselves were sponsoring our stay in Beijing, this first leg of the trip, as well as, I think, the touring and sightseeing we did in Beijing, were at our expense and done through this company.
First glimpse of the Shanghai skyline from a bridge:
And a proper shot:
And also a bull mooning the camera.
We were let off the bus for the first time on this big street that felt very New York-ish. We were given about an hour to explore before dinner. The street:
Went down a little alley to a convenience store and bought water:
Oh yeah, that's one of the things about China: you can't drink the tap water. Even in the fancy hotels we were staying in, the policy is boil before drinking. Bottled water was frequently available though, so I didn't go thirsty.
As we walked down the alley, a lady outside a restaurant walked up to Ethan and shoved a menu in his face. He ignored it and kept walking. As I was turned around to observe this, and man grabbed my arm as he walked by, and when I turned to face him, gave me a creepy grin and continued on. We'd been warned about pickpockets by our guide, and I remained vigilant about my belongings. Nothing ever got taken, but there was a persistent feeling that it easily could be.
As we left the fancy street area, I saw an ad for what I can only assume is the Chinese Justin Bieber:
There's knock-offs of everything!
Dinner was at this nice place:
And looked like this:
That's how nearly every meal was: family style at a table of ten with a lazy Susan and liter bottles of Coke and Sprite. Occasionally there was hot tea, and very seldom was there water. I didn't really choose my food the whole time we were there; we'd show up at the restaurant, they'd begin bringing out dishes, and I'd begin my picking of them. I never really felt like I had a full meal while I was in China, just a series of glorified sampler platters.
Here's Nathaniel and Chu:
And here's an exceptionally blurry photo of the hotel we stayed at in Shanghai:
This is what our room looked like:
And this is what the view out the window looked like:
Here's the same view the next morning at sunrise - sunrise being, by the way, at 5 AM:
I couldn't figure out why the daylight hours were so different from Louisville. Yes, the latitude is different, but not that much so, and it was roughly the same number of hours, just shifted earlier - the sun rose at about 5 and set at about 6 or 7. I hypothesized that it was due to China's having only one time zone country-wide, but that time zone is aligned with Beijing, so it's the western areas that are on odd hours, not the eastern. Still not really sure. But as jetlagged as we all were, rising at 5 felt like the most natural thing in the world anyway, so no harm done.
The architecture of Shanghai blew me away. Those monolithic structures you see in the above photos just continue forever in every direction. The poor air quality, and thus the haze, does help to complete the effect, but it isn't necessary. As we drove from the airport, and later on as we drove away from the city, these high-rises continued to dot the landscape for miles. According to Alex, there are more than 4000 of these 18-or-more-story buildings in Shanghai alone. You think New York is big, but New York is compact - in Shanghai there's space, and they make good use of it.
Our first activity the next morning, and thus our first performance in China, was at the Children's Palace, which I am pretty sure is some sort of elementary school, possible a boarding school:
We sang in what I assume is their choir room:
Pretty small. But we were singing just for them, and they for us - and many parents were there too, of course. So it made sense.
Here's them:
We did a set, then they did a set, then we did another set. Then, after it was over, the two groups sang a bit more, out of the stands and in a group more or less mixed together on the floor. Then the director announced that the kids had gifts for us, so a bunch of the students ran up to individuals from our group to hand us some trinket or knickknack. A young boy gave me an ornate cloth bag, which I thanked him for, then proceeded to open, figuring the gift would be inside. I was confused when I pulled out a wad of cotton. The boy then took the bag back, wordlessly stuffed the cotton inside again, pulled it shut, and put it back in my hand. Oh: the bag is the gift. Okay. Thank you!
It was precious. I kind of wish that had been later in our trip so I would have had the other (bigger) concerts to compare it to, but it was still great. Cultural exchange at its finest.
We changed out of concert black and headed to lunch after that, which was held on a boat restaurant:
And then back on the bus to be taken to our next destination, a silk factory named TianHou. Some shots of the city on our way there:
I also tried to capture some of the not-so-pristine areas of Shanghai:
More on the state of things in China later.
After the tour and demonstrations we were, of course, allowed to shop in their store. The first area they put us in had like bedding and sheets and whatnot, and I figured, okay, I'll get something made from silk in China, so I went sensible and bought a silk pillow. Not too expensive, and they air-compress it for you so it's easy to pack. Great. Good. Souvenir.
Then they took us into another area, one with clothes:
And so of course I had to shop some more. Well, I didn't have to, really, most of the stuff there didn't interest me. Until I saw it: a beautiful silk bathrobe dyed a shiny, compelling sky-blue, with patches of white like clouds and little stereotypical Chinese characters - that is both letters and people - decorating it from top to bottom. Yes it was a women's bathrobe; I didn't care. It was perfect. I had to have it. Then I saw the price: 600 yuan. Having already dropped a fair bit on the pillow, I felt like another hundred-or-so bucks was just a bridge to far. So I turned away from the bathrobe and continued wandering around the store. But I was beset with constant fantasies of myself wearing that bathrobe in my apartment back home, on a warm summer morning, glass of bourbon in hand. I imagined myself reading the paper on my front porch in it, despite having neither a porch nor a newspaper subscription. I had to have it. But I couldn't justify spending that much!
Then, I realized I had looked at the wrong price tag, and it was really 300-some yuan, about $60 all told. No more deliberation. I bought it.
Satisfied with my purchase, I returned with the rest of the group to the bus, where we were whisked to our next destination: a bazaar.
Here, the law of the land was haggling. We were given an hour to run amok and shop, as if we hadn't had enough opportunity to lose our money at the silk place. But it was interesting to walk around at least, and some haggling did indeed get done.
The group I was with was approached by a lady in the street who told us she had the best deals on silk anywhere and that we should come with her. Now, we had been warned not to follow people who grabbed us outside of stores, but for whatever reason - the winds of fate, let's say - we decided to do exactly that. She led us into a department store, then up a back escalator into a cloistered little area that you probably wouldn't otherwise notice.
Reed, eager to try out his haggling skills, and also keenly interested in a silk robe, began to barter the woman down from her starting price of 675 yuan. When Erin also got involved, the deal got even better. Eventually, they walked away with two robes for 550. Total.
And that's not even the best the haggling got in China. I got on board later and let me tell you, that stuff is exhilarating.
Next, we went on a river cruise to see the skyline properly as the hazy sun set.
Beautiful. I wish I hadn't been so worn out at that point, but still, it was quite a moment.
Finally, dinner. Again, a similar setup:
I tried capturing a bit of the city at night. Most of the pictures are too blurry or too obscured by reflections in bus windows, but a few turned out alright:
And that was that for Shanghai; we left for the next city the following morning. Our stay in Shanghai was relatively short, but feels incredibly brief in hindsight, especially compared to Beijing. I've never seen a city quite like it, and I don't expect to anywhere else, except for maybe Tokyo, if I had to guess. That's not a spoiler that I'm going to Tokyo by the way. Just the only other city I can think of that might possibly be as gigantic and expansive as Shanghai. If I ever go, we'll see.
