In case you can’t fully identify the elements of the photo: the little boy has a look of horror mixed with suprise and confusion. The taller one is holding a shush finger up as his other hand seems to move toward the little one’s shoulder. So many jokes, so many comments…
I have no idea what this advertisement is even for, with the letters UEMURA printed below a baby. A quick google search reveals a possibility of Uemura as Shu Uemura, who was a Japanese cosmetics artist and entrepreneur [whose company, bearing the same name, was later bought by L'Oreal]. As the wiki states, “In the process, the Uemura’s company became a cultural force in some circles. Shu Uemura’s eyelash curlers were even mentioned in the 2006 film, The Devil Wears Prada.” Regardless as to what Uemura refers to, a bus paused beside us fully displaying the image below as we sat in a car. I couldn’t help but feel that I had been flashed by a naughty little baby. The bus pulled away and I swear that lewd lad was cackling.
Upon arriving in Shanghai and venturing out to a shopping district, a kind young gentleman said, ‘Sir, watch your bag!’ I, surprised, thanked him as we walked away. Odd but polite and always a good reminder in a city, right? But, I had heard stories of people saying, ‘Watch your wallet!’ and foolish tourists reach for their wallet – immediately letting the pickpocket know where the prize was located. But, you can see my bag, what is the point of telling me to watch my bag?
A full day and more people told me to watch my bag than I have had in my entire life. Coupled with the ever present sign posts to protect your belongings, I thought, ‘Wow, this is the most thoughtful city I think I’ve been in.’ Finally, this all came crashing down. Along with these ‘watch your bags’ there are ever present people with cards who want you to buy what they are pushing – purses, jewelry, and other fine goods. On the second day, I finally understood one of them as they carefully pronounced, ‘Watch or bag?’ and shoved the card toward me.
Hm… ‘or’….. ‘your’….
My brain clicked. All of these warnings and advice! Not one of them had probably said, ‘Watch your bag!’ Each of them had probably said, ‘Watch or bag,’ trying to get me to buy items. The thickly accented English had led me to believe that they were offering friendly advice. Shu Lan laughed as I told her and it made sense. “No wonder they looked so confused as you said thanks and walked away!”
My first stop in China was Nanjing. After arriving, we hustled bustled to Confucius Temple – which is where scholars and officials used to study for public examinations. About all the studying you’ll be doing these days is how to haggle, eat street food, and navigate massive crowds – as the area has been overrun by shopping, street venders, and hawkers. Having been turned into a tourist trap and shopping haven, the ‘Temple’ was less inspiring than hoped. This is also where I got an immediate introduction to the children with split pants. Turns out little children [think under 4 or so] run around with big splits in their crotches in many areas of China – and when they need to do business, they hunker on down and do it wherever they are. Public park or street? OK. Grocery store? That’s OK too [an ETA totally got a picture]. It never stopped making me laugh but sidewalking was definitely full of hazards.
Hustle and bustle was the theme for Nanjing. The streets of China are like computer circuitry – firing automobiles, bicycles, and pedestrians down pathways non-stop. I swore I was going to die in a taxi as he weaved past cars and cyclists. The best description I have heard of traffic in China is that it is a bicycle culture that suddenly got automobiles. Crossing the street [though more dangerous in other places] basically involves a frogger approach, willingness to stand in the center of a street while cars whiz past, and an empty bladder.
My second or third day of Nanjing had me awaken with a cold-like snot factory – a symptom that I would keep thoughout my entire journey of China. Whether I contracted a little virus or if the haze of the cities was to blame – I’m not sure. Since my time was limited, I only saw two more sites – the old city walls of Nanjing and the Nanjing Massacre Memorial. The walls were cool – little beautiful barriers. The Memorial site deserves its own entry…
I stumbled upon this gem while out for dinner. One of the guys came back and said, in a matter of fact tone, “Um, Bryan, you should really check out the bathroom here.” Now, I’ve seen some funky bathrooms in my lifetime – so I felt prepared. I opened the door, which swung open only a few centimeters from the sink, and immediately laughed out loud. I looked at him and said, “I have to try this.” I am a little larger than he is, so I had doubts if I would even fit in the room. Squeezing past the door and employing some skillful gymnastic maneuvers, I found myself in front of the miniature urinal. I quickly realized that both my shoulders were raised and still touching each wall. Turning around to wash my hands involved contortion typically reserved for circuses. Before I embarked on the adventure of exodus, I had to snap a photo.
Unfortunately, this is not new (indeed, this was my best experience) with tiny washrooms. They seem to abound in China and Japan. While in Kyoto, I once entered a room and realized that I could not sit, because my knees were unable to bend without hitting the door. In Tokyo, the washroom at our first hotel gave me similar issues. After climbing into the shower, I suddenly realized I couldn’t turn around in the tiny, but deep, bathtub. As I bumped, stumbled, and cursed (“Stupid tiny country…”), I heard Shu Lan’s rolling laughter from outside the room. As I came out, finding myself immediately in the bedroom standing next to a bed and a wall, I couldn’t help but laugh. I’m not terribly large but Asia often makes me feel like a behemoth – a simple monster of a human. At least it always makes me laugh.
