A country of many faces

Today we saw yet another face to China - Zhujiajiao, one of Shanghai’s best preserved historical and cultural towns. Its stone paths, arch bridges, peaceful river and ancient architecture eminates a serenity that is rare and beautiful to behold. Truly, my breath was taken away. I took more than 100 pictures but those cannot come close to capturing the town’s old magic.

As we meandered along, beggars, mostly old women, often wearing toothy smiles will reach out their dirt-crusted hands. Everywhere you look, someone is trying to sell something, often homemade, as part of their livelihood: Food, neat gadgets, grass-woven figurines, sandals, a man rubbing his wet hands against the two handles of a pan full of water to frictionize vibration and cause water to sprinkle. More than one mother or grandmother toted a dimply baby on their hip while making their living.

You try to imagine what life is like for them, constantly being invaded by nosy, bustling tourists clueless to your struggles to put food on the table and keep the baby from crying of hunger, and your heart breaks a little. Your mind is aghast at the sheer contrast between this cozy countryside and grand Shanghai with the impressive architecture and flamboyant lights.

I realized our two weeks in Shanghai and Beijing are but seconds against an eternity of history and to understand China, this can only be the beginning.

A line of open windows along the street, much like the way these people have opened their doors and their lives to those coming to sightsee their livelihood

Many people sat atop stone walls or in-between cracks, notebooks open and pencils in hand, to sketch the beautiful scenery

An oasis of plush green in the middle of a man-made lake, surrounded by tall towers, captures the stark contrast of China's past and present

e-Waste Update

Ted Land reports on the electronic waste situation in Taizhou, China.

Tracking down migrant workers...

It has been an eventful few days here in Shanghai and my story has made exciting progress…
My plan to stalk migrant workers on their construction site started bright and early Friday morning. I had an entourage to accompany me: my translators, Jessie and Sophie, and John Paul, with video camera in tow. At the first construction site right next to our hotel, we walked right in the gates and were immediately stopped by men guarding the door… and after some discussion between the guards and my translators, we had to leave.
The next few attempts at interviews did not fare any better. We began asking questions to a worker who was giving passionate answers until his boss came up and told him to stop talking to us. Another time, we tried to do a walking interview with a worker… Note for future reference: trying to record interviews at a brisk walk doesn’t work that well. Most of the other interviews were ruined by nosy bystanders. Since we were on the street, people passing by felt the need to stop and listen to the interviews which embarrassed and thus immediately silenced the workers. 
Feeling a little discouraged, we walked around looking for more sites and anxiously scanned the streets for men wearing orange helmets. We stumbled upon another site, peeked in and saw workers washing their hands so we waited at the doors for them to come out. This is where I met Mr. Liao.
Mr. Liao let us walk with him along the street as he headed home for lunch. One of the men from the site who presumably was a manager of sorts followed us on the walk. At each stop light, the usual crowd gathered. I knew no one was ever going to open up with so many people around or a manager creeping around so I asked if Liao would meet with me the next day. He said we could meet him at the same time the next day for his lunch break…
Saturday rolled around – Yes, migrant workers work on Saturday and Sunday and every other day of the week for that matter – and Sophie and I went back to the site hoping to catch Liao on his way to lunch. Luckily, we caught him on his way home, a home that is ONE room no larger than a dorm room that he has lived in for three years, a home with six sets of bunk beds and at least 8 other roommates that I met there. In an hour lunch break, I was able to get the tiniest glimpse into the life of a migrant worker in Shanghai. I learned so much from Liao; I feel so humbled that he welcomed me into his home and candidly discussed his feelings on living in Shanghai, being a migrant worker and the difficulties of being separated from his family. If you want to know more, you’ll have to wait for my story…

Zhujiajao's Temple

Lauren, Liz and I got the opportunity to visit a Buddhist temple in Zhujiajao today. Prayer ribbons are draped on the trees outside the temple, with the year the prayer request was made written on the ribbon. We took lots of pictures inside the temple, and were even the subject of a few photos taken by the temple caretakers. I got my palm read and left my name on a tiny red sheet. The caretaker promised me good luck, and that my name would remain within the temple for one year. I really enjoyed Zhujiajao. Seeing rural China, no matter how touristy it might have seemed, made me thankful for all the opportunities our group has on this trip. We’re seeing things that very few will ever get to see. In this photo, a woman was being wheeled into the temple by her family in order to pray. The family spent close to a half an hour lighting incense, bowing to Buddha, and chanting.

The Trip to Zhujiajiao

Some of us ventured outside of Shanghai for the first time since our arrival in China last week.  Sunday, we took a 45 minute bus trip west of Shanghai to a small river village called Zhujiajiao.  Our tour guide said it was about 60 km from Shanghai.  For the first time, many of us saw what rural China was like.  Zhoujiajiao is definitely not a big city like Shanghai.  At the same time, it was quite touristy as hundreds of visitors wandered through the narrow streets, little shops and walked on the bridges over the river and canals.  We all rode in Chinese boats on the canals and a few of us even ate eel during our lunch there.