People have said, "When you go to Hong Kong, you will not want to leave." I now know this to be a true statement. Hong Kong is amazing. I am thrilled to live in Shanghai, but let's do a comparison:
#1. In HK the taxi drivers tell you, in English, to put on your seatbelt. In Shanghai they take your life in their hands, weaving blindly through clouds of smoke spit by trucks.
#2 In HK there are shoe stores for women,
ie a Nine West with size 10s in stock! In Shanghai there is a store, called
Big Foot Big Woman (who wants to shop there!?) serving the expat community because mainland Chinese stores only sell up to size 8. Oh yeah, and
Big Foot Big Woman has recently gone out of business (I am actually lamenting this as tragedy).
#3. In HK there are green spaces, mountains, and BLUE water. Two main parts of the city, Kowloon and Hong Kong, across the bay from each other, are flanked by mountains, water, and trees! A fabulously friendly and easy to maneuver ferry treks you back and forth between the two. On the other hand, Shanghai is mostly concrete. The Chinese characters for "Shang Hai" mean
above the water and yet the only water I see is brown, black and murky. There is nothing green in Shanghai here except the fields at school and the lawns at the Shanghai Racquet Club and Apartments, whose grass is treated by more chemicals than a NYC druggie. (But I am grateful to live here and work here- do not misinterpret this comment!)
#4. In HK someone can get mugged at 1 am (like my ultimate frisbee teammate, Lou) and get their passport and bank cards recovered within the half hour. In Shanghai, someone can get hit by a bus, lay flailing - or dead- in the road and the onlookers swarm the street, blocking traffic flow. Miles away the congested traffic patterns laugh at the police or rescue vehicle desire to arrive at the scene, let alone arrive on time to actually do something.
#5 In HK mountains rise into the sky. In Shanghai, dust, dirt, pollution, smoke, and smog leap into the sky.
#6 In HK everybody speaks ENGLISH! (Once a British colony... always a British colony!) In Shanghai, people have NO idea what you are saying, ever, even if you attempt Chinese. Your tone is never correct-
Zhu-di ,
Zhu-dee,
Ju-dee... whatever, they don't understand! (Again, don't get me wrong- I do not expect the people in ANY country to understand my language, just an observation.)
HOWEVER, in Shanghai, when they say something is golden, they mean it. The
Jin Mao tower , literally means Golden Prosperity building, is the tallest building in China, the fourth tallest building in the world, and home of the world's highest hotel- floors 53-87 host the Grand Hyatt (http://shanghai.grand.hyatt.com/hyatt/hotels/index.jsp). In HK, I stayed in the Chang King Mansions that were anything but mansions. They were also advertised as the Golden Guest House. One look at the photo tells me that I would rather stay in the the Jin Mao than the Golden Guest House, any day! Yeehaw Shanghai!
I do not want to drink this, I protest. Look at it. Would you want to drink the snake wine? There are snakes and small animals floating in that liquid. Like hairless flying squirrels. It got poured. I drank it. We won the tournament. Did I mention it was the only game I missed all year!? The winning cheer, "Franny, Franny, where the fuck is 
Franny!!?" Nina drank it and wanted more. Typical Nina.
shan means mountain. I went with my frisbee friend Kevin. He is my badminton teacher, adventure side kick, and hot pot partner. He and I taxi'd 30 km southwest of home to the "mountain" of Tian Ma to see the leaning tower. Our taxi chauffeur decided to cruise around town a bit and wait for us while we scaled cliffs up to the tower. Actually, we hiked 30 something concrete steps up the hillside, crossed the threshold, and into the sunshine we strolled.
The afternoon commute home follows the same path but I ride closer to Zhudi town's more intriguing options. (note: I live in Shanghai, in the Minhang district, in Zhudi town). Riding home I sometimes stop at the fashionable tailor. He and his wife sew, copy, take in, and produce just about any clothing you can imagine. Usually for a ridiculously low price like $2 to take in a pair of pants. Before going to the Hong Kong ultimate frisbee tournament this weekend I had a long sleeved men's large polo shirt that I needed fitted. I was in a pinch. I brought the shirt at 9am and had it finished by 4pm. Not bad. Oh, and I gave them a loaf of banana bread. The fashionable tailors: like banana bread, work fast, and must know someone who speaks English, because their sign is not only attractive but also grammatically correct- a rarity in China.
7:25. The commute to school starts with me on my bike riding tearfully away from Tito, who is usually perched on the patio railing. Adios! (He understands Spanish). He gets to stay outside until 8:30 when the ayi comes, cleans up, feeds Tito, and closes windows and doors. I ride down the tree-lined street on my bike (brand- Giant, model- Ghengis Khan, features- big front basket!) towards school. At the very dangerous intersection I cross over into the bike lane next to the Chinese restaurant on the corner. Lights mean almost nothing in China. Green means go, orange means go, and so does red most of the time. There are many vehicles to beware of: buses, bikes, motorbikes, motorscooters, electric bikes, tricycle workmen's bikes, taxis, and trucks. People don't usually pull over for emergency vehicles or police cars.... Also, beware of people absentmindedly standing in the biker's lane. Also take notice of vehicles traveling in the bike lane going the opposite direction of what is designated.
