The underbelly

The city was drenched in a pallet of pastels and grays
when I started my daily run along Ao Men road and Suzhou creek. The streets of
Shanghai appear bland as most colors eventually fade in the sun or become
soiled by fumes. The smog smears a film of haze across the sky. Under the
bridge I find the regular drug addict, this morning with a bloody needle in his
hand, waiting for the shot to kick in. When I return some twenty minutes later
he has dozed off to some faraway destination. The man doesn’t seem too scared
about being caught and facing severe punishment, as China is not at all keen on
drugs. I cross the restaurant my friend and I intended to go to the other
night, only to find ourselves heading straight for the door, repelled by the
sight of live ducks in a cage inside. Hypocritical, surely.

Just before I enter my flat again, I look at the
‘massage salon’, right across the street. Supposedly, the hospitality does not
end with a massage and the blue and red neon lights should give away some of
its true nature. The other night some of the masseuses were being transported
to another ‘massage salon’ or someone with a sore knee, let’s say. Their driver
being a very slick and dodgy type, actually inspected one of the girls in the
neck, lifting her hair the way you would lift a horse’s foot. In the van and
off they went.

Supposedly there is a lot of prostitution in Shanghai,
yet more subtle than your average red light district, taking place in the
backrooms of karaoke bars and hairdressers. The girls in the industry look
harsh, talking loud. Not at all the childish elves most women pose to be as
they dangle on the arm of their stern looking men. Even though the cultural
revolution declared equal rights for both men and women, most Chinese women
find themselves in the ‘female’ positions in society, one of which of course
being at home with the child. Rarely management or the more influential
positions. Luckily this situation is, just like the city itself, undergoing a
transformation. Old institutions are slowly giving way to new high-rises with a
broader view.

How many are able to enjoy that view, I don’t know. Following
the standard path of anyone abroad, my outlook on the city has been taking a
dip over the last couple of days, going straight down to the underbelly I
suppose. After the first weeks being full of impressions, time is now slightly
slowing down and becoming omnipresent. Giving me the opportunity to take a
closer look. Online research is hard, as the internet runs slow and much
information is being scanned reportedly by 130,000 employees in government. Foreign
information is thoroughly filtered before surpassing the Great Firewall of
China (or the bamboo curtain, as some put it kindly). This doesn’t hinder the
Chinese from being online however, even though social interaction can only take
place within the safe net of the country’s borders. Facebook is RenRen or
Kaixin001, Twitter is Fanfou and YouTube is Youku. Sharing information, meeting
new people: all under the watchful eye of Chinese government and the websites’
very rich Chinese founders.

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