Grading the Government

In a one-party system it's really important to know what the benchmarks are for promotion among government officials.

For instance, I'd really like to know more about this little tidbit from the government's own English language paper on grading party officials not just on how they improve GDP (one of the current standards for success in the communist party), but on how they meet environmental goals as well.

Interesting, if true, and if not, a wasted opportunity for the people at the top to really set new priorities.

Up In Smoke

China is a country of smokers.

China is also a country of counterfeiters. So this amazing article from Slate should come as no surprise. The only thing wrong with it, from my perspective, is that I didn't write it.

Go to any bar or restaurant in Shanghai and outside you'll find vendors hawking cigarettes, inside they'll probably sell them to you from behind the bar, and it's pretty much legal to smoke said cigarettes anywhere you want.

In my office, for instance, there's a clique of about five or seven smokers who enjoy their cigarettes everywhere from the elevator bay to the bathroom.

There are, in fact, ash trays in the stalls.

In All Seriousness

This is no laughing matter.

Forced happiness must say something about a country, but I'm not sure what.

Going Continental

Well, in the three months since the first post on this blog I've seen amazing things... settled into work... gone on a few benders - and recovered from them.

I've moved from the 17th floor of the corporate apartment to the second floor of a modest but very nice lane house on a beautiful tree lined street in what was once known as the French Concession.

The apartment is about the size of my old place in New York, except it has a fake fireplace, wood floors, better ceiling fans and is sort of a split level, in a strange way.

My co-workers all say that I live on a great block, and there are at least two cafes that are excellent for stopping in and reading a book, although I haven't done much of that yet.

But I promised the story of the flight... it was a doozy.

I arrived at the gate with my bags on my shoulder, weighed down with a dozen books that could have been two dozen. Anxious to just settle into a seat at the gate and take a nap before the flight, I looked for a few minutes to find a seat, but couldn't because the entire gate area had been turned into a set for a cheap knock-off version of Crouchng Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

There were plate-spinners, battling dancing dragons, drummers, and assorted performers of different stripes, representing ancient Chinese culture, and free champagne and fruit representing the best of modern American airport luxury.

The reason for all of this hoopla? It was the inaugural flight between Newark and Shanghai.

Truly a momentous occasion, when all this tired would-be traveller wanted was a seat to collapse into and some time to steady my nerves before leaving my adopted home for the past ten years.

But everyone loves a good party, and the champagne did help calm my jittery nerves. Pictures (poor pictures) will come at some point to illustrate the monumental kitsch of the occasion, but for now, I'm sorry but the text will have to suffice.

Speaking of airports... Evan Oznos has a great post in the New Yorker on the meeting of First and Third Worlds when the travelling class gets disgorged in different cities around the world.

Morning Lands

You get off the plane groggy and overtired from lack of sleep and despite everything you've heard about the bustle of Shanghai, the crowds of China, and the general throng of humanity there, the gate at which you disembark is eerily quiet. 

There is no one in the reception area, or wandering the corridors coming in from other flights, or immigration; not a single passenger from any other flight, just the several hundred souls who made the same 14 hour trip as you. 

Welcome to China. Expect the unexpected. Or maybe I came on an off day?

After hearing so much about the massive push of humankind that is Shanghai, and China in general, the reality is far more appealing. It is no more crowded than New York and equally as liveable. Why this should come as a surprise,  I don't know. But there are people who led me to believe otherwise. The lack of Mandarin is frustrating and makes life about 8 times as difficult as it should be, but otherwise, Shanghai is a beautiful, special, wonderful city. So far. 

So the days have blended into one another. After arriving on Thursday the 26th, with much pre-flight fanfare (more on that later), and a jarring, jaw-dropping drive through the Pudong into Puxi, I settled into my corporate long-stay apartment in the Luwan neighborhood in what was formerly the French Concession. 

A haven for gangsters in the heyday of the late 19th and early 20th century, the French Concession has become the solace of Shanghai's hip and its expats, all the up-and-comers, and is considered by some more knowledgeable than I to be the south-central heartbeat of the city. 

My apartment itself is an ugly little number of about 35 stories, one of four buildings (i think) in a complex which seems typically Shanghainese. There's a central-ish courtyard and playground area and I think every building (they're all of roughly equal size) comes with a swimming pool and a tennis court. 

Well, as first posts go, I think this was sufficiently scattered. More to come later, including, potentially news of a first story. And the exciting pre-flight extravaganza as I and my fellow passengers experience the inaugural flight for Continental's Newark to Shanghai service. Oh the excitement! Oh the humanity! Oh the kitsch!!!!!!