Siege of Shanghai

Everyone will tell you that Asia is an assault on the senses – endless varieties of sights, smells and sounds.  I am not going to refute that.  No sir.  Particularly not that last one.  I said PARTICULALRY NOT THAT LAST ONE.  Sorry, with me at the moment it’s like talking to my father.  He has tinnitus – a form of industrial deafness that results in constant ringing in the ears.  Like when you go to bed after having been to a Jennifer Lopez concert (a long story) and all you can hear is that constant ringing buzz inside your head.  I now know how he feels.

Seems so peaceful from up here.

It starts with Hong Kong, which is certainly not known for being a quiet getaway.  The city has a constant white noise background that is simply the result of masses of people, traffic and construction all within close proximity.  From a distance it sounds like the rumble of an ocean, just nowhere near as relaxing.  But up close you can really cop an earful of it.  Like when you’re sitting outside at a Soho bar and an unimpressed driver (likely a taxi) stuck in a jam doesn’t just punch out a few beeps of the horn, but holds it down for a good ten seconds.  That will teach them – not only will the other drivers know not to mess with said honker, but so will all the surrounding pedestrians, and my fellow unsuspecting bar-flies, who have had to add a ten second pause to their conversations. They may know not to mess with the honker, but the honker still sits in traffic.  So it all seems a little pointless really.  But that does not discourage the practice, nor the contribution to the noise pollution.

If you’re lucky like me, you can also benefit from an earful of sensory overload complete from the comfort of your own home!  The assault on the senses is way more effective with a jackhammer.  Hong Kong apartment owners love a good renovation – and a renovation in a concrete apartment block means weeks of happy jackhammering.  It seems that jackhammers can be used for basically anything in a Hong Kong renovation; bringing down walls, pulling up tiles, opening beers…there is never a time that a jackhammer isn’t appropriate.  Early in the morning, late in the evening and on weekends, even after the project manager has told you that no work will occur on weekends.  Apparently jackhammers are the tool of choice for a quiet weekend.  Just when you think it’s over, that teeth clenching, head-splitting reverberation starts chattering through the walls, and you start searching for the nearest happy hour.  If it’s a really special day, the jackhammer soloist will be joined by the neighbouring pole driver from the new high rise development, for a complete migraine inducing, ground shaking symphony.

We may not be able to see you in there, but there’s no hiding that jackhammer…

So to escape from the racket we decided to take a trip to Shanghai, stay in a nice hotel and relax.  During Chinese New Year.  We’re not very bright as it turns out.  Maybe the jackhammering loosened a few brain cells.  More likely it was the tequila shots that seem to becoming a staple part of my diet.  To be fair, we were warned that it was pretty intense in most major Chinese cities during the New Year celebrations as everyone goes a little firework crazy.  But it still didn’t prepare us for the complete bombardment that faced us on New Year’s Eve.  With the Shanghianese armed to the teeth with fireworks freely bought from street stalls, they began to let them off – initially in a restrained fashion…like teasers…but then in wave after wave of thunderous explosions that one could only compare to a warzone, if one had been to a warzone.

Not wanting to feel left out, one of my travelling companions was well keen to get amongst the firework lighting action.  His partner was not so enthused as she was understandably concerned about her boyfriend returning to Hong Kong with all of his digits. Understandable again that she didn’t see the funny side of our “it’s all fun and games until someone…” jokes.  I’m not sure how many people do lose eyes, fingers or entire limbs letting off home cooked fireworks over Chinese New Year, but in a country with this big a population it must run into the millions.  Nonetheless, male travel companion wore his partner down over three days and eventually got his wish.  And let’s be honest – it was bloody good fun.  The only sustained injury was to my already fragile hearing.  By this stage letting off a ‘double happiness’ cracker sounded to me like someone stepping on bubble wrap.

But like my father I have embraced the selective hearing diagnosis.  I hear remarkably well when offers of food or drink are being yelled…but can barely catch a word when it relates to cleaning.  WHAT…YOU WANT ME TO WASH SOME BITCHES?

Well…I suppose…if they’re dirty.

Almost Famous

“Excuse me sir.”

“Yes, hello.”

“You look like someone famous. A movie star.”

“Really?”

I’ll pause the dialogue at this point.  Firstly to explain that I’m positive I don’t look like anyone famous.  But let’s not kid ourselves, it’s flattering if someone tells you that.  Flattering enough that you want to continue the conversation just to find out which dashing movie star you might resemble.  In all truth I would have preferred to be likened to a rock star.  I’ve always harboured a secret desire to be the lead singer of a rock band – someone who could smash out a decent power ballad to a moshing crowd, but be just as at home wooing the ladies with soothing acoustic tones.

So cool…to be able to do two things at once. Imagine.

You know, someone like Chris Cornell or Dallas Green – people who don’t need to be able to play an instrument, but can just because they’re cool and can do anything – people who can drink a bottle of whiskey and still remember all the words to a song.  The only song I can remember the words to after a few beers is “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses.  And that isn’t very helpful at karaoke – I can’t sing and even if I could, I’m not cool enough to pull it off.  But I digress.

It was my first trip to Shanghai.  We’d arrived late and had decided to have a quiet drink at the hotel bar before turning in.  One of the Chinese bar staff had cornered me to kindly point out;

“Yes, you look like that famous American actor.  The one in lots of action movies.”

“Brad Pitt? I get that a lot.” I don’t, but I was enjoying myself.

“No, no – he does lots of fighting action movies. Ahh I know, it’s Jason Statham!  I thought you were him, you look just like him.  I think you would do very well with the ladies!”

“Oh…really?”

This isn’t me…although the body is close.

I didn’t have the heart to correct him on Jason Statham’s nationality, nor on that fact that I look nothing like him and have an Australian accent.  The only thing being close to a likeness with his comparison was that I hadn’t shaved for a few days and that I did well with the ladies (in my younger days).  Just kidding…I’d actually shaved that morning.

It’s nothing new that Asians think that westerners all look alike.  But with a fascination of western films and the increased ease of access to these movies, every westerner suddenly becomes a possible celebrity.  Particularly in more remote cities that don’t see many waiguoren.  Friends of ours were telling us recently of their visit to a Chinese city where they had been mistaken for a famous couple.  Being one of few foreigners in the city, they had already received their fair share of attention during their stay, but on one particular ferry trip things got a bit out of hand.  The local Chinese on the ferry had begun crowding around them and things were getting heated as people started to push and shove each other out of the way to gain access to take photographs.  It being the middle of winter, our friends were rugged up to combat the cold with heavy jackets, scarves and hats.  They also had sunglasses on – the large fashionable type.  Worriedly they asked their Chinese host why things were so manic on the ferry with all of the attention.  Highly embarrassed, their host explained that people thought they were Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes!

Help us out a bit here Tom…keep your hat on mate.

Scenes from the Mission Impossible movie had been shot in Shanghai and it was known that the celebrity couple had been in the country.  Our friends got a bit of a giggle out of it and decided to stay behind the hats and sunglasses – mercifully for the local crowd because without his hat, the Tom Cat fraud is actually completely bald!  The revealing of the unlikeliness to Tom Cruise may have caused a riot.

As I recently sat in the open plan of a Hong Kong office, a Chinese employee approached and handed me a piece of paper.

“Excuse me, are you him?”

…And this isn’t me either.

It was the picture of Neil Patrick Harris I’ve attached to the left.  Admittedly I was in a suit…but that’s where similarities end.  Consider how alike Jason Statham and Neil Patrick Harris are and you’ll get the picture of how broad the celebrity comparisons can be.  So I’m wondering how this could work in my favour…to live out the rock star fantasy.  If the Chinese aren’t too worried about the details of how close westerners actually resemble a celebrity, then maybe they won’t be too worried about how poorly I sing.  Surely I could just jump on stage at some club and imagine being adored by the crowd as I thrashed out a few unharmonious numbers before the bouncers got me.  I did once dance on stage in front of about a hundred people in Beijing.  It was after a belly dancer had called me up to join her. I was a hit with the Chinese men in the crowd.  Or was it the bikini-clad dancer?  Whatever – rock on China!