Puerto Rican in Casablanca
People here in Shanghai say things like “Shanghai is the Hong Kong of 10 years ago” the way that InStyle magazine says this or that is always the “new black.” Such a contrite and tidy little sentence doesn’t do the remarkable growth of this city (and this entire country, for that matter) the necessary justice. Indeed, there is an apparent rush of people from Hong Kong looking to land a successful business venture here in the “New Hong Kong,” which ironically was once the “New Shanghai.” I hope that people never refer to me as “The New Eric” unless they’re talking about my kid, whom I never intend to name Eric, which would make my previous condition completely useless.
But seriously folks, there is a tremendous amount of entrepreneurial spirit here for those who can afford to think about things above and beyond survival. My relatives from Shenzhen, who were born and raised in Shanghai, returned this past weekend to visit and I had a chance to talk with them a bit the past couple of days. They were eager and glad to impart their wisdom on life in China and Shanghai on me, and I was equally happy to receive it. Our talks, excuse me, their lectures revolved completely around the idea of making money. How to dress to impress clients, the proper etiquette at the dinner table when dining with business partners, the way to speak to underlings to reinforce your authority; the evening was a veritable all-you-can-digest of how to maintain an air of financial success in order to success financially. There was never any question why I was there in Shanghai: pursuit of wealth. My aunt, a self-made businesswoman and speculator, didn’t seem to understand the concept of non-monetary happiness. When I mentioned to her that I was always interested in filmmaking and screenwriting, she told me that people who write soap operas make a lot of money. When we visited my great-grandfather’s gravesite and I was told to make a wish in the presence of his tomb, she told me to wish for over 50,000RMB ($6000 US) a month. When I told her that I needed to go to the bathroom, she told me that I should get a job at the Shanghai Stock Exchange instead.
It all comes down to money here: those who have it, those who don’t, and those who think they can make it really quick by selling bootlegged copies of “The Hot Chick.”
My dad had this piece of wisdom for me. “If you live in Shanghai and live like the Shanghai-nese, then it will be very inexpensive for you. If you want to live in Shanghai and live like an American, then it will be very very expensive.”
So I asked him: “So, what if I wanted to live in Morocco and live like a Puerto Rican?” I swore I heard that he said I was being a “smart lass,” but that’s funny because I’m more of a lad than a lass, although I’m beginning to question that myself with all the “Sex and the City” I’ve been watching. By the way, Stanford Blatch has got to be the best character on the show. Who else can say “Judgy Wudgy was a bear” and get away with it? I tried saying that to the Chinese lady selling $10 Louis Vutton bags, but she just stared back at me blankly and said “You’re an arse.” I heard that one pretty clearly.
So I went to a dinner party last night. Alice had decided to make chili and invited a few of us over to help her:
a) make the chili
b) make other dishes
c) eat the chili and the other dishes
Somehow, Judy and I were the only ones the ended up in groups A and B, where I promptly fucked up the buffalo wings by using two sticks of butter for every 2 tablespoons of Tabasco sauce. Apparently, it’s the other way around. So we ended up with delicious chili and some really buttery-ass chicken wings. It didn’t matter, because with the amount of wine that I was drinking, I could have been eating linoleum and thought it was filet mignon. The great thing for me here in Shanghai is that I no longer am the only guy that turns red after some alcohol. In a sea of Chinese people who are all missing that mysterious enzyme that keeps other folks from turning red, it’s easy to understand why they call this place Red China.
Well, I’m meeting cool people, learning about the culture, seeing new things, and definitely doing a lot of drinking and overall partying. So what’s next? I have to start studying for the LSATs, since they’re only two months away (the difference between ‘3 months away’ and ‘2 months away’ is unbelievably tangible). I have to start making some money: this prostituting myself thing is just not working. Apparently, and this is complete news to me, there are A LOT of young Chinese guys out there to be had. Damn, and I came here to be special! I’ll just have to go to Plan B and differentiate myself from everyone else by starting my own buffalo wing shack here. Oh damn, wait a minute…
But seriously folks, there is a tremendous amount of entrepreneurial spirit here for those who can afford to think about things above and beyond survival. My relatives from Shenzhen, who were born and raised in Shanghai, returned this past weekend to visit and I had a chance to talk with them a bit the past couple of days. They were eager and glad to impart their wisdom on life in China and Shanghai on me, and I was equally happy to receive it. Our talks, excuse me, their lectures revolved completely around the idea of making money. How to dress to impress clients, the proper etiquette at the dinner table when dining with business partners, the way to speak to underlings to reinforce your authority; the evening was a veritable all-you-can-digest of how to maintain an air of financial success in order to success financially. There was never any question why I was there in Shanghai: pursuit of wealth. My aunt, a self-made businesswoman and speculator, didn’t seem to understand the concept of non-monetary happiness. When I mentioned to her that I was always interested in filmmaking and screenwriting, she told me that people who write soap operas make a lot of money. When we visited my great-grandfather’s gravesite and I was told to make a wish in the presence of his tomb, she told me to wish for over 50,000RMB ($6000 US) a month. When I told her that I needed to go to the bathroom, she told me that I should get a job at the Shanghai Stock Exchange instead.
It all comes down to money here: those who have it, those who don’t, and those who think they can make it really quick by selling bootlegged copies of “The Hot Chick.”
My dad had this piece of wisdom for me. “If you live in Shanghai and live like the Shanghai-nese, then it will be very inexpensive for you. If you want to live in Shanghai and live like an American, then it will be very very expensive.”
So I asked him: “So, what if I wanted to live in Morocco and live like a Puerto Rican?” I swore I heard that he said I was being a “smart lass,” but that’s funny because I’m more of a lad than a lass, although I’m beginning to question that myself with all the “Sex and the City” I’ve been watching. By the way, Stanford Blatch has got to be the best character on the show. Who else can say “Judgy Wudgy was a bear” and get away with it? I tried saying that to the Chinese lady selling $10 Louis Vutton bags, but she just stared back at me blankly and said “You’re an arse.” I heard that one pretty clearly.
So I went to a dinner party last night. Alice had decided to make chili and invited a few of us over to help her:
a) make the chili
b) make other dishes
c) eat the chili and the other dishes
Somehow, Judy and I were the only ones the ended up in groups A and B, where I promptly fucked up the buffalo wings by using two sticks of butter for every 2 tablespoons of Tabasco sauce. Apparently, it’s the other way around. So we ended up with delicious chili and some really buttery-ass chicken wings. It didn’t matter, because with the amount of wine that I was drinking, I could have been eating linoleum and thought it was filet mignon. The great thing for me here in Shanghai is that I no longer am the only guy that turns red after some alcohol. In a sea of Chinese people who are all missing that mysterious enzyme that keeps other folks from turning red, it’s easy to understand why they call this place Red China.
Well, I’m meeting cool people, learning about the culture, seeing new things, and definitely doing a lot of drinking and overall partying. So what’s next? I have to start studying for the LSATs, since they’re only two months away (the difference between ‘3 months away’ and ‘2 months away’ is unbelievably tangible). I have to start making some money: this prostituting myself thing is just not working. Apparently, and this is complete news to me, there are A LOT of young Chinese guys out there to be had. Damn, and I came here to be special! I’ll just have to go to Plan B and differentiate myself from everyone else by starting my own buffalo wing shack here. Oh damn, wait a minute…
posted by sushipanda at 3:22 PM
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