Lowgene

The most recent "that's Shanghai" cover story is about the differences between Shanghai and Hong Kong, both being large and important commercial port cities in China. To me, however, there really is no comparison: Shanghai still has a long way to go if it wants to even sniff Hong Kong's reputation as an international cosmopolitan hub. In fact, I think Shanghai should begin to do some sniffing of its own; it will find a discernable stench rising from its sewers and public transport stops...yup, that's the stench of dirty people.

You really can't expect much from China in terms of hygiene; in many ways, this is a city that's growing too fast for its own clean britches. The progress made here has been more than remarkable, with sparkling new skyscrapers, modern apartment buildings, and dozens of trendy dining and drinking spots popping up monthly. Not to mention all the Starbucks cafes, those beacons of Western fidelity, that have popped up on the face of this city like a bad case of adolescent acne. Still, all the newness lies atop a gargantuan mound of cultural mores and societal traditions that can't be eradicated with the swipe of a bar of Dial.

"Wakkkaaaaaatoooooooooooop!"

Ah, the familiar sound of the impending loogey, ubiquitous as oxygen and still shocking to the most hardened of foreigners. Still, grotesquely fascinated, I can't help but look in the direction of the ghastly noise, trying to make out the transgressor of etiquette, as if pinpointing the culprit will bring me some sort of moral consolation. Perhaps if they saw me glaring, they would somehow suck the slippery glop back into their deteriorating lungs. No luck so far and not likely to come across any soon; nevertheless, it's like watching William Hung on American Idol: no matter how painful the images and the sound, you JUST CAN'T TURN AWAY.

The majority of loogey hawkers are middle-aged to old men, but there's a healthy number of old women that do it, too. You almost have to forgive them, and tell yourself "Hey, these people lived through the Cultural Revolution." That phlegm, dear sirs, is a historical artifact.

I exaggerate, of course, as I always do, but the city isn't moving quickly enough to eliminate the casual loogey hawking and the general lack of social etiquette afflicting so many that walk these streets. From the "that's Shanghai" article: To Xia Lin, a local TV personality, what Shanghai needs is simple. "It needs people with better social etiquette," she says. In the past 15 years, this thirtysomething has divided her life between Hong Kong, Shanghai and the United States and has come to decide that what defines a city as "international" is the "quality" of its people and culture.

I believe that in Xia Lin's case, "quality" consists of daily bathing, teeth brushing, nail clipping, and hair trimming...from all parts of the body. It probably does not leave room for the spontaneous loogey hawk, the long yellow nails, and the mole hairs that could be used for trout-fishing.

I'm not passing judgment here, just making observations and hoping that the time will soon come when people discover hygiene and say goodbye to "low-gene." Recent episodes of SARS and bird-flu should be capitalized to educate the masses on how to take care of themselves in order to take care of greater society. Sadly, such mass re-education is usually not effective in the long run (see aforementioned Cultural Revolution), and as with most behavior, change must be tied to economic well being. All the fancy skyscrapers in the world can't cover up the millions and millions of people who would like to take daily baths if they could, but need to find a place to live, first.

So here I am, preachy clean Eric...and all I wanted to do was write about that old lady that nearly hawked a loogey on my shoe this afternoon.

Class of its Own

There are a lot of people in Shanghai.

No, wait, there are A LOT of people in Shanghai. And Beijing. And Guangzhou. And pretty much every city in the People's Republic.

You see it in the masses crossing the street, shopping in the malls, buying sausages in the supermarket. They're everywhere. And they just don't stop staring.

I'm mostly talking about the restaurants. By my last count (yes, I counted every single head here; took me an entire weekend), there were 14 million people in this city, with an addition 4 million migrant workers who aren't "registered." That's more than three times the size of Denmark, but all of you knew that. In any case, what this means is that with so much human capital to go around, there really aren't any functions or activities that DON'T have one or two Chinese people being paid to do them at any given time.

I craved burgers two nights ago, and walked down the street to a joint called Kiwi Cafe. I walked in, and I could tell I was the only patron at the place. A woman opened the door for me, welcomed me inside, and then remained at the door. A waitress came and gave me the menu. Another waitress came a few minutes thereafter to set my table. Then a third waitress came and asked me what I wanted to drink. And finally, a waiter arrived and served me my burger.

If you're counting, that's four people who have served me so far, and all I've done is sit down and order an "everything burger" (which turned out to be a bizarrely delightful combination of meat, pineapple, cucumber, and egg). And that doesn't count the chef at the grill who made my burger for me, and the manager and ice-cream server sitting at the counter. That's 7 people total who were standing there aimlessly, prior to me walking in.

The worst part is, all seven people are staring at me while I eat. This is quite unnerving; try it some time. Especially with a huge burger. When I eat big burgers, I'm like those folks in those disgusting Jack in the Box commercials. "Don't bother me, I'm eating." I like to take a big bite, and then paint with the juices as they drip off my chin. I'm not a nibbler by any means, particularly when it comes to aptly titled "Everything Burgers." So imagine the discomfort as I'm sitting there, leaking juices and sauce and looking like Ronald McDonald, and seven people are standing there, staring at me. Waiting for me...to slip up. I should have asked the waiter to come over and wipe my chin...but I'm not an asshole.

I often wonder what the future holds for this country. So many people, so little education, yet such an intense worth ethic. If half the people in Shanghai were able to get college educations and partake in a sense of upward mobility, then China would truly be able to tap into its greatest resouce: its watermelons. Oh yeah, and its people. And on the global stage, this country would be in a class of its own.

But first, they gotta figure out how to make a good burger. Without cucumbers and eggs, please.

Fickle

Since writing trivial bullshit on my website doesn't really count as publishing, I though I'd leave a link to the first time I have ever had anything officially published as media. It's an article that I wrote for "that's Shanghai" and I got paid quite handsomely for it, at about $60 US for my troubles! Free-lancing rocks!

Obviously, as a growing boy, I need a lot more than the occasional $60 to survive here in the Paris of the East. I recently was offered a position at a Chinese law firm to be, well, resident foreigner. I had bombed the intial interview because I couldn't communicate very well, and was flabbergasted to get called in for a second time. They were smart this time around, having me talk to someone who knew English. Ultimately, it didn't matter if they guy was talking to me in Eskimo-tongue, since he wrote up the monthly salary of about $300 US a month, and I ran for the door. The cab ride to the place cost me $6 already, so I knew it wasn't going to work out.

I wonder if anyone is hiring for the position of "expat vagrant." I can offer up my extensive DVD-watching skills and my repertoire of sleep positions as proof that I can add value to this society. Somehow. Sometimes I feel like Joey from "Friends," who was convinced that he and his hand-twin, a casino dealer who had the same hand as Joey, could be superstars. If anyone out there can slack with the best of them, maybe we can team up and figure out how to slack our way to money. I have to fund that DVD collection habit somehow.

Getting A Head

Courtesy of Wil...

Sep 25th 2003
From The Economist print edition

Why people with large heads suffer less cognitive decline in old age

EXACTLY what the size of a person's brain means for his various abilities has been hotly debated for years. A few years ago, a study found that babies with high birth weights—who invariably have bigger heads—had better reading skills, superior reasoning and more robust memories, among other things, well into their twenties.

Christopher Martyn and his colleagues at the Environmental Epidemiology Unit in Southampton also knew that older people with big heads fared better in their golden years than those with small ones, but were hesitant to accept that most of the critical brain growth took place in utero. What might explain this connection between big-headedness and preservation of faculties in later life?

The research by Dr Martyn and his colleagues at the Environmental Epidemiology Unit is published in the October issue of Brain.

They decided to investigate by recruiting 215 male and female volunteers born between 1922 and 1930. Midwives' notes had recorded their head size at birth. They measured current head size, height and gave volunteers standard IQ and memory tests. They also screened them for depression. Three and a half years later these tests were repeated.

They found that a large adult head size was beneficial in preventing cognitive decline, in particular memory. At the other end of the spectrum, though, the news was grim. Those with the smallest heads had up to a fivefold greater risk of cognitive decline over this time than those with the largest. But, when the researchers analysed the data to see if head size at birth was protective, they found it was not, as they explain in the October issue of Brain.

Why the discrepancy? There is no denying the importance of development in the womb. The last third of pregnancy is one long growth spurt for the fetal brain. But brain growth keeps up quite a pace after the child is born as well: in the first year alone, a baby's brain doubles in weight and by the time a child is six, brain weight has tripled. At that tender age, a child's brain has already attained about 93% of its final size.

Dr Martyn's theory is thus that brain development during infancy and early childhood is more important than fetal growth in keeping the lights bright—and that those gains last well into old age