There’s a scene in the modern classic, “The Shawshank Redemption”, during which Tim Robbins’ character, Andy Dufresne, tells Morgan Freeman’s character, Red, “I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living or get busy dying.” After battling the beast that is Shanghai for a little over three months now, I can say this city has become my own personal Shawshank, and I’m left facing Andy’s conundrum for myself. Here’s why.
Ninety-three days ago we kissed our friends, waved goodbye to our house of seven years–sporting its new “For Sale” sign–and boarded flight UA857 bound for China. Our apartment in Shanghai’s glittering Xujiahui district was being prepared for our arrival; a spot in a second-grade class at the French International School had been secured for our only child; and our carry-on bags were filled with our lightest summer clothes and a few items to carry us along until our mega-shipment arrived in six weeks. We were prepared.
In fact, the only unknown was whether we’d remain in the city longer than the one year my wife, Anja, had signed up for with her California-based company. But time would tell. Sure, we may have been escaping the cliché of a mid-life rut, but with our seven year-old son, Florian, exhibiting an adorable flexibility regarding the move, we embraced the green light of a new experience and ran with it.
Our first meal in Shanghai provided the sort of typo entertainment new arrivals in China find endlessly entertaining. I mean, really, who could forget a first meal where your choices are “Pickles of the Manchus”, “Fnied Squid”, and our favorite, “Pork and fuck the bean curd”? Sheepishly, we chose dumplings.
But there’s something about that almost there but not quite there menu that’s also woven into the fabric of this city and, presumably, the new China. Perhaps those who have never visited would be surprised to hear that most things in Shanghai seem relatively familiar and, as such, provide you with a false sense of understanding. But just beneath the surface, the machinations driving those things are almost always dramatically unfamiliar. It’s that unfamiliarity, coupled with your misguided understanding, that throws the newcomer into a “perfect disequilibrium” and with it immeasurable frustration.
This nuanced way of life comes at you from any angle, at any time, and in any place. Thinking of it as a montage of sorts, it starts with a simple errand mutating into the challenge to avoid pedestrians wielding umbrellas almost as weapons; or—and there is no delicate way to put this—dodging the spit those same pedestrians tend to expel at a moment’s notice; or side-stepping trucks, cars, scooters, bicycles, and people darting into and out of the street; ignoring the curious stares and finger-pointing; turning away from the tap water; fearing the “Super Typhoons”; or, most commonly, fleeing the clamor of 24-hour construction and destruction from any, and seemingly every, non-gentrified plot of land in the city. Then, sometimes, it goes in a different direction in having things fixed and refixed: floods in the very new and very expensive bathroom, air-conditioners, heaters, lights, televisions and satellite connections, leaks in the ceiling, and, of course, inaccessible websites.
Most frustrating of all? Remember the light carry-on bags packed with light cotton and linen? It’s now November. The weather has turned and we are still waiting for our belongings to arrive. They’re stuck in customs while residency certificates are processed and checked, and rechecked and reprocessed ad nauseum. The house back in the San Francisco bay area has been sold for two months and all the while, the items that once occupied it—and once provided the three of us with small reminders that we have lived and loved—are idling in a shipping container nowhere near our 34th floor apartment in the sky.
Somehow, all of it together: the niggling hassles so effective in distracting one from more important tasks, coupled with the carcass of an apartment waiting to be filled, have me waiting to live.
Now, it is true that in the same amount of time, we have traveled to Thailand on vacation, flown to Hong Kong twice, visited skateboard parks, science museums, and had a fair amount of fun. And, some might say, I’m reacting more to the struggle to find my niche than to the city itself. All I can say to that, again, is that time will tell.
Despite the tremendous suffering screenwriter/director Frank Darabont placed at the feet of his fictional Dufresne, he never allowed his protagonist to give up hope. The scene from “The Shawshank Redemption” that began this post is both a vehicle for his hope and the perfect segue from the movie’s second act to its third. It’s the sort of scene that prepares you for the protagonist hitting the winning home-run; kissing the girl and getting the money; conquering the villain; or in Andy’s case, escaping from prison. The beginning to the perfect ending.
The perfect ending (for now) to this first chapter of our Shanghai story would start with a knock at the door. A courteous representative from the moving company would be on the other side politely asking us to sign for our belongings. Lined-up neatly in the hallway behind him or her would be our 120 boxes of love waiting to be reunited with our small family. Giddy laughter would fill the empty rooms. Shanghai’s abundant distractions, nuisances, and petty hassles would start to fade into a fraction of a memory seconds away from being forgotten altogether. The cacophony of construction would have dwindled into a distant, and almost mellifluous hum somewhere over the French Concession a mile or two away. I’d smile contentedly with the hope that maybe there was life and beauty in this city after-all.
And I would, as Andy would say, get busy living. Only time will tell.
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1. Susan Wels 11.19.07 / 2am
Beautiful website, Julian, and gorgeous night shot of Shanghai [edit: since removed]. I enjoyed the post and look forward to your future installments! Dave and I have been doing our own (part-time) cross-cultural, intercontinental thing since we bought a farm in Chile two years ago. When I’m down there, I’m too busy living it to be creative…like you, I’m hoping that inspiration might strike one of these days! If not, it’s still a hell of an experience. Love to Anja and Florian–
Sue
2. Mary 11.19.07 / 4am
Hey, Julian! I was so happy to see your e-mail and to connect to the blog. Sounds as if China is the most mixed of bags, but as long as you’re connecting with Andy’s quest for freedom, that bodes well. As for the pictures, static? Puleeze! Love the pictures, love the prose, love the three of you, whom I miss terribly. Keep blogging! I will check back regularly. Much love from Shiloh, Mason, Peanut, and Auntie m.
3. Teeka 11.19.07 / 9am
Julian! Gosh we miss you. It’s wonderful to hear from you. I miss you, Anja, and Florian to pieces, and Marco talks about Florian all the time. The Lions just ended their fall season yesterday: it was a zillion to three, or something, and we had a little pizza party afterwards at the end of the Marina soccer fields and the kids got their certificates and medals. Having finished our eight months in Colombia just as you all left for China, I can feel your pain of the shipped items from home having been taken hostage. Bummer. I hope that guy is standing in the hallway right now! Nat had his Junkestra piece at Herbst theatre Saturday night; it was splendid and well received by a full house. My football program is going well this term. Here’s a snippet of the impact we’re having on these kids: last spring nineteen guys had scholarship offers to universities to play; before we started the program, the average was about three. That’s what we’re talking about, eh? Kisses all around. Love, Teeka (and Marco and Norman, too)
4. Alexandra 11.19.07 / 10am
It’s so nice to read you Julian. You are really a compelling writer, and I mean this. Look forward to your other pictures too. I think you would really enjoy reading ‘Foreign babes in Beijing’. Like with your blog I laughed and felt the questions growing in me at a steady pace. Can’t wait to see some of your answers. It’s still 20 something degrees in HK, if you start getting too cold…
As one would probably find in China you are probably busy existing right now, limbo between busy living and busy dying… Lots of love to all three of you, alex.
5. Glenn 11.19.07 / 10pm
I didn’t realize bean curd was so reviled in China. Here’s to new directions, new creations, new inspirations. g
6. Moni 11.24.07 / 4am
Hi Julian, great to get your news about life in Shanghai, warts and all. Meanwhile I gather your personal belongings have arrived and your place looks more like home. Some of your account sounds like our move to Hanoi in the early nineties – no day ever quite turned out the way one anticipated.
I actually envy you the opportunity to spend some time in China during this period of yet another great transition for the country. But for the time being I’ll rely on you and your camera to let us know what’s happening.
Love, Moni
7. hilary 11.25.07 / 4am
Ouch. Poignant and painful prose. I feel you. Yes certainly fun and distractions may have softened a few of the hard corners. But I understand the malaise of a life lived in limbo. Let it arrive already, and land squarely and securely in heart and home. Seems the goal we all aspire toward. Though maybe that’s the illusion, and you are slyly being shown the greater truth. We don’t get to own this life here really. Just borrow a little slice to stretch out into. And this chapter of yours is certainly an adventure. Comfort might be another chapter. Sigh. I wish you the sense of wonder and lightness to laugh at the illogical. And connect with some simple telling while there. Give your adorable family my best,
8. Miranda 11.27.07 / 10am
Dear friend, sounds like a glorious challenge to see beyond what masquerades as “all there is” . How crazy this world can be, with all its chaos, confusion and material pursuits. I live in a paradise beyond dreams, with a 200 foot waterfal in my backyard and water that flows from the Lost Valley that tastes like liquid gold. How incredibly blessed am I , but still I dwell on the negative and the mundane. I have absolute faith that although your world appears overwealming now, you will find its heart and soul as you remember your own………….much love Mira
9. Cindy 12.04.07 / 12am
What can I add? I totally feel you man. I am glad I can come back here once in a while and stay connected. We miss you all terribly.
