This is the line I've heard probably more than any other as I walk down the streets of Shanghai. People say this to me all the time, in English, emerging from a sea of anonymous faces to look me squarely in the eye as I stride confidently down the street trying not to look Caucasian.
"Watch bag."
They're not warning me to watch my bag, which might be a reasonable admonition because Shanghai, although it is purported to be crime-free, does have its share of pickpockets. No, people are pointing to laminated cards they hold in their hands, offering to sell me things constantly, most often a watch (as in Rolex) or a bag (as in Gucci or Louis Vuitton) which is undoubtedly, as the Chinese say, "jiade" or a knockoff. Apparently there are knockoffs everywhere. Certainly the watches that a man outside the silk factory I visited today was selling were knockoffs: after selling several people in my group hand fans for 3 yuan (about 40 cents) , he tried to unload some of the 20 or so watches he had clutched in his hands. "Four for one hundred, ok?" (That would make them about $2.50 each.)
People are selling things everywhere, every moment of the day, it seems, in this communist country. Some cook food on little woks right on the sidewalk, or grill little kebabs on the skinniest barbecues I've ever seen. They're selling little sticky rubbery balls that change shape when you bounce them, or they roll right up into your face to try to sell you little skate wheels you can attach to your shoes.
Yesterday in the Old Town, another woman and I got separated from our group because we spent too much time looking through our lenses. We decided to use our guide's emergency procedure: ask someone to call her on a cell phone (there are over 400 million of them in this country). We found a teenager who cheerfully complied. As our guide came running down the street and we thanked the teenager, she pulled from her pocket a laminated card filled with pictures. "Watch, bag?"
It was reassuring to be in Old Town, just to know that there is some of Shanghai that looks like the China of the movies. One of the reasons there is so little of what looks like Chinese architecture here is that a lot of the city was actually built by foreign powers -- namely the French, the British, and the Americans -- who ruled what were called "concessions" right up until World War II. In fact, my hotel is in the French concession. As I've learned about these, I've finally begun to understand what the Opium War was about: the British were fighting for the right to deal drugs in the Emporer's 'hood. And won. No wonder imperialism is such a dirty word here. Anyway, there wasn't that much of Shanghai left that the emporer ruled, and that's what comprises Old Town. The concessions had mostly Western architecture, and in some cases there are some old buildings that have been preserved, but a lot have been knocked down for new construction. And that seems to be another big theme around here: knock it down, build something new, show progress. So many of the humble dwellings I've seen seem to be marked for demolition. But it's hard to say whether it's completely a shame. I pass alleyways where women wash their dinner vegetables in old, communal outdoor sinks; I can only imagine what the toilets are like. Even the factories are being demolished: the textile factory I saw yesterday is moving out to the suburbs; the silk "factory" I saw today was really a museum attached to a shop. They're trying to move industry away from the city center to reduce pollution and build expensive new apartments. This means working people will be removed from the city more and more and the city will become the home of the rich. But it seems the poor will always come here to peddle their wares. But will they be able to ride those dilapidated old bikes all the way from the suburbs?
