Shanghai's own Chinatown leaps out at you when you least expect it.
Walk down the Bund along the Huangpu River, surrounded by some of the most expensive real estate in the country, hang a left under the shadow of the posh Jin Mao Tower which stands tall directly across the water and duck to avoid the clothes hanging overhead.
This is old Shanghai. A Shanghai left behind by time and development, overlooked by the hordes of expatriates and tourists and often even ignored by other Shanghainese, except those who have no choice but to live here.
The area, hidden in the shadow of refined European-style mansions of the Bund, is full of "shikumen," buildings which provide accommodation for a maximum number of people in a limited space. They first appeared during the industrialization of Shanghai in the colonial period of the early part of the 20th century, when mass numbers of workers were needed by local factories.
"The Bund is very beautiful and 500 metres away is this place," said Hu Gensheng, who has lived in the same tiny apartment since the day he was born in 1947.
Hu's tailor shop is about a metre and a half wide and two metres long and looks out onto a narrow corridor that leads into a tight network of dilapidated homes.
He gestures widely, gets a cigarette, sticks it in a mouth with one tooth left and yells to be heard above the noise of the horns, the engines and the hammering.
Just outside his window a worker is half-heartedly hitting at decades old paint and getting the place ready for a modest facelift. If Hu had his way, the workers would just tear it down and he would be moved somewhere else. As things stand now, he has no money to go anywhere else.
A glance down the street shows a kaleidoscope of life in a narrow canyon created by three and four storey buildings in various states of disrepair.
Clothes hang from poles sticking out of every window. An old man and woman sit on low rickety chairs sharing a cup of tea. A hot barbecue shoots up flames, while a skewer seller behind it pushes coals with a stick. Store owners stand or wait inside their customer-free establishments. They sell anything and everything electrical supplies, cellphone batteries, lace, rope, shoes, purses, drinks, T-shirts, pots and pans, brooms, furniture, lamps, and cleaning products.
A wrinkled man on a bike offers to sharpen knives, scissors and cleavers. An old woman walks around with a plastic bag on her shoulder collecting recyclable bottles. A younger woman sweeps the street.
The entire area is surrounded by a collection of skyscrapers and their Fortune 500 tenants. Those buildings are only metres away, but the lifestyle they represent is unreachable.
The city's old Chinese quarters encircle the beautiful Yuyuan Garden, which attracts tourists both foreign and local.
"The surrounding areas have changed a lot, but not here," said Zheng. She did not want to give her full name, but talked freely. She has lived here for five decades and, at 78, lives in a tiny room with her husband and grandson. Embarrassment prevents her from saying exactly how small it is.
"People here are hoping the buildings will be demolished. They are hoping to move out," said Zheng. There are too many people around and the living conditions are not good.
But nobody around has the money to leave, she adds.
So they wait for the "chai" destruction signs to go up and signal the beginning of the end of the building they live in and their move to better quarters.
The area is a melting pot of migrants. Seven families live in Zheng's building, five are from other provinces.
"There are many strangers," she said.
Local people say 3,000 families live in the little semi-circle created by Renmin Road just down the street from the city's buzzing financial district. It is an area that lives to its own rhythm, unlike that of the rest of cosmopolitan and international Shanghai.
"Most people don't have private toilets," said Kong Zhengmin, who has lived there a decade. She also wants to leave. She also doesn't have the money.
Outsiders, though, find the whole scene quaint.
"This is ordinary life, day-to-day. These are the people that service the growth of Shanghai," said Caroline Conlan, an Englishwoman visiting the city. "Put them in a building and they would lose that feeling of community."
Others, who have been around longer, say there is a need to update and modernize the area.
"I come here to escape the rest of Shanghai," said Javier Mayayo, a Spaniard who has lived in China for four years. He said he sees why there is a need to restore, but not obliterate the area, much like the older neighborhoods of European cities.
Rather than restoration, however, the future of the old Chinese quarters may follow the pattern of other areas around it low-rise, old and cramped buildings torn down to make room for tall, new and expensive ones.
What future?
Wang Renqiang, an official with the district's urban planning department, says the government is resolved to develop the area, "but the exact plan has not been finalized.
"The region belongs to the Yuyuan Garden area, one of the city's preservation areas, in which the government hopes to keep the old styles with a new look, and is therefore very cautious."
City authorities have several options, says Wang.
"It could be landscaped, green land or commercial complexes like those in other parts of the area," but he refused to expand.
"Too much attention to this project might lead to more expenses in moving the residents out," he said.
A plan of the city in the year 2020, laid out at the Shanghai Urban Planning Centre paints a different picture of the area. An enormous maquette on public display of Shanghai down to the last skyscraper, shows the area full of tall new buildings, all painted white.
Zheng Yashan, deputy manager of the public relations department, explained: "The white buildings have not been built yet."
For local residents 2020 may not be soon enough. By then, Hu would have lived more than 70 years in the area he would like to leave now or, hopefully, "in the very near future."
(China Daily May 24, 2005)
