On my day trip to Suzhou on Saturday, I saw a city of two tales that more or less mirrors the "economic miracle" and "spiritual struggle" in many other places.

A high-speed train whisked me from Shanghai to Suzhou in 25 minutes on Saturday morning. The new railway station in Suzhou was still under construction, but an endless stream of passengers, especially migrant workers who abandoned their farmland to grab a job in the city, already made the grand new station appear somewhat run down.

My wife and I elbowed our way out of the crowd and jogged all the way to the downtown area, only to be drowned in another sea of migrants - mostly factory workers - who spent their weekend roaming aimlessly among whatever shops promoted sales.

They laughed and shrieked at cheap jokes as they idled along Guan Qian Jie, an ancient street now dominated by similar shopping malls common in Western shopping centers. A charming, ancient Taoist temple on Guan Qian Jie, supposed to be a place of spiritual repose, was drowned in loudspeaker noises that are part of any roadside sales campaign with Chinese characteristics.

On Guan Qian Jie, you see how some of China's economic "miracles" work: move tens of millions of farmers to a city to take manufacturing jobs and then use their wages to buy, buy, buy. They swell the city, consume the city and "consummate" their life in materialism that destroys the very spirit of the city.

Just one street away from Guan Qian Jie lies one of the oldest streets of Suzhou - Pingjiang Road that runs along a quiet river.

No ugly structures like Wall-Mart on this silent street. No boys and girls who have lost their farmland souls in their newfound but misguided pleasures of urbanization.

They're not here not because they cannot afford it. Rather, they're not interested. They don't bother to come because they don't know what's great about Suzhou. It's not their fault. They're told to shop until they drop.