China...and Greece?!

One of the best things about teaching adults is that it's not verboten to hang out with students outside the classroom.  So when one of my students, a girl named Lynn in her early 20s, invited me and a handful of other students to watch fireworks in Century Park, I said yes without hesitation.

We met in Pudong:  outside exit 6, metro line 2, the Shanghai Science and Technology Museum stop.  I was the last to arrive, and I was still five minutes early.  The Shanghainese have impressed me with their ability to be consistently, politely on time.  With Lynn were Ben, a 20-something athlete and his classmate from Fudan University; and Jessie, Lynn's friend and also a student.  Jessie was a sweet girl who had the misfortune of looking like a boy.  (I also have a student named Simon who looks like a girl.)

Right away I could sense that this was one of the largest crowds I've ever been in.  Police and soldiers (all unarmed--no one, including private citizens, is allowed to own firearms in the Middle Kingdom) looked perfunctorily at our tickets at three checkpoints before we approached the viewing area:  a large promenade around what looked like a small, man-made lake.

Our tickets, I was pleasantly surprised to discover, listed Greece as the first act and China as the second.  I loved Greece!  After spending three months there as a student, I still thought it was one of the best places I'd ever visited.

The Greeks get around.  They've made it to Coober Pedy, a tiny opal mining town in The Middle of Nowhere, Australia, scrabbling for a living along with 40 other nationalities...and lizards.  In fact, back in '03 I'd stayed in a hotel called Radekka's run by a Greek couple.  The hotel's rooms were in old opal mine shafts--polished reddish stone walls deep enough underground to render air conditioning unnecessary, and so dark and quiet that I'd had one of the best nights' sleep in my whole life.

The Greeks have also made an impact in Shanghai.  The hole-in-the-wall Amphora sells everything from Greek olives and wines to cookies and ouzo.  There are a handful of Greek restaurants, too, from the mid- to the ridiculously priced.

The students and I were about an hour early, and changed spots a few times (searching for the best view) before sitting on Lynn's thoughtfully provided plastic sheeting.

"I want to cut down the tree."  Lynn, normally buoyant, was frowning, pointing at a large, leafy tree directly in front of us.  "It's hindering our sight."

I managed to stifle a smile.  Many of my students used overly academic language because their experience with English was with grammar textbooks:  reading, writing, memorization, rather than speaking.

"It's okay," I soothed, and lifted both of my arms up and to either side of the tree.  "We can see around it."

Lynn and Jessie unloaded fruit--black plums and sliced cantaloupe--and a six-pack of Coca-Cola from their backpacks.  They reminded me of moms on an outing--taking care of the children:  the two boys and the foreigner.  It wasn't the first time I'd been treated like a child because I couldn't speak the language and didn't know the culture, but it didn't bother me so much at the moment.

"I don't know what you like to drink, so I buy--bought?--American!"  Lynn giggled.

"I love Coke," I said honestly.  "I also like Wang Lao Ji," referring to the sweetened herbal tea that sponsored The Voice of China.  The drink came in a red can decorated with yellow characters that spelled out "King Old Lucky".  Apparently, there was a famous dispute over the recipe of this drink.

The four students looked impressed and nodded.

After about half an hour, I started to feel a bit nervous about the fact that we were sitting down.  We were now completely surrounded by people sitting, standing, eating, smoking; people with toddlers on their shoulders and people in wheelchairs.  The Chinese have a saying:  Ren shan, ren hai:  people mountain, people sea.  I thought, not for the first time how accurate and logical Chinese can be, and how poetic--crowds of people large as a mountain, large as the ocean.

The sky darkened, the crowd deepened, and the time ticked down.  "That tree!"  Jessie moaned, pointing, leaning her arm around my shoulder.  Chinese people are not usually very touchy-feely unless they are with friends.  Lynn and Jessie had been walking arm-in-arm earlier, and it was common to see women my age doing the same, or even holding hands, when walking around the city.  Ben and his roommate looked at each other, looking a bit embarrassed, before smiling a little at me.  This was another China thing--when you are their guest, they will do anything to keep you happy.  I had a feeling that, if it had been within their power, my students would've pruned every offensive branch so that we could have the perfect view of the coming show.  I resolved not to complain once.

"Well, I'm too busy making friends with all the babies right now!"  I said.  It was true.  I'd smiled and waved at a little girl with a bowl haircut who was gnawing at corn on the cob, a popular snack in Shanghai; I'd then played peek-a-boo with a little boy on his father's shoulders.  They were sooo cute!

Soon a man with the loud, traditional, Beijing-accented Chinese got on the PA to announce the beginning of the show.  The sponsors were saluted with small bursts of fireworks after each company name was announced:  a warm-up.

the Greek and Chinese national anthems were played, and then the Greek show began--it was maybe 20 minutes of dazzling, sparkling, fireworks synced with Moby and AC/DC, among other artists that I hoped were actually from Greece.  The finale:  flash-bang grenades that blinded us and evoked applause from the audience.

The sky was choked with yellowish-brown smoke that was, thankfully, blowing away from us.  "So angry about the trees!"  Lynn said again.  "We don't see!"

I thought we could see fine, mostly--yes, we were missing the middle of the display, but I wasn't going to admit that and make my hosts feel bad.

"I want to cut it!"  she repeated.

"But trees are good!"  I said.  "They take the smoke out of the air!"  The boys laughed, but the girls still looked upset.

China's show was a bit more thematic:  "My Heart Will Go On" the ticket had said in English.  Oh, no, I thought, not--

And there was a small, brightly-lit replica of the Titanic, cruising from left to center before going dark.  China is still obsessed with James Cameron's late 90s flick.  Even people who speak no English hum along with Celine Dion's theme, and it is sung reverently at any KTV parlor you can find.

The Chinese fireworks show was just as exciting as the Greek, and more so--there were green lasers dancing in the smoke; Jack and Rose's Chinese voices playing over lamenting music; floating white sparklers twirling on the surface of the lake, a tribute to those who had lost their lives at sea.  There were fireworks spinning on stands like pinwheels and golden showers of glitter that looked like heavenly willow trees dipping toward the water.  The finale left me feeling like Lindsay Lohan in front of a million paparazzi.  I was almost totally blind and deaf from the flashes and bangs.

It was the best fireworks show I'd ever seen.

But as soon as the lights came back on, the audience turned on their heels and made their way steadily to the metro.

"Uh..."  I mumbled as we joined ren hai, holding on to each others' backpacks or shoulders to stay together.  Surely not all of these people, these millions, were going for Line 2 back to Puxi, the other side of the river?

Oh but they were.  And no shouting police or soldiers crying "Bu hui!" (you can't) could stem the stampede, the avalanche, of people tumbling down the stairs.  The security check (x-ray machines) were always suspended when there was a rush like this:  moving millions of people was the emergency now, not what people might've had in their bags.

Somehow--somehow--we managed to stay together.  The benefit of just missing the previous train meant that we were first in line for the next one.

"'Fireworks'" zenme shuo?"  I asked.  After some debate, Ben and Lynn agreed on the characters.

"Yanhua."  Smoke flower.  Ah, the Chinese language tells it like it is.