Voice message: "Kevin, call me back. I've got a business proposition for you and we've got to talk. ASAP." It's Kristin, the fastest talking woman on earth. Two years ago we'd bonded at a super-crazy job, and she had so saved my sanity there that we remained in touch long after we went our separate ways. Her message today is so enigmatic that I make her wait a day before I call back.
She irritably fills me in: One of the clients at the ad agency where she works is printing a high profile job in China. Press proofs they've received have alarmed them, and they realize they've got to send someone over to supervise the job in person. I get a sudden adrenaline rush as I realize where this conversation might be headed. I hear Kristin saying something about would I be at all interested... when I blurt out "yes" so fast she gets whiplash. I get a rotten night of sleep, and the next morning I bolt upright from bed at the sound of the alarm... shaking, teeth clenched. A silent scream: "What have I gotten myself into this time?" But there's no time to think about it. I have about three weeks to prepare — procuring a visa, getting time off my regular job, boning up on the specifics of the job, buying electronic adapters and gadgets, loading my iPod with music, etc. But then, I'm in the air, crossing the international dateline, a layover in Tokyo, and finally 18 hours but two days later landing in Guangzhou, southern China.
My job was to oversee print quality for the packaging of a new line of men's underwear by a major U.S. clothing label. Even though the assignment was ostensibly straightforward, I experienced a heart-stopping fear of failure, half a world away from where my work would ultimately be judged. I arrived expecting some surprises — which there were — but overall in the 8 days of working on press there I felt confident that everything came out to beautiful perfection. Turns out, the client was happy too. Oh frabjous joy.
During a couple of breaks in production... waiting for proofs, waiting for new film and replates.. waiting for the interminable mealtimes to end, I did get a little time for sightseeing. I'd also scheduled my return flight for several days after the expected end of the project. Just in case it took longer than expected. I figured if it did go smoothly I'd enjoy spending a couple of days in Hong Kong, which was just 90 minutes away from Guangzhou by high speed train.
Some notes from the road:
QingYuan, and DongGuan, Day 1: After a haggard night trying to sleep off jet lag, was picked up at the hotel early in the morning to go to the main factory in QingYuan, a busy back-road market town ringed by grimy manufacturing complexes about 80km northwest of Guangzhou. The welcome at the factory was surreal, with a conga line of workers at the gate, two men prancing about in dragon costumes, and firecrackers blazing. At the front door was a sign welcoming me with my name on it like I was some sort of celebrity. But I took it like a man. Inside, the factory floors were an eye-opener too, filled with sewing machines and other equipment, and workers. Everything is done by hand — from cutting to sewing to heat-sealing — where I'd thought to see a bit of automation. After lunch we drove a couple of hours west to the printing plant in DongGuan where my project was centered, and got to work.
Shenzhen, Day 3: On an afternoon we were waiting for the press in DongGuan to come back online, my translator and driver took me to Shenzhen, to visit a tourist attraction called "Splendid China." Shenzhen is perhaps China's most modern city, built from the ground up over the past two decades. At this Splendid China they've done an amazing job of recreating many of China's different cultures, so you can see the typical houses, buy some of the traditional arts and crafts, taste the foods, etc. Just like Epcot Center — except real Mongols live in them thar yurts, cooking roots in Yak butter.
There was also an extensive miniature village. I mean huge, with a cross-section of China's many old, famous and beautiful structures, built precisely to scale. Masterpieces of detail in their own right. Amazing how this 4-foot high Great Wall looks so real.
Guangzhou, Day 3: This evening went walking around the city streets and markets after dark. I spotted a vendor selling mangosteens, but I'd already bought some fruit for dinner. Another lady was selling toads, and you could buy a squirming little mesh bag of them, for dinner I guess. If I'd been hungrier... who knows! Then I passed an ice cream shop, so I went in and pointed to what I wanted. They waved fingers to indicate how much, and it was 3 RMB, or about 40 cents. Lovely. Next stop, Starbucks for a Mochaccino. After I finished the comforting brew, I flipped the mug over to look on the bottom. SHOCK! "Made in the USA."
Guangzhou, Day 5: Working here means accepting the fact of nonstop every-waking-hour contact with the vendor. Today for lunch the English-speaking manager who accompanied me, Bernard, along with the driver-who-had-no-name, took me to a Cantonese restaurant on the fourth floor of a bleak shopping mall. The specialty was free-range chicken, served rare, "like steak in the U.S." as he put it. As in, cooked only 80 percent. With red streaks running out of the bones. Doesn't that stuff give you salmonella? I had the creepy thought that the chicken head lying there was blinking at me with its milky eye, and the legs, artfully positioned by the parsley, twitched once or twice.
By dinner time I had recovered my appetite, and found myself — finally — alone back in Guangzhou. I began thinking about the only Italian restaurant in the city that I'd heard about, wondering what it might be like to eat ravioli with chopsticks. Must... have... carbs... I took the overpass to the left, and at the turn where the steps go down was a group of women in short skirts waving at me. I tried to dodge them, but those girls are quick, and one of them stepped into my path while another reached out her hands to touch my arm. "Hello. What is your name? Are you in Guangzhou for business?" I darted around them and didn't look back. I spotted the restaurant in the next building, up on the third floor, and after eyeballing the menu I decided that Spaghetti Putanesca seemed appropriate for the evening. To accompany it, I chose the Great Wall merlot, grown from the ancient vineyards of Shanghai (originally planted by the Romans, perhaps). How to describe it? A bouquet of saccharine and passionflower, notes of sour cherry, with an aftertaste of battery acid.
Guangzhou, Day 7: I decided to head up to the mountain park, "Baiyunshan," where there's a tramway that takes you up the first steep slope. Short taxi ride over for $1, then $2 more to take the tramway to the top. I got out and walked for a couple of hours, to the highest peak, Moxing Ridge, and in an optimistic burst of enthusiasm decided to take the 1,000-step climb rather than the roadway around. I thought I was going to die on the way up. Overheating, legs turning to jelly, etc. But the Chinese people also making the climb didn't fare much better, so I didn't feel too bad.
From the top, I took an easier way down, past a couple of interesting pagoda-like kiosks, and at the parking lot made a wrong turn as I was looking for the scenic route down, rather than following the road. A group of four Chinese kids, around college age, started laughing and motioning at me to come the other way, and follow them down. So I ended up walking with them to the bottom of the mountain. The girl knew just enough English to communicate vaguely, and she taught me some new Chinese words which I promptly forgot, along with her name, "Sweet Flower." We just basically strolled down, laughing, trying to talk, and having a cool time. At one point we stopped to watch a sparkling turquoise kingfisher diving for fish in a little pond. At the bottom they were going to take a bus home, and I wanted to go to the botanical garden extra fee of $25 (yuan) to enter. I said I would take a taxi home, and the girl became quite animated that the bus cost $1 (yuan) and the taxi cost $10 so the bus was much better. They helped me find the right bus, which was across the road, then we said good-bye so I could go look at the campy botanical gardens.
I thought about her advice about the bus. She was right: 10 cents is a lot less than a dollar. It was worth the price of admission just to see the driver refuse to take on a passenger who was carrying an automobile fender. The bus ride was a thrill of its own, stick shift, wedging through tight traffic. That's when I saw another way of transporting large auto parts around town: two guys on a motorcycle had a red hood between them, cross-ways. Maybe it also served like the balancing pole carried by high wire artists.
Hong Kong, Day 9: The print job is over, and now I'm in Hong Kong for some R&R. I was scoping out the arts/antiques district to see how best to max out my credit card. Found lots of mammoth ivory, on the streets and in the shops. Totally legal since the woolly mammoth isn't exactly on the endangered species list. A complete tusk, fully carved, runs about $100,000 (US) asking price. I actually saw a guy carving onto a new elephant tusk, and it was beautiful to watch. I figured it might be a bit large to fit into my suitcase. The salesman at the ivory place asked me: "Are you in Hong Kong to make money, or spend money." Answer: "A little bit of both." But netsukes and other little curios are plentiful if not exactly cheap. The sales staff are really pleasant, willing to talk and chat about their wares with no hard sell.
Hong Kong, Day 10: Visited the "Night Market" across the harbor in Kowloon. The subway system is amazing. No problem figuring out how to get my ticket — everything's automated, and in English — or how to reach my destination. When I got out, I just followed some other Westerners about three blocks through some dimly lit pedestrian alleyways, and Voila! the Night Market. The market goes from about 6:30 p.m. to after 10, and is 99.8% Chinese customers. I felt even more like a foreigner than I have the rest of my trip here.
It's like a Moroccan souk in spirit (I know — I've been there), except everything is manufactured, inorganic, and totally junky quality. All prices are negotiable, and I haggled and haggled to buy four T-shirts, starting at $49 HK each, and getting four for $150 HK. After we reached an agreement on price, she bagged up the shirts and handed them to me. Instead of sauntering away, I looked in to check the contents, but before I could count them the woman reached down to the table next to her and handed me my fourth shirt that had somehow not made it into the bag. Shoppers beware! That's one of the things I liked about the more reputable shops where I dropped some cash on this afternoon. They make a dramatic show of wrapping the purchase right under your eyes and handing you the package. I suspect more than one westerner has been duped by a less scrupulous merchant who took the purchase away into the back room for "packing"! The honest ones want you to know you're not being taken for a ride.
There were a couple of other funny things about the market. First, several hotels advertised rooms by the hour, with a special rate for two hours. Second, a lot of food stalls line the side streets. I figured, hey, if I can see them cook it, it's probably safe! My optimistic nature may yet get me killed from food poisoning. Anyway, I ordered some mushroom shishkebabs, and some savory smelling deep-fried seafood dough balls. Take a bite, and there's a little treat in the middle: A tentacle!
I ended the evening walking down to the Star Ferry dock area, on the Kowloon side, after the sun had set. If you've ever seen pictures of the Hong Kong skyline at night, you are still not prepared for the actual sight. I sat by the water's edge for maybe an hour, watching the lights, eating ice cream, buying a cappuccino, watching people. As I was waiting on the edge of the terminal, the fireworks began. No time to set up my tripod, which was too short to have worked through the narrow (and chest-high) window anyway. So, set the camera on the window ledge, grip it firmly and hold still for 2 seconds. Hey, the results weren't bad.
Hong Kong, Day 12: Took the cable car up to Victoria Peak for morning coffee, walked up to the peak and looked south toward the back side of Hong Kong. Around noon I hopped the bus around to the south side of the island, just to get a look at the beaches. At Aberdeen I wandered down to the fishmarket, where a lot of boats and ships are moored, either along the wharf or out in the water. Somehow one of the women talked me into taking a sampan tour of the harbor. Just me, alone, with no other passengers. So I asked "how much" to ride to Stanley... a 45 minute trip by sea. The price was a ripoff but I took the trip anyway. At Stanley I walked around on the beach, then decided to return to Hong Kong proper by double-decker bus. And if you want a hair-raising experience, I suggest you do the same. The road is like a roller coaster — all curves and slopes, with sudden stops to drop off or pick up passengers. I was on the top deck, front seat, and tree trunks were whizzing by, inches from my face. Well, it's perfectly calibrated to give you at least an inch of clearance. I suppose that's all one needs, really.
Gear: Canon Powershot S70 digital camera.
