Our first introduction to Shanghai was another five star hotel, the Shanghai Hilton. We were met at the entrance to the hotel for the first time with metal detection machines and security guards. We found out Shanghai was host to a major international tennis championship, and some of the players were staying at the hotel. Our hotel registrations and luggage were handled by Joy, and we were given one half hour to re-assemble at the bus to begin our tour on schedule. We found our rooms equipped with "five star" happy houses, and didn't linger long, for we were excited to get "out and about" in Shanghai, the Paris of China.

Joy introduced our local guide in the bus. "Jay," an emigrant from the south of China, was warm, personable and statuesque, possessing the elan that was fitting to someone leading us in Shanghai. She too had been taught by Americans, for she immediately greeted our tired and stressed group with (remember we had an early breakfast and had flown in from Wuhan), "I see you are all bright-eyed and bushy tailed.'" She received laughter and immediate acceptance at this remark.

Jay gave us highlights about Shanghai's checkered past (the Opium Wars had created the port cities) as a western controlled, world-renowned city. She added that Shanghai had also been the venue in 1921 of the first Chinese Communist Party meeting, and a place where one could get "Shanghaied." Currently Shanghai was the world's second largest port.

She then filled us in on our first stop, the Yu Yuan Garden, a large 400-year-old park with Koi in pools of water, bridges, pagodas, and a variety of scrubs and trees. The park gave an impression of harmony and beauty.

Located near the garden was the Children's Palace, a private school in traditional arts, so we walked towards it through the Dongtai curio market. The walkway was narrow and filled with Chinese tourists who were sightseeing and shopping.

Every conceivable product filled the boutiques along the way, from Panda bears to kites, jade jewelry and sculpture, to chops and silk clothing. Items were stocked on shelves and hung from hooks and wires, protruding as much as possible into view. Although crowded, the shops displayed bright colors and smiling faces, revealing a cheerful atmosphere. Members of our group were, of course, looking for that item that hadn't yet been purchased. Joy took her customary place in the rear, shepherding the wayward to ensure against a lost lamb.

The Children's Palace offered classes in dance, theater, and music, and was funded jointly in equal portions by the State, parents, and private donations. The three-story brick building was fronted by a small park where parents and/or grandparents waited. The school looked very much like an American school in any average-sized American city.

We peeked into classrooms where small-group instruction was given in keyboard instruments, violin, ballet, calligraphy, painting and martial arts. The children were cheerful, but earnest and civil. There was little by-play, as if they understood the burden they carried to meeting the expectations of their guardians.

We were ready for lunch, so we worked our way back to our bus through the usual crowds of vendors. One of our single, still-employed members entered the bus with both wrists and forearms circled with watches-gifts for co-workers and clients back home in Florida.

Jay pointed out the major buildings on the skyline, commenting on the graceful suspension bridges, freeway cloverleaves on the four elevated highways that we passed on our way to a restaurant. The buildings housed such international conglomerates as Morgan Stanley, Deutsche Bank, Australia's Macquarie Bank, and Singapore's Capital Land. These financial and investment businesses spoke to the huge amount of capital needed for the vast expansion of this city in the last 25 years that was fueled by foreign investment. Literally miles of apartment and condominium buildings filled the horizon as far as one could see in the lightly smoged atmosphere. After lunch we drove to the Bund, the concentration of European-designed buildings on the shore of the Huangpu River. These buildings represented the foreign domination of the past of Shanghai. Many of these buildings had been razed to accommodate the building frenzy of the 1980s and 1990s; but several blocks still remained, now celebrated by the government as national treasures. These buildings looked like something you would see in Vienna with their brick exteriors, 12-story heights, and general appearance of solidity.

They contrasted with the skyscrapers of the Pudong, a Special Economic Zone, across the river from the Bund, where the Chinese government had spent $12 billion on the infrastructure. The Orient Pearl Television Station, the tallest TV tower in Asia, had three metallic bubbles that sheltered a dance hall, a restaurant, and an observation tower. The other buildings of the Pudong house many of the world's Fortune 500 companies, taking advantage of the tax breaks and the friendship of the authorities.

Another building in the Pudong that caught my attention was the Jinmao Building, a structure designed by my architect son's former employer, SOM of Chicago. This 88-story building boasted the world's highest inn, the Grand Hyatt Hotel.

Helen and I strolled the boardwalk between the Bund and Pudong, reminiscing about our many walks on similar river banks in Paris, London, Rome and Amsterdam, and wishing we had more time to investigate the many avenues and parks on that side of the river. But our guides beckoned, for we had to rest a bit and freshen up before dinner and a traditional acrobatics show. And we needed a break because our senses were overwhelmed. We agreed, however, to return to Shanghai. It had been our custom to leave something undone, so that we'd have an excuse to return in the future.

That evening we went to a central-city complex of stunning modernity for an acrobatic extravaganza. The acts were elaborate, with excellent choreography and costuming. The athletes were super-talented and super-strong, doing feats of awe-inspiring acrobatics, building human pyramids and performing marvelous balancing acts.

The next morning we visited the Shanghai museum, viewing ancient collections of Chinese bronzes, ceramics, paintings, and calligraphy. The building, one among many in the People's Park of Shanghai that emulated Tennanmin Square in Beijing, was a marvel in itself.

We had the afternoon off before our farewell dinner in the evening. We again took a stroll from our hotel in an opposite direction of any we had taken earlier. We saw our first busker in Shanghai as we crossed an overpass leading to a shopping area that Joy recommended. The busker played a single string guitar-like instrument and sang a Chinese tune. On the other side of the overpass we found a modest street with low buildings and small shops but a lot of foot traffic. We stopped at a coffee shop and felt a strange familiarity until we saw a sign on the wall announcing that it was a franchise of a Californian espresso chain. Next, we stopped at a shop and bought a Christmas tree ornament. Across the street we saw a real Rolex shop where I priced the model I had bought from a vendor for seven dollars. It retailed at a special discount price for a mere $7,645.

Behind this street was a modern four-story building with escalators, an atrium, and vaulted ceilings which housed retails shops bearing the names of Gucci, Armani, and Coach to name a few. These were not "knockoff" shops. The stores were filled with goods, but there were few customers on any of the floors. The Chinese middle class was yet to materialize, or maybe it was just a slow day. Again, this hike had revealed the contrasts between the haves and have-nots in buildings just two blocks apart.

Our farewell dinner, an elaborate spread with champagne, began with toasts to our tour director, "Joy." She actually blushed and was moved by our greetings and applause. Another toast was to the individuals of our group who had been quite agreeable on this tour of two weeks.

During dinner we all agreed the Chinese were large in vision and accomplishment. We had climbed on the Great Wall and had seen the modern counterparts in the Three Gorges Dam and the startling growth of the cities. These enlargements were not just sprawl, but had been accompanied with the necessary infrastructure. Although we did not travel to Shenzhen, the first Special Economic Zone, it had grown from a fishing village of 70,000 people to a metropolis of 7,000,000 in twenty-five years. They were also constructing a bullet train to Beijing from Shanghai to open in time for the Olympic Summer Games of 2008. We had also seen cell phones being used on nearly every sidewalk, and Internet cafes were in all of our hotels and in many of the cities we had visited.

We also agreed that there were problems ahead. We had experienced the smog, especially during the nights in the cities when coal burning intensified to heat houses and cook meals. We had been appraised of the unprecedented migration that was underway in China. The displacement of 1.4 million people because of the building of the Three Gorges Dam was minor when compared to the 300 million who would migrate from the rural areas into the cities in the next fifteen years. Building the infrastructures alone will be a major challenge comparable to the building of the Great Wall, but in much, much less time.

We were also aware of soil-erosion problems in the countryside, especially in the northern part of China, that will threaten the food supply as much as the huge loss of farmers in the coming decades. We also discussed the plight of the have-nots. Most were farmers who were taking up the menial jobs in the factories and cities. We had witnessed a lot of optimism in the people who were quickly moving up from menial jobs to higher ones-or to their own businesses. We had heard the farmers were aware the people in the cities had meat in their daily diets as well as alcohol-heady incentives for the emigrants. Would these migrants succumb to the same plight as Sister Carrie experienced in Dreiser's novel, as she was drawn to window displays of consumer products in Chicago "like a fly to a lightbulb?"

The demands that on natural resources around the world stagger the imagination and call for restraint on the part of all competing constituencies. Americans should lead the way to less consumption and more conservation, since we have taken the lion's share of natural resources in the past. We also still have the dominant market that could champion patterns of life that will conserve natural resources and result in more fulfilling lives. More mass transit and denser housing with schools, parks and marketplaces in close proximity would be a good beginning.

One consoling thought is that the Chinese people have Confucianism, which guides them yet. This philosophy has several tenets that bodes well for the future: Patience, pacifism, compromise, and above all a mellow humanism that places the people at the center of the universe, thus making them responsible for the care of themselves and their environment.

To me, the last decades of Chinese history were much like the history of the United States after the Great Depression of the '30s, when a huge middle class of consumers was created. America, through federal and state government investments, had built its interstate freeway system, city infrastructures, hydroelectric dams, ports, and airports in much the same way as China is doing now. These investments by the United States government paved the way for the dramatic rise in the automobile, oil, manufacturing and construction industries, and reached its zenith in suburbia. In China the emphasis in government investment seems to be more in the direction of density and life-sustaining amenities within close proximity, to create a sense of village life in metropolitan areas. How this unravels in practice, especially with the Special Economic Zones, is yet to be determined.

Helen and I spent our last morning in Shanghai on a leisurely stroll. We saw alleyways that held lower-floor businesses (bike and shoe repair shops, delis and small cafes) and upper-floor apartments. We ventured into streets that were bordered by thick pillars and walls that sheltered private, modern homes with tile roofs and small upper-floor balconies. We peeked through metal-framed gateways and saw luxury cars and beautifully manicured lawns. Going back to our hotel, we met bicyclists and farmers pulling carts of goods in auto filled streets, all vying for position and generally ignoring traffic lights. The traffic flowed, however, with few incidents.

The contrasts filled our eyes and minds. We were saying goodbye to a most fulfilling journey. We talked about the apprehensions of some Americans who would not travel to China or read about it, and we feared the stereotypes and misapprehensions of these people who were nurtured on Manichean concepts. We boarded the bus where Joy and Jay greeted us-somewhat sadly I think, for we were taking our last bus ride. On the way Jay pointed out the magnetic levitation train that hurled past us towards the airport. It was travelling at nearly 300 miles per hour and would take eight minutes to traverse the 20 miles from Shanghai's inner city. It would take us nearly an hour in fairly heavy traffic. On both sides of the freeway we saw countless apartment buildings on one side, and business, warehouse and manufacturing structures on the other.

At the airport Jay said her goodbyes, but Joy, our indefatiqueable guide who had merited the appellation "Mother" by many in the group, stayed with us through customs, making sure that each of us passed muster at the departure gate. We turned in our customs forms, but no baggage was searched. We deposited our luggage and went to the waiting room for our departure flight to Los Angeles.

We would have plenty of time to ponder what we had seen, heard, tasted and experienced. We had proved to be a concerned but moderate group, without the extremes of Chaucer's pilgrims. Perhaps this bodes well for America in general. Most of us agreed we would travel again to China soon.

© 2006 Belltown Messenger