Just saw this poster advertising the opportunity to purchase a house on a small Malaysian island next to Singapore. The houses are relatively large and the agent is conveniently located in Shenzhen. The appeal? One can “[R]eturn to Shenzhen ten years ago, and invest in the Special Zone of a Special Zone.”
Here’s the rub. I saw this in an apartment complex in Dalang, at least twenty minutes from the nearest subway station. Everyone wants to by a house, and even places as relatively remote as Dalang are no longer viable options for migrants, even if they have a job, and even if they have savings.
On my way from said subway station to the elevator where this advert was posted, the cabby explained that since Lift (didi) and Uber had come to Shenzhen, it was no longer profitable to drive a cab. He planned on going back home to Jiangxi. When I mentioned that it seemed more and more people were leaving the city, he agreed, saying “there noticeably less people on the street.”
Back in the day — and a good fifteen years ago it was — Shenzhen University gave me toilet paper and toothpaste, economy sized bottles of shampoo and other necessities as part of my new year’s bonus. This year, they gave an impressively health conscious and self-consciously environmental package of whole grains, legumes, and two bottles of Spanish olive oil. In addition, they included a shopping cart that has a map of the university campus printed on its sack and two coffee cups. I used to think, “What the f—?” upon receiving a sleeve of 10 rolls of toilet paper. But now I’m happy to receive such plenty, especially because neither organic grains nor imported olive oil come cheap. Thus, it is perhaps worth noting that the economic conditions of the imagined university community have shifted into familiar territory. Shenzhen University teachers and staff imagine themselves to be and engage society as full on members of an enlightened, cosmopolitan middle class. And that’s point du jour: our paths cross in the fantasy land of neoliberal desire because as a child of the Jersey suburbs, I still live there, no matter where my body might physically be located.
The other day, the department secretary attempted to mail copies of Architectural Worlds and two packs of playing cards to a friend in Switzerland. The journal went through, however, the cards did not. The reason given was that it is illegal to send playing cards through the post because they are used for gambling. Who knew?
It is legal to print, transport, and sell playing cards in China. Indeed, there are decks designed specifically for collectors. But there are no decks of cards in Chinese post offices — except perhaps for those in the hands of postal workers who are relaxing over a game or two!
According to Item 37 of the Chinese Postal Code (第三十七条 任何单位和个人不得利用邮件寄递含有下列内容的物品) the list of seven types of materials that cannot be mailed are: (1) treasonous materials; (2) state secrets; (3) false information that contributes to social unrest; (4) materials that inflame inter-ethnic hatred; (5) propaganda on behalf of cults or superstitions; (6) smut, gambling, and terrorist materials, and (7) any other content that is not in compliance with Chinese law. The complete postal code, along with the list of items that cannot be shipped in the Chinese post is online.
today was the 15th of the 10 month of the lunar calendar, so i did what all good girls do – went temple hopping. chiwan is one of the natural harbors that constitute the port of shenzhen. before reform, chiwan could only be reached by way of a boat launched from shekou, heading north up the pearl river. today, chiwan is easily accessible by the 226 or 355, but still retains something of a backwater feel. indeed, chiwan has the scruffy feel of a potentially hip artist colony, except for the lack of artists and the vanishing coastline.
that said, chiwan is fun because it also boasts some of the oldest sites in shenzhen – the tianhou temple (technically the oldest in the area. zheng he reputedly stopped here, and emperors from the ming and qing gifted stele to commemorate upgrades and rennovations (!) to the temple). chiwan is also site of the grave of the last song emperor – a child who was drown with and by a loyal follower so he would not be dishonored by the yuan. the little emperor’s tomb is maintained by the zhao family.
had one of those delicious afternoons when the beauty despite blossomed. more snaps of shenzhen university trees, here.
Poet Steven Schroeder and I have collaborated to create A Walk in Shenzhen II. The original Walk took place four years ago, 2005.