waiting to be

shanghai, as with most big cities, is never quiet, never quite still. plopping down in the middle of a bustling city is not what you would imagine for the perfect contemplative moment. but as with any place you live for a while, you come to appreciate its charms, its smells, and even its bustle. and soon, you come to find the quiet niches that tuck themselves away like stolen moments with a lover.

5pm in shanghai is just such a moment; a hidden quietness in the midst of chaos, a gentle blush of color before a crushing dawn. at 5pm, most aren't home from work and those who don't work are at home preparing food for the evening meal. things slow almost imperceptibly. the streets go vaguely quiet, seeming briefly serene.

i walked into an eerily empty restaurant to have some dinner. after picking up my own menu, i took it back outside to read a book and wait for my food in the waning light of a beautiful spring day. hardly more than 2 or 3 people passed and they seemed as much lost in their wandering as i was in the pages of my book. and just when the air chilled enough to stiffen my fingers around the pages of my book a few small, steady changes began.

the local dvd sellers wheeled up their cart for the night's work. they began to unpack piles of movies and tv shows and lined them up down the sidewalk. it seemed strangely cathartic to see them setting up rather than happening upon them after they've magically appeared. i took it as my cue to wander home. it's often in that quiet walk toward the comfort of home that my mind usually wanders. letting my thoughts drift lightly from idea to idea...never really staying long in one place.

crossing the street, i looked up to see the sun setting. it wasn't dazzling or brilliant. in fact, it was rather ordinary. the sun was a full, clear, yellow-orange, resting gently atop the city skyline. and for just a moment...the city seemed still. the bright calmness of it mesmerized me for a few moments. then i continued my walk home. continued watching the shanghai night unfold. more and more vendors were rolling up to take their places along the street. there were 2 or 3 dvd sellers in a row just beside someone selling english cd's. these were followed by a strange assortment of items for purchase, cheap toys, baskets and wooden boxes, specialty cigarettes and cigars, books, fake wallets and multiple flower peddlars selling their wares from the backs of bikes. but no one was asking you to buy anything. no one was shopping. there was barely the hint of a word. people just moved about quietly setting up in preparation. half empty blankets and cardboard boxes waited to hold the promised merchandise.

further down the street a somewhat pleasing aroma of grilled meat and vegetables caught up to me. food vendors were setting up on either corner by my apartment selling assorted fresh meats, vegetables, and sweets to be grilled and sauted over searing flame and ash. their long heavy tables were strewn with food in every color and shape you can imagine that drew me in to almost buy something except that i was still much too full from my dinner. these street chefs pulled out numerous plastic tables and chairs, as if they'd pulled them from some baltimore city backyard bbq, and set them out on the sidewalks and by the curb of the street, making ready for the evening's diners.

shanghai is a city of extremes, of opposites, of eccentricities. it's sometimes a place that defies reason. it exudes an air of ancient history and modern progress in a mingled and pungent odor that you can't quite escape even when you leave. and at 5pm, on an almost warm april evening, it is, like me, a city waiting to be...