Food and Jenga

9.4.2010

I was just about to go out to have a little walking adventure in Jing’an district—which is known for its elitist populous and fu-fu shops and restaurants—but right as I walked out the front gate the heavens opened up and the monsoon from the Fuzhou arrived and poured rain. Thick drops of rain fell from the sky in all directions at my body. I walked down the block thinking it would let up but by the time I reached the other end I was SOAKED. People in cars and busses pointed and laughed at the drenched white kid. This was a bad sign I thought and I turned around and headed back to the apartment.
I guess instead of heading out, I should reflect on the past 24 hours or so because they have the best insight to the awesome adrenaline feed that I have gotten from this city’s night life:
After waking up at a considerably lazy hour Kevin Marx and I finally found enough motivation to head over to Shanghai School of Finance’ recreational field and kick the ball around a little bit. When we got to the field the gates were locked and we decided to wait for someone to open it. We headed to the basketball court where China’s new found pastime is quickly being developed. Marx really wanted to play and when he begged Kevin and I to join him we looked at him with about as much desire to play meatball as two cats about to be bathed. Luckily for the both of us Marx didn’t have a ball and no one invited us to their pickup games.
When the clock struck four we decided to see if the gates were unlocked. They weren’t and we opted to hop the steel bared fence and break into to the astro turf ground. Within no time we were kicking the ball at each other, in the net and down the field. Another pair of Chinese soccer boots showed up and after they had warmed up we challenged them to some two on two. They were pretty good but Kevin was once drafted for the US armature national team and we Americans were better. I fed him the ball and we found it easy to beat their off side trap. Kevin tapped it into the net almost every time. The heat was exhausting though and even in the late afternoon shade we sweat profously. Once the game was over we talked to our opponents and found out that we might be eligible to try out for the SUFE soccer team. That would be fun!
After soccer we got cleaned up and headed out to eat at our favorite Hunan restaurant down the block a ways. The place was packed and we waited for almost 40 minutes. We were starving but the wait was totally worth it. We had plates of stewed cabbage, peppered beef, rabbit kabobs, and sweet tomatoes—it was the definition of divine. The entire meal was flavored just perfectly with a pepper that is so, so tasty and just perfectly spicy. Kevin and I will become regulars at this place in no time.
After dinner most of the people from our program came over to our room to celebrate someone’s birthday party. It was loud, slightly obnoxious and very American; exactly like being at a party at home.
Closer to midnight I got in a cab with some people and we headed to the good side of the French Concessions. We went into a few bars before we ended up meeting more people we know at a bar called Logo. Inside the place was packed and the dance music kept hot bodies cozy. It was interesting to look around. On the walls they played animated Disney movies and had a light show. The place was about half foreigners and half Chinese people. My group laughed at one French guy who with his long black beard, dread locks and bled mascara looked like Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean.
Next we hit up a “pub” close by which was a total mistake and we then went to a place called Dada (the two syllable thing is the trend right now). This bar was the place. The music was even better: the DJ who was from Maine spun music from genres that will only become popular in the coming years. We drank mixed drinks and sat in a booth and played Jenga while the whole dance floor thumped. When we could not contain our North American animo and we found ourselves lighting up the dance floor.
We stopped in one last bar but were turned off by the expensive glasses of scotch, the dim light and the hokey lounge band—not to mention they didn’t have any food. We had no other choice but to abruptly end our self designed pub crawl and head back up north.
We ate at a restaurant downstairs which lets you pick out what you want to be grilled on the open flame. I chose a skewer of chicken, one of lamb, one of beef and one of tree mushroom. They were all excellent but the tree mushrooms really stood out in my mind. When it was all over I climbed the elevator into my cozy hovel in the quiet part of the big city.