The Shanghai World Expo

9.11.10

There were a lot of people, other than that, it was great…



….
The day started as a drizzly Saturday morning. Kevin and I thought we could outsmart the crowds and visit the expo on a day that was overrun with monsoon downpours. We would soon be out outsmarted ourselves by hundreds of thousands of other die-hard tourists.
We took a moto-taxi to the metro stop half a mile away. A moto-taxi is the newest version of a rickshaw. It is a motorcycle up front and a two seat tricycle in back. On the streets this contraption is absolutely terrifying experience as the amped up driver jolts around traffic going in the bike lane and in oncoming traffic. I paid the driver five kuai for getting us to the station alive and we submerged to the underground.
It was a long train ride on the worlds most expansive metro system—it took us maybe 40 minutes to get to the Expo’s gates. When we arrived there was a lot of walking around huge crowd control fixtures that are the metal barriers to keep people in long curving lines. We bought student tickets for 100 kuai (about 15 bucks) and then proceeded to the Expo’s own metro line. Still there were not too many people and Kevin and I thought that maybe we did actually outsmart the crowds. On the train over the overhead TV read that there were some 350,000 people at the event—I hoped they had room for two more.
After getting frisked at security and walking through many ticket lines we emerged to find the expo grounds. The first thing that we saw was the Australian pavilion. “What the hell is that?” “oh shit, it’s the line.” People wrapped around the pavilion building, hundreds of people long, the wait must have been at least three hours. We had not found a way to beat the crowd but we were about to see what 400,000 people look like!
Having no idea where we were , we explored the pavilions that lied around for a little while. We were in the Oceana square and we bypassed the New Zealand and Indonesian pavilion to the get in the much shorter line at the Brunei site. Because it was our first stop on the day, it was shockingly interesting and simple all at the same time. We walked into the architecturally immaculate oversized shack to find a lame display of what Brunei is about. There would be a picture of a traditional instrument or article of clothing with a terse half paragraph of explanation. For not having too much intellectual depth, the building was certainly beautiful and I can say that the most interesting part of this exhibit was the floor design—milky neon lit glass made to look like opal.
We continued our prowl to the European section. Kevin wanted to go to every site that didn’t have much of a line but given I have no real interest in seeing what Slovakia has been doing with itself for the past four years I acted as the filter; I wasn’t about to wait in line for nothing. We waited about five minutes to get into the rat-packed Czech Republic exhibit. Inside we saw sophisticated science fair like displays of how Czech people are finding the first cures for AIDS and how their scientists have been able to the view the molecular formations of certain fabrics. On the ceilings were works of art—so crowds wouldn’t overrun the sights. In one such display a civic formation was created from discarded electronic equipment—it was pretty cool. I had a lot of respect for the Czech pavilion, they had put a lot of money into displaying what’s going on in their country. The only thing is, I think my respect was unshared by the hundreds of Chinese tourists who trampled the sight. It was becoming clear that most people coming in were only there for the most basic of photo opts and to get their Expo passports stamped (you can buy a Passport and get a stamp from every pavilion—lame).
We breathed oxygen outside then continued on to a collection of countries from the Balkans. The pavilions for Macedonia and Albania had small lines and were surrounded by some bullshit countries like the Republic of San Marino. Once again these places were low on info, high on pizzazz. In a very sophisticated manor the countries’ greatest touristic sights were outlined. Many people in line in front of us bolted through the exhibits, got their Expo passports stamped and ran outside for the next pavilion. The crowds were already getting to me.
Next up was the Swedish pavilion, which according to other visitors was one of the highlights of the Expo. We waited in line for an hour and defended our spot the entire way in; people tried to cut us the entire way in. The pavilion was a two-storied architectural masterpiece. The first thing I noticed was a giant picture of happy Scandinavians playing ping pong as if to say “hey china, we play ping pong in our country too.” The first exhibit showed how the Swedish government created livable neighborhoods and bountiful wilderness from on land that was once ecologically destroyed. There were more colors and pictures and the Chinese swarm around us seemed to pay more attention to what was being presented. For a country that doesn’t have Wikipedia (P.R. China), learning about the outside world in the World Expo is such an eye opening experience. My Chinese friends who are all studying for their masters at the MIT of China (SUFE) know very little about the cultural traits of other nations, not like students in the U.S. might. Thus, the Expo is a good way get a feel for the world around the middle kingdom.
We entered in the main display area where IKEA furniture was bolted to the ceiling to be displayed for all to see (the main corporate sponsor was IKEA after all). Kevin, who never officially has been to Europe was enthralled by what Sweden has to offer. To me, it was like going to my fatherland for a few minutes and examining the best moving parts of Swedish society; after all I already know that Sweden is a Utopia of sorts.
After stopping in the gift shop to buy the coolest t-shirt memorabilia ever, we saw a hipster group of neo-electronic musicians outside. They were dressed in black and purple spandex and looked hilarious. When they were warming up to perform the drummer hit himself in the sweet-spot trying to jump on to his band member’s shoulders—that was also hilarious. They sang with synthesizers and electronic beats. We left the pavilion and felt like such losers for not being Swedish—how come our country sucks so much more?
Hungry and sick of lines we had to find some food. I was hopeful that outside of the Belgian pavilion there would be a beer garden with cheap plates but a downpour was just starting and this was no time to enjoy the outdoor air.
We headed for the Spanish pavilion which most everyone has said “this was the place” to see. The beautiful building was in a wave like pattern and dressed with 6x4 wicker panels. It looked so modern, yet so classy—100% Spanish. The line was more intense than expected and people stretched around the block to get inside and see the giant baby sculpture that was built for the pavilion. It was raining outside but you could feel the humid warmth of sweating bodies stopped in tandem behind the crowd controlled gates. Too much waiting, too many people, we headed for the café for some grubb. We were soaked but we were warmly greeted by a well dressed Galician and given a spot in the café that had the same feeling as a the Guggenheim. Looking over the menu of overpriced typical dishes from all over Iberia the sommelier came out of nowhere and explained the wine list in Spanish. “Yo quiero dos de esto” and he went back to retrieve whatever the hell I ordered. At this time I realized that at some point I should spruce up my Spanish skills a little more so I can utilize a more elegant lexicon. The bow tied Spaniard came back with two glasses of white sherry and pour them in a theatrical manner. He assured me that this would be similar to what we drink in California but he was completely and totally wrong. The sherry was acidic and strong but cool and refreshing. I ate stuffed peppers with bits of cod mixed in and Kevin had some Spanish meat balls. In a typical Spanish way we stayed about an hour and a half and sipped coffee after our minimeal. We were drying off and soaking up the calmingly classy atmosphere. I always love Spain.
After we emptied our pocket books on the café lunch, we started our map-less search for the American expo. Walking clear to hell we finally found the giant pavilion at the end of the expo sight. Along the way we walked through the Africa building. If your country does not have enough money to fund its own pavilion you can slap together a room of colorful flags, maps and pictures of your dictator in one of the three or four massive display buildings. The African exhibit was a tacky mess of fake rainforests and portraits of Robert Mungabe. It was also filled with Chinese people but we made our way through to the Americas square and the good old USA.
We walked around the pavilion and scoped for a freedom loving countryman to let us through the velvet rope. Kevin and I found secret servicemen enjoying a cigarette who assured us the line would only take half an hour. As we were talking to him a group of Frenchmen asked us if they could piggyback inside the pavilion on our American IDs. “Yeah whatever” we said. We headed for the line and found it to be unbearably long so Kevin poked to the front of the VIP and disabled line found some American insiders and begged them to let us in. I waited at the end of the glob, hopeful that the seas would part and let me, Kevin and the Frenchmen in but after waiting about 10 minutes, Kevin came back and said that a guy who went to school in New England would let us in if we walked to the other side of the line. No Frenchmen allowed though.
We met a middle 20s pavilion worker and bypassed a three hour line of dizzy Chinese people. Inside the movie had just begun—Americans play movies rather than having a showy display. The first section of the film was a series of shots taken of everyday Americans trying to learn to say a few words in Chinese. The rest of the movie was a welcoming message in Chinese from real Americans who could actually speak the language. Once the film was over a woman with fiery red hair announced in Chinese that we should walk to the next room. In the next room we watched a movie that featured Kobe Bryant, Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama (people snapped photos when the prez came on). The film gave off the message that America is a place where new ideas are born and grow. It was full of hope and multiethnic people. In the last cinema room we watched an interactive movie (there was rain and simulated earthquakes) with some lame message of “we can do it together”. The presentation was very American—overly dramatic, heavy on the special effects, heavy on the sappy messages and idealistic in every sense of the word. It was a well orchestrated attempt to send the message “Yeah China, we got this.”
--Oh and Dad, there was a section in the movie interviewing a Chinese American who worked for a potato farm in Inner Mongolia owned by Pepsi co.
After the movies was a room filled with presentation booths from all the corporate sponsors. According to everyone else, the pavilion was dangerously underfunded but apparently every major US company from Boeing to Disney to Chevron chipped in to made sure that America is number 1. In the sponsors lobby Chinese people demanded they take pictures with Kevin and I (we were the only white people in the 500 person mass) and we talked to the guy who let us in. He told us that the pavilion was only staffed with Americans who speak Chinese fluently.
When everything was over at the American pavilion we headed over to the Latin American building. In it was most small Latin American countries. We stopped at the first booth—Ecuador. We scoped to see if there were any empanadas but we were disappointed. Everything in the booth was right out of the Guayaquil International Airport gift store except for the cumbia band that played. Kevin and I talked with the leader of the group. He was from Otavalo—the market city—and he said that there weren’t too many Ecuadorians that he had run into in Shanghai. We were given Ecuadorian flags and we left.
The final stop we made was in the Uruguay room. They had pictures of blond Latinos enjoying the beautiful South American country. I had to have my picture taken with a life sized image of the soccer great Diego Forlan.
We tried in vain to get into the Canadian pavilion but the skinny, bearded Canuck bouncers at the door would not allow Kevin to prove his Canadian residency. Kevin lives in Toronto for part of the year but forgot his fake McGill student ID at home.
Totally worn out from the massive crowd we walked through expo looking for the metro out. We got lost and it took us a long time to finally get out. That night I was exhausted but my friends made me go out to a Canadian bar where I hung out with some Mexicans and other American students. The Expo was a cool place and I would like to go back if I have any more patients and money but it still remains true that Shanghai is a very international city—Expo or not.