Two years ago, I spent six weeks of the summer in Paris on an
intensive program for Art History majors. My long days were spent in museums
absorbing as much art as I could handle. Nights spent in the Tuileries gardens
devouring macaroons like candy. I was only 18 and a sponge to Parisian culture.
Being in Shanghai makes that summer seem so far away. The
macaroons replaced by street noodles, museums replaced by the congested metro. In
Paris, I lived a lavish life; a vacation from normalcy. While now, I was in a
developing country unsure of what I was doing and unable to communicate.
...Was I safe?
In Paris yelling “au secours” was enough to get anyone’s
attention, even during a gang fight. Shanghai is so noisy.
Scooters whirring past. Elevated highways with cars zooming. Taxis honking.
It’s hard to distinguish talking from yelling, it all sounds the same. Everyone
demanding to be heard. Would anyone hear me scream? In pain? Terror? How do you
pronounce the world help again?
帮助 Bāngzhù
The other day I was walking along Changshu Lu and saw a
woman hit by a bicyclist while on the sidewalk. She tumbled off the curb and
onto the road. She lay there, groaning in pain, while no one helped. Onlookers
did not stop themselves from watching her. She was expected to pick herself up.
It shocked me that no one cared to assist her, but looking back I realize I
didn’t either.
Maybe I’m assimilating better than I thought.
I think your blog is very creative. The contrasting colors of the dark gray background to the bright pops of your pictures, really draws the reader in. The use of Chinese lettering toward the end was a great way to add a bit of that culture. By looking at your pictures I feel that I was there with you on your adventure. Throughout the story I was engaged. I wanted to know what happened. In the end, when a bicyclist hit the older lady and no one went to help her, made me realize the point of your title. “Juxtaposition” is the perfect word to describe the phenomena that happened on the streets. There were so many people that were able bodied to help, but at the same time, no one did. By the way you explained that you also walked past made me feel empathy for her. Not only did strangers, who we don’t know not help, but also you, the narrator. Your question, “Was I safe?” registers with me because I feel that most people in their lifetimes have felt this sense of loneliness and a loss of their security blanket. The picture of the signs is a great way to let the reader understand the culture in Shanghai. The image of a trumpet crossed out is funny, however it is meant for a certain meaning. The spacing of the text and the pictures creates a storybook feel. As I scrolled down the page, I would come across a picture and a snip-it of your story that related to it in some way, not necessarily the most obvious meaning. When you end the story with, “I realize I didn’t either,” it makes me feel that I am reading a diary of someone who lives there. Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed your blog post.
ReplyDelete