At a local noodle house in Shanghai’s Jing An district, two friends go out for a bite.
The video shows a man seated at the table with his best friend, a squirrel on a leash. The squirrel tries to go introduce himself to the customer seated at the next table, before being guided back onto his friend’s shoulder, where he scampers around like a pirate’s parrot.
We can confirm that the pair was met with no opposition from the restaurant staff, who presented the bowl of noodles to the man and squirrel without a second glance. They did not offer nuts.
Today is Go Skateboarding Day, and we would be remiss if we didn’t give some kind of acknowledgment. This is a photo series called Life of a Skateboard (滑板的生活), which offers a glimpse into a day as one of the city’s skaters.
I took this series of “portraits” of my own board in Shanghai. In Pudong on the east side of the Huangpu River, I was using this board to get where I needed to go every day. Eventually it grew from a simple mode of transportation into a lens through which to view and interact with the city. Pudong is more residential than the bustling west side of the river (Puxi), and skating through the area I got to know a recurring cast of characters. This photo series cuts me out of the equation, offering the viewer that same experience I had, alone in Pudong on this Chinese skateboard, +C vitamin soda in hand, getting to know some of those characters.
Originally shown in an exhibition on Century Avenue, these photos are now made available here to celebrate Go Skateboarding Day, and the country’s growing skate community.
Let’s answer your questions first about this video that People’s Daily just uploaded to its YouTube page, titled “Chinese PLA female soldiers show off their swag dance moves”:
1. No, I don’t know what’s going on here.
2. I said no.
3. PLA stands for People’s Liberation Army.
4. No!
5. That would be Welsh singer/songwriter Samuel Evanson — Ice Cold.
6. Actually, I really don’t know if that’s an appropriate use of the word “swag.” Let’s see what Urban Dictionary has to say…
The latest issue of TheEconomisthas a long profile of the elephant that makes a convincing case of the species as a mirror for human society. Not much of it is new reporting, but it’s gripping stuff nonetheless. Some highlights:
…human beings aside, no species on Earth has a more complex society than that of elephants. And elephant society does indeed have parallels with the way humans lived before the invention of agriculture.
Elephants have large hippocampuses — 40 percent bigger than humans — which means they really do have good memories, which they need in order to function in group settings:
…a clan will usually have at least 100 adult members, and may have twice that, this means an adult (an adult female, at least) can recognise and have meaningful social relations with that many other individuals.
A figure of between 100 and 200 acquaintances is similar to the number of people with whom a human being can maintain a meaningful social relationship—a value known as Dunbar’s number, after Robin Dunbar, the psychologist who proposed it. Dunbar’s number for people is about 150.
They are among a very small number of species capable of abstract thinking:
…experiments conducted on domesticated Asian elephants (easier to deal with than African ones) show that they can use novel objects as tools to obtain out-of-reach food without trial and error beforehand.
Elephants have a very particular — one might say human — reaction to the dead:
Elephant corpses are centres of attraction for living elephants. They will visit them repeatedly, sniffing them with their trunks and rumbling as they do so.
The connection to China, while pushed to the very end of the article, is nonetheless crucial.
By the end of this year, all ivory sales will be banned in this country, a development that just might save the elephant from its biggest enemy: human poachers.
From The Economist:
Already, the price of the stuff in China has come down by two-thirds, from a peak of $2,100 a kilogram in 2014 to $730 earlier this year. That is bad news for smugglers, and for the poachers who supply them. If the Chinese ban really does stick, rather than driving the trade underground, then it is just possible that historians of the future will record 2017 as having been the year of the elephant.
Last week China shut down 67 ivory facilities, which includes 12 of 35 ivory carving facilities and 55 of 130 ivory shops, with plans to shut down all of these facilities by 2018. Besides the closure of its ivory market, the report suggests China’s crackdown on illegal ivory and economic slowdown, as well as a general increase in awareness about elephant poaching and ivory, have helped drive the price of ivory down. That mix of events, while a detriment to the livelihoods of those in the ivory business, is precisely what needs to happen in order to help stop poaching, elephant advocates say.
…
“China must be encouraged for doing the right thing,” says Resson Kantai Duff of Save the Elephants. “There is still a long way to go to end the excessive killing of elephants for ivory, but there is now greater hope for the species. China has shown great leadership, and deserves commendation.”
These are good developments. Listen to Yao Ming, people: “When the buying stops, the killing can too.”
About nine years ago, a few friends of mine had the idea of leading hikes and camping trips up to one of the unrestored — i.e. “wild” — sections of the Great Wall, called Jiankou. Translated as “Arrow’s Nock,” it’s located north of Beijing, built on jagged cliffs and ridges during the late years of the Ming Dynasty in the 17th century. Due to its steepness and the fact that many parts are in disrepair, it attracts far fewer visitors than other parts of the Wall, such as the tourist-friendly Mutianyu section about six miles to the east. I went with them once, navigating precipitous stairs overlooking mountains and valleys and taking in some of the most breathtaking scenery Beijing has to offer.
Of course, it was also dangerous. Not too long before our trip, a couple of hikers had died there, leading villagers to caution all passersby. This part of the Wall has never been officially “open” to the public. Although what that actually means isn’t exactly clear, what is true is that Jiankou isn’t for everybody, certainly not the old or young who would, for instance, have trouble going up or down these stairs at a 75-degree incline:
I wonder if all that will soon change, thanks to restorations happening as we speak.
Reuters published a story yesterday called Rebuilding the Great Wall of China, featuring several stunning photographs of local efforts — which began in 2005 — to restore Jiankou. I know what you’re thinking: they’re going to ruin it. But I’m willing to withhold judgment for now: reportedly, only basic tools are being used, such as chisels, hammers, pickaxes and shovels, and pack mules are employed to transport bricks that are made to “exacting specifications.”
“We have to stick to the original format, the original material and the original craftsmanship, so that we can better preserve the historical and cultural values,” said Cheng Yongmao, the engineer leading Jiankou’s restoration.
Cheng, 61, who has repaired 17 km (11 miles) of the Great Wall since 2003, belongs to the 16th generation in a long line of traditional brick makers.
It’s possible that the government has learned from past mistakes. Just last year, for instance —
Authorities in the northeastern province of Liaoning, home to a 700-year-old section of the wall, paved its ramparts with sand and cement, resulting in what critics said looked more like a pedestrian pavement.
Soon after those disastrous repairs, the State Administration of Cultural Heritage said it would investigate any improperly executed wall preservation projects.
Of course, if this goes as planned, Jiankou will no longer be the quiet, remote site whose desolate beauty so impressed me when I visited in 2009. Tourists will come, you can bet on that (as they have in increasing numbers every year since the start of my friends’ now-defunct business). I’m not exactly dismayed, because in China good things are never kept secret for long. But I am growing a little wistful.
