One of the best things to do when flying long haul to the Americas form Asia on an airline like China Eastern is to venture out of the 'transit area' (the transit area is virtually non existent anyway) and into the airline's home city, Shanghai.
I've always known Shanghai to be a polluted, noisy and even a messy city but a trip to the city in the early hours of the morning had me re-looking my assumptions again.
Security at the airport was tight but polite and efficient and in no time we found ourselves free of airport red tape and in the upper lobby of the maglev station waiting for the 7:02am train.
This is the mighty maglev that took us from the airport to Loyang station in less than eight minutes at an impressive 300km/h!
There was no excessive honking, smoke and pollution. Only peaceful parks with elderly men and women suited in variety of sportswear performing their morning exercise with fierce intensity.
Against a backdrop of financial success, a lone middle-aged lady executes her version of Taijiquan (Chinese Shadow Boxing), in a well-manicured garden oblivious to passersby.
Perhaps it is such intensity, drive, focus and discipline that has propelled the Chinese forward so quickly in recent economic times.
The old city of Shanghai is a huge village centre decked out in Chinese decorations most likely for The Chinese New Year - the singular most important event in the Chinese calendar.
In a stark contrast, Gungdong Road with its grand and mighty colonial buildings, makes one feel as though they have been transported to Europe. The British may have left Shanghai but certainly not without leaving their mark behind. These buildings have been preserved and protected, main charaters of Shanghai's legacy.
Across the street, sits the beautiful bund by the Hangpu river.
It was 9am, and the sun had barely risen. The skies were overcast and a thick fog seemed to be hanging in the air even though there was hardly any pollution. The overcast sky had its way of diffusing the morning sun's rays making it seem like dusk was descending upon the city after a long day. There was no freshness in the air, but there was tranquillity and calm.
We were all equally amazed by Shanghai city, never had we expect that it would be so beautiful and so simple.
How could a city be so modern, so Western, so European and so Chinese at the same time?
I was to be answered by a taxi driver on our way back to Loyang station.
It was not. Shanghai was Chinese through and through, he insisted.
"The hours are long, and we are poor, we struggle to make an ends meet, not like you people who get to travel" he lamented, "but we are Han Ren (Han people) and even you, he gestured towards us, "even though you are from Singapore, your ancestors were from here. You are Han Ren too. Every Chinese is a Han Ren. The Han Ren are strong and the Han blood flows through the world."
Tell that to Singaporeans! I thought. Not many Chinese Singaporeans associate themselves with China, in fact, many Chinese Singaporeans take pains to disassociate themselves with a country that has gained a lot of bad rapt for citizens with crass manners (by which they actually mean manners that are not in line with those of the West) and a government who believes in censorship.
Our driver then persuaded us to allow him to drive us to Pudong airport rather than Loyang station. "Why take the maglev train, paying 80RMB for return tickets when I'll drive you there in less than 45 minutes for 240RM. Much more cheap!" he offered.
We declined his offer, we had already bought return tickets and we needed to catch our flight! we reasoned.
He seemed annoyed and disgruntled, "I haven't even taken the maglev before. No one I know has enough money to take the maglev, even the taxi is sometimes beyond the means of my friends. We are destined to a poor life like this."
Perhaps we were not good conversationalist and did not provide the sympathy he was looking for. Instead, we tried to convince him that there were different problems to living in Singapore as well, that everywhere, people were suffering and feeling disgruntled, Han Ren or not. But I suppose these were not words he wanted to hear. And we might have earned his ire, even though we were also Han Ren.
It was only on the maglev towards Pudong airport that his words hit home a little further. I noticed an immaculately dressed maglev train officer stopping by a seat to empty a full bin - the unglamorous aspect of an otherwise glamorous job. Curious, I peered closely, my wondering eyes leading me to the blue linen that was pulled over each seat.
I noticed yellowed spots - signs of age, cracks in the surface, signifiers of the masses, people whose homes were destroyed, who had been evicted by the authorities and under-compensated in a attempt to re-build a modern clean, image of Shanghai as it presented itself to the world in the 2008 Beijing Olympics and more recently, the 2010 Shanghai World Expo. Were these people, my fellow "Han Ren" hiding under the blanket of modernity? Where were they hiding?
As it is hard for the middle-class, educated Singaporean to understand the problems the poor in Singapore face, it is even harder for a traveller to climb into foreign skin and walk around in it - Shanghai was beautiful, but the Real shanghai was buried beyond our reach.
