 Leave a comment  personal  buddhism, china, culture, graphic, graphic shapes, hangzhou, personal, photo, photography, photojournalism, photos, religion, temple, 寺庙, 摄影, 文化, 杭州, 照片
Leave a comment personal china, desert, dunhuang, gansu province, graphic, graphic shapes, landscape, light, moon and stars, photo, photography, photojournalism, photos, sand dunes, silk road, sunset, travel, 摄影, 敦煌, 景色, 沙漠, 沙漠山, 照片, 甘肃省
“I’ve been coming here every weekend for two years but here is a low rate of success,” said the desperate mother shaking her head. “Some people come for four or five years but never find someone.” “My daughter went to England for study for seven years,” she continued. “When she came back it was already too late for her to find a boyfriend… She thinks that her time in England is worth it, but to me nothing is more important than starting a family.” The People’s Square Marriage Market is a Shanghai institution. Every Saturday and Sunday, hundreds of parents gather, regardless of the weather, clutching single sheets of paper that present their children in a few simple phrases – age, height, education, job, salary, whether they studied abroad and whether they own their own apartment.
“Female, born 1981, 1.62 meters tall, bachelors degree, project director at a foreign company, monthly salary above 10000 元, looking for someone born between 82 and 74, bachelors degree or above with a sense of responsibility for the family. “ While parents crowd around eager to talk to a foreign journalist, in the hopes that their children’s might have the opportunity to find a foreign partner, none of the parents are willing to give their real names or show their children’s faces in the media, most refuse to be photographed themselves. “My daughter doesn’t approve of me coming here. I stole this photo of her to bring to the market,” said the father who owns the sign pictured above. He has sent is 29-year-old daughter on 12 dates with men he found at the people’s square marriage market. “But it never works out,” he said, shaking his head.
“My son is too picky,” said this Shanghai native. “A lot of girls are interested in him, but he spent a lot of money studying in Stockholm for seven years and he doesn’t have his own house yet.” Despite the low rate of success at the market, parents maintain the hope that they will find a suitable match. “If I meet one suitable girl out of 100, I will have been successful,” the Shanghainese father.
However, a mother from northern China sees the problem in a different way. “Modern parents have very high demands for their children,” she said. “What the parents didn’t achieve they want for their children.” Her 28-year-old daughter, who is a project manager at a foreign company, thinks the fact that her mother comes to the marriage market is “embarrassing.” But there is a traditional idea that people must marry, her mother says. “If I die with my daughter unmarried, I cannot close my eyes.”  Photo Illustration: Zhang Wenjiang (张文江) next to his hand-made sign. While the average marriage market profile is a twenty or thirty something professional, with females vastly outnumbering males, there are always some who stand out from the crowd. “I made a special advert specifically because I don’t want to get lost in the crowd,” said Zhang Wenjiang (张文江), pictured here next to his sign holding his university graduation picture. The 73-year-old Shanghainese widower, who comes to the market almost every Saturday and Sunday, said he used to use agencies to try to find a new partner but they are only interested in profit. “It was hard to get the courage to come here,” he said. “I used to have a wife. She was very beautiful but she passed away. I don’t lack anything in life. I only lack someone to talk to in the evening.”
As we are talking, Zhang sees two women looking at his sign; he waves and beckons them over. The woman in question is 68, also from Shanghai. It is her first time visiting the market. They talk for about ten minutes and then swap contact details. Will the match work? “First we will talk as friends and see if we fit it each other,” said Zhang. “And then we will see.” If you want to go: Leave a comment editorial china, cnngo, community, culture, event, lifestyle, marriage market, photo, photography, photojournalism, photos, shanghai, single's culture, tourism, travel, 上海, 人民广场, 婚姻市场, 摄影, 文化, 照片, 相亲角 Climbing a steep set of stairs of this former Shikumen, we explore this half-shop, half-museum (the only place in China) dedicated to these musical marvels.  Tiantian Wang (王天天), left, and Xinyu Chen (陈鑫雨) try out some of the store’s music boxes. “Modern society is too busy, too complicated,” says Sky Music Box owner Leo Zhang (张杰). “It’s the simple things that really move people.” Every music box has a story, said Zhang. If looked after properly, they can keep working forever without the quality of music diminishing. Music boxes are often given as gifts, continued Zhang, but there is something about the simplicity and music of these boxes that profoundly moves both the giver and the receiver. Zhang recounts the story of a man who missed his flight back to Dalian waiting for the store to open so that he could buy a music box produced on the exact date his daughter was born. Zhang keeps a large book filled with comments from customers, pouring out their feelings about the store. One girl writes that she would marry any man who bought her a specific music box. One Saturday morning, Tiantian Wang (王天天) and Xinyu Chen (陈鑫雨), both 18, quietly walked around the store, listening to and watching in awe all the different boxes inside the little shop. Both the girls said they were given music boxes as gifts when they were children and would love to return the favor to others now that they are old enough to give gifts themselves.  Ningpeng Wen (温宁芃) left, and Chun Hu (胡醇) look at music boxes in the store. Ningpeng Wen, 16, and her friend Chen Hu, 17, held music boxes up to their ears and took pictures of themselves with the shop’s giant toy soldiers during their weekend visit to Shanghai, but the two girl’s weren’t interested in buying anything. “The boxes are too expensive for us to buy,” said Hu. “I am just here to look. The quality of the music is beautiful and the accuracy is so good.” This behavior is not frowned down upon by the store. While the year-old-store needs to remain economically viable, Zhang said the main aim is to showcase the beauty of music boxes. Not all the boxes in the shop are for sale. Speaking of one of his favorite pieces, Zhang said, “If I sell it only one person can enjoy it, but if I keep it in the shop many people can see it.” In his home, Zhang has several hundred music boxes, but he feels the shop is not a safe enough place to keep the most antique and valuable boxes. He said he hopes that the shop can expand in the future so that more people are able to discover the pure sound of simple music and the timeless beauty of the music box. After the interview, we asked Zhang to introduce some of his favorite music boxes in the store.
The Gramophone
The Loom-Spinner
Old Shanghai
The Christmas Cannonball
Snow White and the Seven Dwarves
The Pandas
The Ballerina How to get there:
Leave a comment personal china, culture, fashion, graphic, graphic shapes, high heels, lifestyle, photo, photography, photojournalism, photos, scenes, shanghai, shoes, shopping mall, street, women, 上海, 女人, 摄影, 文化, 照片, 高跟鞋
Goats rest outside a temple in Fatehpur Sikri, India.
A woman and boy wait with their goat at a bus stop in Jaisalmer, India. Mahjong (or 麻將, má jiàng) is a centuries old game that originated in China. In Shanghai, it is commonly played as a gambling game, with participants of all ages, sitting for long hours engrossed in their game. There is a Mahjiong house in the old housing development next to my apartment building. I visited one Saturday afternoon to find local residents wearing their pajamas, smoking cigarettes, drinking tea, eating noodles and playing Mahjong with their neighbors.
For CNNGo: Shanghai 
Hidden just to the south of Hongkou’s Lu Xun Park is a half-mile stretch of road bursting with historical and cultural significance. Duolun Cultural Street (多伦路文化名人街) was inaugurated in 1998 as an outdoor museum of 1920s-style architecture and a monument to the city’s literary history. It was here that the league of Leftist Writers was founded in 1930 and the street was a hub of a movement of revolutionary thought that included Chinese cultural celebrities such as LuXun, Xu Qiubai, Guo Moruo and Mao Dun. Life-size bronze statues depicting the famous individuals who form part of Duolun’s heritage, such as the statue of Rou Shi (柔石) (above), are found along the street. Rou Shi was one of the five martyrs of the Left Union killed by the Kuoming Dang in 1931.
The League of Leftist Writers Museum, located just off the main street at number 2, lane 201, preserves for posterity the hall in which the league was founded. The museum is open from 9 am to 11:30 am and 13:00 pm to 16 pm, Tuesday through Sunday.
Much of the street’s charm stems from the fact that life continues as normal inside this ‘living museum.’ Here maintenance work is carried out in front of the historic Kong residence, one of Duolun’s many architectural attractions. The former residence of Kong Xiangxi, built in 1924, features an Islamic building style.
Examples of the typical Shanghai architecture of the 1920s, an amalgamation of imported ideas mixed with traditional practices driven by a booming contemporary exchange of goods and ideas, can be found along the street. In the photo on the left, a former student’s dormitory includes an arch-lined outdoor corridor on the first and second floors, and in the photo on the right, a 1920s house build in the Renaissance style features ionic columns at its entryway.
The fact that it is a little off the beaten path definitely contributes to the street’s charm. Wandering into the small lanes lining can provide a sense of peace and quiet that sometimes seems hard to find in Shanghai. Duolun is a surprising oasis of calm, culture and heritage hidden in Hongkou. Leave a comment editorial china, cnngo, community, culture, duolun road, heritage, history, hongkou, league of leftist writers, literature, photo, photography, photojournalism, photos, scenes, shanghai, street, tourism, travel, 上海, 中国, 历史, 多伦路, 文化, 新闻, 照片, 虹口区 |
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Copyright © 2012 Gillian Bolsover, Photojournalist: Photography, Shanghai, China - All Rights Reserved |
