While the French Concession began as a settlement for the French, it soon attracted residents of various nationalities.

In the 1920s, with the expansion of the French Concession, British and American merchants who worked in the International Settlement often chose to build more spacious houses in the newer part of the French Concession. One legacy of this Anglophone presence is the American College on rue de Petain (now Hengshan Road), and the nearby Community Church.

Shanghai saw a large influx of Russian émigrés in the wake of the Russian Revolution. This raised the Russian population in the French Concession from 41 in 1915 to 7000. This number further increased after the Japanese occupation of Manchuria to 8260 by 1934. Two Russian Orthodox churches can still be seen in the former French Concession. The Russian community had a large presence on commercial streets such as the avenue Joffre, and contributed to the development of the musical profession in Shanghai.

The Chinese population in the French Concession swelled during the Taiping Revolution, reaching about 500,000 just before the start of the Second Sino-Japanese War. During World War II, Japanese forces initially occupied only the Chinese areas, leaving the foreign concessions alone. Residents of the Chinese areas moved into the French Concession in large numbers, reaching 825,342.

Here are the five most incredible sights I have seen so far in my life. Can you identify them? (Six photos, five sights. Click on any to enlarge.)

  
 

Have I left anything out?  Hmm, let me think awhile...

This is another installment in a series I post here in partial answer to the question of what it is that so attracts me to China. I think after reading this analysis by the Washington Post's foreign correspondent in China, you will be as impressed, maybe even touched, as I was...

In China's Quake Zone, Aftershocks of the Spirit

Hardy Optimism Likely to Mask Despair

By Edward Cody
Washington Post Foreign Service
Wednesday, June 25, 2008; Page A01

MIANZHU, China -- Inside Meng Futing's refugee tent, the air was hot and fetid. Outside, summer rain had turned the little earthen lane to mud. It was so sticky between the rows of tents that each step Meng took made a sucking sound.

There was no hope of leaving this giant tent city anytime soon. Meng's village, Qipan, was leveled by the May 12 earthquake that devastated central China's hills. The road to Qipan, 24 miles north of Mianzhu, near the epicenter, was still cut off by a landslide.

But even as he recounted his misery, Meng, a 38-year-old farmer, was smiling and, to all outward appearances, cheerful. He was looking forward to an imminent move into prefab barracks going up about 200 yards away.

"We have to face the hardship," he said to a visitor surprised at his equanimity over a disaster that left 85,000 dead or missing. "The earthquake hit us. Nothing we can do about that. It was the work of heaven. Now we have to deal with it."

Across China, children have been taught for generations that enduring hardship -- or "eating bitter (吃苦)," as Chinese like to say -- is just as important as overcoming it. The rugged farmers of Sichuan have developed a reputation for being even abler than the rest of their countrymen in this respect. And since the quake struck, they have earned their reputation anew.

"Our mothers and fathers teach us from an early age," explained Jiang Mixiao, 45, whose apartment building in Dujiangyuan, just northwest of Chengdu, was flattened by the quake. "We all know how to eat bitter."

The Communist Party has made its own contribution to the tradition. The mystique of endurance was a central part of the Long March, in which Mao Zedong led his faltering forces into a mountainous refuge and lived to fight another day. Millions of young people were sent to the countryside during the Cultural Revolution for the express purpose of experiencing the hardships of peasant life.

Party propagandists have long relied on that history to rally support, even though three decades of economic reforms have transformed the way many Chinese live -- particularly party members -- and made the storied hardships only a memory. Now, the party has been forced to rely on the tradition in a new way, counting on the patience of 12 million refugees across the earthquake zone who have little promise of returning home for months or even years.

For them, the disaster has opened a new era of eating bitter. And once again, they have made enduring hardship a point of pride. "I could cry, but what good would that do?" said a homeless factory worker who identified himself only as Yang.

Vastly Better Than Tents

Jiang saw not only her home destroyed, but her factory, too. Still, on a recent day, she laughed easily while chatting with those around her inside her new prefab home, which she is sharing with family and neighbors, four to a room. Her husband was off to look for temporary work, she said, and her son had already found a job in the city center.

Jiang's daughter watched television on a set snatched from the ruins of their apartment, the sound loud enough for all to hear. Laundry hung outside to dry. On one side of the door, a neighbor fried greens in a wok over a little gas flame set up just outside the barracks-style unit. On the other side, another neighbor had some soup boiling. They would all eat together, Jiang said, and she invited a visitor to pull up a chair and dig in.

The earthquake and its aftermath have dramatized another trait that has followed the Chinese through their long history: the ability to live crowded together with a minimum of friction. What to a Westerner might have seemed like unbearably close quarters was neighborliness and making do for Jiang and fellow residents of the prefab city going up outside Dujiangyuan.

This, they knew, was to be their way of living for the foreseeable future. It was vastly better than the tent they left two weeks ago. In their new home, linoleum covered the floor. Showers and toilets were a short walk away. A workman daubed gray putty around the edges of the wall to prevent moisture from seeping in. The lanes between the barrackslike units were covered in concrete with small drainage channels on either side.

The Civil Affairs Ministry said last week that almost 1.5 million tents and 250,000 prefab housing units have been dispatched to the disaster zone. More prefabricated housing is on the way, it said, with the aim of replacing the tents in which most refugees have been living so far.

Quake victims have been told they should expect to live in the new units for up to three years, after which they will get government financing to help rebuild their former homes. In the meantime, their living conditions have come to resemble those of soldiers: shared showers, shared toilets, shared sleeping space, shared meals and shared idleness in the 10-foot-wide lanes between endless rows of prefabricated barracks.

"This is a lot better than those tents," said Jiang as the greens were proclaimed ready to eat and bowls were set around a low table fashioned from crates.

Faith in Science

A half-century of Communist atheism and nearly universal primary schooling have left most Chinese without the urge to seek spiritual explanations for what has befallen them. A survey of quake victims, conducted by the Horizon polling company, found that people generally "did not connect the earthquake with God or retribution," said Fan Wen, Horizon's public affairs research director.

But some victims have reached beyond the science nevertheless, wondering about a divine hand in what happened and looking for answers in Buddhist precepts. Their interpretations suggest that, under the surface of a country devoted to material gain, some Chinese have preserved a well of traditional faith that sustains them in times of crisis.

Zhao Yong, who works with the Hope China volunteer organization providing psychological counseling in the disaster zone, said a number of Buddhist believers have suggested that bad karma, created by evils such as polluting mountain streams, could have played a role in the tragedy.

Others sought a spiritual explanation outside organized religion. A middle school student in Beichuan, one of the hardest-hit towns 20 miles north of here, told counselors he believed he might have helped bring on the earthquake because he cursed a classmate during a quarrel the day before and the classmate perished. One woman told the group's interviewers she believed the earthquake was an act of God because, the previous day, she had been chatting with a friend who remarked how all their houses would be destroyed if an earthquake were to occur.

But most people in the earthquake zone seemed content to accept the scientific explanation offered by the government in the official media, according to several dozen interviews last week. In addition, the interviews showed, the government's swift rescue operations and sustained effort to provide emergency housing were widely applauded, creating a willingness to embrace government declarations.

Many victims, in talking with a foreign journalist, seemed gratified that they had the opportunity at last to offer praise about the authoritarian system in China, which much of the time during such discussions is criticized, in China as well as abroad.

'A Little Bit Too Optimistic'

He Shegui, a retired accountant, was glorying in Sichuan's reputation for eating bitter. Even in the days of Mao Zedong and the bloody civil war, he said, Sichuan soldiers were famous for enduring more suffering than the troops from other regions.

In a relaxed conversation in a just-completed concrete lane between rows of prefab housing, he recounted in a jocular tone how he and his wife slept in a Dujiangyuan city bus for three days after the earthquake. He, 73, was just outside their apartment building when the quake struck, he said, and he saw his wife come running out just in time.

But then it came time to talk about those who did not make it out of the building in time. "We lost people all around us," He said, his voice suddenly choking and tears welling up in his eyes as he listed the names of friends and relatives who died.

Many victims are like He, with pent-up emotions just under the surface, Fan said. The confident declarations about eating bitter and quickly rebuilding may give way to uncontrolled grief and resentment later unless government resettlement plans work well and party propaganda keeps up their morale, she warned.

"A survey during a previous earthquake showed that three or four months after the quake, the suicide rate increased," she added. "I think that the affected people in Sichuan are a little bit too optimistic. When they face the reality, they will have a letdown. The bigger their hope now, the bigger their letdown later on. People need to lower their hope and expectations."

Dan Zhongbin, 76, also reached back into years of Chinese history to explain how Sichuanese can eat bitter without complaining. "The mountains around here are not easy to live in," he said with pride in his voice. "Everybody knows how to endure hardship."

Dan, a retired construction worker, was sitting in his refugee tent whiling away the afternoon by reading a history of political struggles during the Cultural Revolution. Those were the days of China's great men, he said. But today's leaders have also shown their mettle during the earthquake, he added. Premier Wen Jiabao in particular showed great concern for people's welfare, Dan said.

Suddenly, from nowhere, a rush of uncontrolled emotion welled up. Losing his aplomb, Dan turned aside to conceal a bout of sobbing. A minute later, regaining control, he turned back toward his visitor. "They are good, too," he said, tears still in his eyes.

I took these photo in Hangzhou in 2006. 

Liuhe Pagoda (simplified Chinese: 六和塔; pinyin: Liùhé Tǎ), literally Six Harmonies Pagoda or Six Harmonies Tower, is a multi-storied Chinese pagoda in southern Hangzhou, Zhejiang province, China. It is located at the foot of Yuelun Hill, facing the Qiantang River. It was originally constructed during the Northern Song Dynasty (960 - 1127 AD), destroyed in 1121, and reconstructed fully by 1165, during the Southern Song Dynasty (1127 - 1279 AD).  The pagoda is octagonal in shape and some 59.89 meters (196 feet) in height, it also has the appearance of being a thirteen-story structure, though it only has seven interior stories. There is a spiral staircase leading to the top floor and upon each of the seven ceilings are carved and painted figures including animals, flowers, birds and characters. Each story of the pagoda consists of four elements, the exterior walls, a zigzagged corridor, the interior walls and a small chamber. Viewed from outside, the pagoda appears to be layered-bright on the upper surface and dark underneath. That is a harmonious alternation of light and shade.

 
On one of my favorite China travel BBSs, a subscriber posted the following: 

So if the boat trip from Guilin to Yangshuo is too commercial and the Yangtze River trip is overrated (and anyway too long), are there any other river trips that can be done?  Can anyone recommend anything?    ~Alice K

My reply:

About nine kilometers west northwest of Yangshuo is the town of Baisha, and a short distance west of there is the village of Yulong.  If you arrange transportation to that location (my friend and I hired a three-wheeled motorcycle with two-passenger sidecar), and then cross the lovely old Yulong Qiao (Jade Dragon Bridge), you will be able to arrange (negotiate) an inspiringly gorgeous and exciting river trip down the Yulong River  on a bamboo raft for ¥100 to ¥200. There are frequent (30 or so) bumps and waterfalls along the route which may require getting off the raft from time to time, but my recollection of the trip about five years ago is nothing short of wonderful.  Many people claim the scenery is as good or better than along the Lijiang, without the negative commercial aspects. I have the photos to prove it -- the one on the left being only one of them.  Perhaps the trip is not for the faint of heart, though I am about as cowardly as they come.  The motorcycle "taxi" driver -- an enterprising local mother --  arranged to pick us up near the Old Banyan Tree south of Yangshuo at the end of our river journey six or seven hours later, and took us back to our hotel in Yangshuo.

Home again from my overnight trip to Philadelphia.  Unable to visit my friend, who is suffering at home with his cancer treatment, I resignedly took advantage of the prepaid hotel room, and managed to visit Independence Hall, (below left), where America all began. Known primarily as the location where the Declaration of Independence was debated and adopted, the building was completed in 1753 as the Pennsylvania State House for the Province of Pennsylvania. It became the meeting place of the Second Continental Congress. The Declaration of Independence and United States Constitution were both signed at Independence Hall. The building is now part of the larger Independence National Historical Park and listed as a World Heritage Site.

From Independence Hall, I walked to my friend's church to light a candle in his honor and to hope for better days ahead for him. Old St. Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church (below right) is Philadelphia’s oldest Catholic community. It was founded by Jesuits in 1733 and is still staffed by Jesuits and their lay colleagues. The community has been in continuous existence since 1733.  The parish is located in the historic Society Hill section of Philadelphia, just two blocks from Independence Hall National Park.

Oh, and lest I forget... one other famous Philadelphia tradition... the Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich, which I thoroughly enjoyed, despite the sinful calories and cholesterol.

As I sat here planning my trip to China, I found some quotations about travel that somehow seemed to motivate me...

I travel not to go anywhere, but to go.  I travel for travel's sake.  The great affair is to move. 
~Robert Louis Stevenson

When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money.  Then take half the clothes and twice the money.  ~Susan Heller

A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.  ~Lao Tzu

No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.  ~Lin Yutang

The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land.  ~G.K. Chesterton

Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness.  ~Ray Bradbury

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.  Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.  ~Mark Twain

A passport, as I'm sure you know, is a document that one shows to government officials whenever one reaches a border between countries, so the officials can learn who you are, where you were born, and how you look when photographed unflatteringly.  ~Lemony Snicket

We wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment.  ~Hilaire Belloc

Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.  ~Benjamin Disraeli

The most important trip you may take in life is meeting people halfway.  ~Henry Boye

An icy day... schools closed, and walking is very treacherous.  So I must forego my usual morning walk through the woods.... Oh well, on a more positive note I finally decided on firm dates and finalized the airline reservation and paid for my spring trip to China.  It feels very good at last to have precise calendar dates marked for travel, as I have been in a real slump for the past several months, with nothing much of positive significance to look forward to.  I did some project work for the recent presidential primary election and was able to save a little money... and now I have my entry (Shanghai) and exit (Hong Kong) locations in China selected, and an open calendar of 27 travel & leisure days to fill.  For me, that's the magic of it all -- planning is half the fun of travel, not to mention the excitement of something worthwhile to anticipate.  In addition to seeing some old friends, I hope to explore some new China sites and cities, maybe some more remote areas, to eat new foods and hopefully strike up new acquaintances.  If I am lucky I might even learn a little more Putonghua, and try to use some of the words and phrases I am struggling so desperately to absorb in my weekly mandarin class at the local college. So, with map in hand, let the planning begin....

"That is the charm of a map. It represents the other side of the horizon where everything is possible. It has the magic of anticipation without the toil and sweat of realization. The greatest romance ever written pales before the possibilities of adventure that lie in the faint blue trails from sea to sea. The perfect journey is never finished, the goal is always just across the next river, round the shoulder of the next mountain. There is always one more track to follow, one more mirage to explore. Achievement is the price which the wanderer pays for the right to venture."
           --Rosita Forbes, From Red Sea to Blue Nile (1925)