Shanghai, People’s Republic of China
A Gay Filipino in Shanghai
By Mikee dela Cruz
PUBLISHED: AUGUST 2010
PHOTOS BY M.D. DELA CRUZ TAN

'LOST' IN SHANGHAI. China has learned to (re)celebrate everything old, even as it also appreciates everything brought about by modernization.

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We all know China.

Or so we think, at least.

Considering that the global media still remains largely West-dictated most of the time, China (of the East) is always portrayed as bad.  Forget for a while the Western confusion with concepts of freedom and its application, but regularly we have been (and still are) bombarded with news, serving as examples on why China is bad.

DIFFERENT LOOKS. China is rediscovering its past (topmost photo) just as the world is embracing everything Chinese. Touches of past influences, like the French Quarter, are still must-visit places; just as Western forms of expression, e.g. Eddy's, are fortunately now common.

E.g. Internet access is curtailed there (in the US, they don’t use the word curtail even if they also control what you can access in the Net – they refer to it as “necessary control” of people in authority who are supposed to know best what you should see online); people live afraid of the military else another Tiananmen Square occurrence could happen again (in the US, they detain suspects without needing to file cases against them – they don’t see this as a violation of human rights because, well, they’re Americans and they can do this); and in China, we only see images that the Chinese government wants us to see, so forget the peasants, et cetera – they stay hidden from the world (as if there are no poor people in the West).

The big question, of course, is if China is really as bad as it is said to be.

And my answer? It’s experiential.

Yes, Beijing’s there. So is Shenzen.  Then there are the territories Macau SAR and Hong Kong. And a lot of other now often-visited Chinese destinations.  But here, the focus is Shanghai – the Sleeping Giant’s heart, in a manner of speaking (and even more so than Beijing, it can be argued, even if the capital is the latter).

Why Shanghai?

Because it can be argued that it best represents (in China) the notions of “modernity” as is generally accepted in Western definition.

Case in point: gay life.

Head to the French Quarter to find the gay yuppies, hanging out to perve (as we tend to do) in cafés, brunching in high-end restaurants, et cetera.  Blame (or thank – depends on your way of seeing) commercialization, but this looks more like the usual catching up late Sunday afternoon (after clubbing the night before) in Melbourne, or brunching in Manhattan (a la Carrie, Samantha, Miranda in SATC).

At night, there are two options, divided by how you prefer for your night to end. 

On the one hand, sans paligoy-ligoy (beating around the bush), head to bath houses.  Yes, they have them in Shanghai, too – and there are aplenty.  The catch is to find them – check Web sites for the addresses (basing on experiences in the Philippines, in K.L., et cetera, the addresses of similar venues should not just be given out since abusive government officials tend to find these venues to close them, or ask ‘protection’ money for them to be left alone).

On the other hand, there are the more “accepted” gay bars.

At the outskirts of the city is Eddy’s Bar, the pioneering gay venue of Shanghai.  Look hard, as you may miss it – it is right beside a convenience store – considering it is largely nondescript (the intent, I suppose, is to remain not “loud”).  Inside, too, the simplicity is the rule – stools with chairs scattered around a bar in the middle of the floor, with but few of the patrons actually doing some dancing.

“You’re new here?” this guy, the owner of the bar, asked as he approached me and my group.

“Just visiting, actually,” I laugh.  Then, stupidly (I say I was drunk): “And you would be?”

He looked at me, seemingly hurt before he laughed: “Eddy!”

“Oh,” I said.  “Sorry.  Wasn’t thinking – owner of the bar, so, of course, you’re Eddy.”

He laughed, too.  Then, abruptly, he let go of his hand on my back.  “Sorry… You have a partner, of course?”

I laughed.  “Yes.”

“Sorry, sorry…”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything but talk.”

More laughing.

“And you have a partner, I assume?”  My turn to ask.

“Yes,” he said.  Then he broke into a big laugh.  “But he isn’t here.”

The whole scene didn’t seem too different from chitchats I’ve had elsewhere outside China.

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