Built to last,but not for long

Built to last, but not for long....

On a very steamy day in central Dongguan, I have managed to locate a very comfortable, air-conditioned, little drinks and cake outlet that goes by the delightful name of Green Tea Cake (as ever, the Chinese omit the definite article). 

A Chinese crooner is groaning away softly from the speakers, clearly in some pain over a long lost lover, or something of similar ilk - one needs little understanding of the words, the sentiments are the same the whole World over. 

Opposite the cafe, a building that consists almost entirely of the utilitarian white tiles that were so ubiquitous in this country twenty or so years ago, sits softly crumbling, losing more tiles each month, while it awaits its turn for its own, all too inevitable, demolition.  

China seems to be in a constant state of renewing itself, replacing the relatively 'old' with sparkling new edifices as part of a seemingly continuous process. Unfortunately, although the new edifices may sparkle they tend to do so for but a few years. The endless building and rebuilding of flats is a fine example of the process. The flats look like the last word in luxury when they are constructed, but a return visit only a couple of years later gives a completely different impression; one of rising damp, leaky pipes and crumbling tile work. 

On the plus side, this impermanence means constant work for those involved in all things related to construction. On the downside, one wonders at the wisdom of investing in property that has such built in obsolescence!? 

Economically, this permanent state of impermanence entails a constant state of turnover. This means that there is forever an ongoing state of intense economic activity as the money spins around again and again in these ever renewable projects. The period between building and obsolescence seems to be becoming shorter and shorter. Even buildings that are less than a single decade old can be quickly consigned to history in the headlong rush into the brighter, more modern, future.  

In a sense, it feels all very Buddhist; almost a celebration of impermanence. It can also feel a tad disconcerting though, as one succumbs to the feeling that one never really knows a city in China. Go back to the same city just a few years later and so much will have changed as to render it nearly unrecognisable. 

          

It seems that most things are built to last but a short time here in China. Visiting sites that, just a couple of years back, were the last word in modernity, but are now left forlorn and abandoned leaves one feeling somewhat disconcerted at the temporality of it all.           

I read on the BBC site last week that the UK government, in its wisdom, has decided to allow the Chinese to build two atomic power stations, one on the East coast and one on the West. Given the general standards of construction here in China, one cannot help but ponder on to the sagacity of such a move. 

In the week that I left the UK, the self-same British government were casting doubts on the new leader of the British Labour Party, one Jeremy Corbyn. They felt that his election might pose a threat to the UK's security. They then followed this up by asking the Chinese (of all people) to build the previously mentioned nuclear power stations. You couldn't, as they say, make it up... 

Back in the cafe, the crooner on the radio wails more plaintively than ever as I finish the last of my cold green tea. One's heart cannot help but go out to such a suffering soul, but it will be with a feeling of some relief that I leave him to his heartache as I head out once more into the steamy streets of this burgeoning metropolis. 

The café itself is a very pleasant, and very comfortable place in which a wandering flaneur can take all the time he wishes to gather his thoughts and compose an at least semi-meaningful blog. This particular flaneur though, wonders if it will still be here the next time I return to the ever-changing city of Dongguan?