Shanghai: If The Swedes Knew It

Today after so long I did not go I went to Ikea. I needed the Koken, a couple of Tillsluta and of course some Jämka. Don’t worry, it’s not the usual post that talks about unimaginable names and women in the assembly line. I would like to dedicate myself to the custom, because if Ikea is the same worldwide, the client is not. I arrived on the spot five minutes before 10am. Outside I find a sea of faces waiting in front of the glass door of the entrance. I line up in a row with this thought: “I will not have decided to come right on the day of the super promotions of the Billy bookcase or the Backabro

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Shanghai: Nevermore Without

I have read an interesting article on digital commerce in China this morning. The numbers are embarrassing and growing, in 2015, “things” online were purchased from 322.1 million people via mobile phones (without counting travel or ticket purchases). Walking around the city you realize how much China is phone dependent. They all walk like robots watching the cellphone. In the subway they all watch recorded TV shows on their cell phones and in four years I’ve never seen anyone reading a book (apart from some student). The e-commerce sites that leap out to Shanghai are three: Alibaba, Ctrip and Taobao. The latter is the most used by the people I know. The site is only in Mandarin and you have

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Shanghai: Mojito Or Green Tea?

Unexpectedly today in Shanghai its springtime. I wake up with the singing of the birds, look out and there’s the sun, of course is a muted sun, but it’s still sunshine. I expect 20 degrees of warm spring warmth. I know I know, my mom always said: “Do not take off your winter clothes in April or you’ll get sick”, but I can’t resist. Tomorrow I will have sore throat and cold, but I have to do it! I wear light blue jeans, a nice shirt, a young faux leather jacket, sunglasses, older girl with a bicycle, younger girl with scooter, dog with croquettes, book for me, water and food for everyone and out we go towards the only pedestrian

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Shanghai: I Am A Serial Killer

I confess: I’m a serial killer. I like them all, big and small, showy or insignificant, luxuriant, full, scented. I see them, imprison them for a while in the house, torture them by immersing them in the water or thirst them for weeks and then one at a time I kill them. Let’s start from the beginning. In Shanghai, usually in the afternoon we organize playdates for the kids. From 4 pm to 6 pm the girls go to a friend’s home to play. It is a very pleasant thing to say the truth, the kids do their homework together without too much whining and then make up games before bringing them home exhausted, faded, packed and stuffed in a

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