Recently, after starting to write again, I read from an old post how I had been missing the western style shopping malls and walking the corridors of a mall alone. I can say that I have been doing it a lot recently. Walking through the white, shiny corridors of shopping malls just by myself. And I have been wondering what is that thing, what is the calming factor of walking in the malls.
Last month I was doing it in two big Asian cities, Shanghai and Bangkok. In those huge, huge cities with millions and millions of people, the malls are like some weird luxury dream islands. The contrast between what is inside and what is outside is as big as are the buildings. Almost all of them air conditioned and clean, the malls hold a little different atmospheres inside. Some are almost silent and sophisticated, some are filled with too many things and little spaces and different sounds.
Long time ago in Spain, I used to visit churches to get some relief from the noise and heat of the streets. I remember how cooling it was inside a church, sitting on it's bench, being surrounded by the dim church lights and the silence. How refreshing it was. And many times a part of me wanted to stay there longer than what I actually did. Yet at the same time some images on the church walls like the bleeding Jesus on his cross made me feel a little uncomfortable and I just wanted to walk out.
Malls. Big white spaces filled with luxuries. People gathering. Also places where you go hoping to attain something, hoping to fulfill some need. To find something, inner peace maybe, or just ice cream. Or just to window-shop whatever there would be to get. Malls are also like churches. And when I was visiting the malls in Shanghai and Bangkok, I couldn't help but notice the big images on the walls, they were the same in both places. The brands they are selling are the same, of course. The same western luxury brands. The images were perhaps of the same young female western models, and if not exactly the same, they were look-alikes, all representing ideas of beauty and purity.
All those hundreds and thousands and millions Asian people around. And the images on the walls were of European looking girls, so young you could call them children. Their skin so white and smooth and the whole appearance so innocent and pure it made me think of the images of Madonna on South European church walls. I saw her in Shanghai, and then I saw her in Bangkok again.
In Shanghai I was staying close to West Nanjing Road and the big malls of the business district. It was not always easy to find everyday stuff like basic soap, but it would have been easy to find Prada and Gucci and the like. Yes, the luxury malls with all super expensive western brands were there, and restaurants were there, but finding affordable everyday goods seemed like a difficult task at first. I actually needed some help for finding a normal supermarket to begin with.
From outside, the malls did not look attractive at first. Too calculated, too big, too in-human. But when I understood going inside would mean a possibility to find a movie theatre and maybe even a supermarket, I went into one, and that one became my favourite. Among all those in-human places it became the one to trust. It offered me silence, coolness and warmth and privacy for my wanders. It offered movies, food and ice cream. Protection from traffic and space and silence to think or not to think, depending on the situation. There was a little restaurant called Honeymoon Desserts where I had some honeymoon time with the Asian desserts all by myself. Moments to remember.
I became a regular. Sometimes I just passed by and walked through the ground floor and it's ridiculously expensive cosmetic department, observing the spotless, clinical space and trying the find the exit closest to my hotel. Or I went to movies on the top floor taking time for my self only, or even visiting Honeymoon Desserts, which only felt as special as a honeymoon on the first round. Or I walked around the grocery store on the minus one floor thinking what would be good with the cucumbers for dinner and how overpriced some things there really were.
On my last day in Shanghai I went there again. It was raining. The water was dripping from my umbrella. The ladies behind their cashiers were smiling politely behind a comfortable distance, and as always, I could enjoy my round of just looking around without anyone really trying to sell me anything. There weren't much customers as it was in the middle of a weekday, and all those other malls were close enough, offering their spaces for the ones that preferred their kind of surroundings and care.
The background music was pleasantly the same around the whole floor. A singer and songwriter, perhaps, the woman was singing in English. The music was a little melancholic and good for the rainy afternoon and saying goodbyes. The familiarity and comfort of that space together with the music created an emotional vibe, which felt funny and real at the same time. Like the cars and trains that become alive in cartoons, it almost felt like this mall had become a living entity. All those walks and moments to remember had made this space something else. I was about to leave and this was my goodbye-walk. I didn't say goodbyes to many people, but I felt I was saying goodbye to everything there by walking through that mall. And if it would have been like in cartoons, that mall would have been saying goodbye to me.
Last month I was doing it in two big Asian cities, Shanghai and Bangkok. In those huge, huge cities with millions and millions of people, the malls are like some weird luxury dream islands. The contrast between what is inside and what is outside is as big as are the buildings. Almost all of them air conditioned and clean, the malls hold a little different atmospheres inside. Some are almost silent and sophisticated, some are filled with too many things and little spaces and different sounds.
Long time ago in Spain, I used to visit churches to get some relief from the noise and heat of the streets. I remember how cooling it was inside a church, sitting on it's bench, being surrounded by the dim church lights and the silence. How refreshing it was. And many times a part of me wanted to stay there longer than what I actually did. Yet at the same time some images on the church walls like the bleeding Jesus on his cross made me feel a little uncomfortable and I just wanted to walk out.
Malls. Big white spaces filled with luxuries. People gathering. Also places where you go hoping to attain something, hoping to fulfill some need. To find something, inner peace maybe, or just ice cream. Or just to window-shop whatever there would be to get. Malls are also like churches. And when I was visiting the malls in Shanghai and Bangkok, I couldn't help but notice the big images on the walls, they were the same in both places. The brands they are selling are the same, of course. The same western luxury brands. The images were perhaps of the same young female western models, and if not exactly the same, they were look-alikes, all representing ideas of beauty and purity.
All those hundreds and thousands and millions Asian people around. And the images on the walls were of European looking girls, so young you could call them children. Their skin so white and smooth and the whole appearance so innocent and pure it made me think of the images of Madonna on South European church walls. I saw her in Shanghai, and then I saw her in Bangkok again.
In Shanghai I was staying close to West Nanjing Road and the big malls of the business district. It was not always easy to find everyday stuff like basic soap, but it would have been easy to find Prada and Gucci and the like. Yes, the luxury malls with all super expensive western brands were there, and restaurants were there, but finding affordable everyday goods seemed like a difficult task at first. I actually needed some help for finding a normal supermarket to begin with.
From outside, the malls did not look attractive at first. Too calculated, too big, too in-human. But when I understood going inside would mean a possibility to find a movie theatre and maybe even a supermarket, I went into one, and that one became my favourite. Among all those in-human places it became the one to trust. It offered me silence, coolness and warmth and privacy for my wanders. It offered movies, food and ice cream. Protection from traffic and space and silence to think or not to think, depending on the situation. There was a little restaurant called Honeymoon Desserts where I had some honeymoon time with the Asian desserts all by myself. Moments to remember.
I became a regular. Sometimes I just passed by and walked through the ground floor and it's ridiculously expensive cosmetic department, observing the spotless, clinical space and trying the find the exit closest to my hotel. Or I went to movies on the top floor taking time for my self only, or even visiting Honeymoon Desserts, which only felt as special as a honeymoon on the first round. Or I walked around the grocery store on the minus one floor thinking what would be good with the cucumbers for dinner and how overpriced some things there really were.
On my last day in Shanghai I went there again. It was raining. The water was dripping from my umbrella. The ladies behind their cashiers were smiling politely behind a comfortable distance, and as always, I could enjoy my round of just looking around without anyone really trying to sell me anything. There weren't much customers as it was in the middle of a weekday, and all those other malls were close enough, offering their spaces for the ones that preferred their kind of surroundings and care.
The background music was pleasantly the same around the whole floor. A singer and songwriter, perhaps, the woman was singing in English. The music was a little melancholic and good for the rainy afternoon and saying goodbyes. The familiarity and comfort of that space together with the music created an emotional vibe, which felt funny and real at the same time. Like the cars and trains that become alive in cartoons, it almost felt like this mall had become a living entity. All those walks and moments to remember had made this space something else. I was about to leave and this was my goodbye-walk. I didn't say goodbyes to many people, but I felt I was saying goodbye to everything there by walking through that mall. And if it would have been like in cartoons, that mall would have been saying goodbye to me.
