Wusong Bridge The gilded bridge over the river; on the steps leading up to the bridge, the beggar; and Carrefour on the other side, the facade, painted Paris scenes, the Seine. What isn't imitated: the beggar. I stand and watch a black plastic bag floating in the green murky water. Portrayed at Carrefour is the good life: the famous river and its arching bridges, the small cafes along the quais, the Eiffel Tower, even Le Louvre with Palais Royal in the background— think of all those treasures inside!— while here on the bridge are four towers, tinsel-gold figurines on top meant to represent "Conception, Nurturing, Growth, and Hope." On the steps below, moaning in supplication, the beggar sits before a small tin pot into which the deposit of even yī  jiǎo (一 角) makes a terrible racket. Is Heaven helping to amplify the sound back on earth? But who hears? There are so few coins in the pot! Now the black plastic bag has floated downstream and I sit on a bench in front of Carrefour contemplating a silver-haired couple in a Paris cafe, big glasses of vin rouge on a table before them, le baguette, fromage ... There is something almost biblical about the scene if you replace the cheese with a fish. I eat the pastry I bought inside the big French-style market in Shanghai but it sticks to my fingers like glue. The scene is jiǎ, false. I don't think the Chinese have gotten the idea.
	by Louis Martin