That might have been what Captain Cho was waiting for, a confirmation of who was buying whom the said coffee, "I may be able to slip away for a few moments." He nodded to the one other person in the office, who was busy scratching out what might have been a night report…or a letter to his mother…and put on the hat identifying his rank.
"I will show you the best place in the area," he said, striking off at an unexpectedly brisk pace for someone with as much white hair on his head and whose fingers were so stained by nicotine. Nodding and acknowledging almost everyone they passed, which was a significant endeavor, they arrived at a small, but inviting, looking tea shop with actual walls, windows and a front door. Rather than coffee, Captain Cho ordered them both a strong, black tea with lots of sugar and cream and a meat filled pastry that was still warm from the oven right behind the counter. Captain Cho chatted briefly, in Chinese, with the old man that was making their tea, nodding his head toward Boris more than once. He finally formally introduced the men by simply saying, "Boris, Gua…Gua, Boris."
Gua nodded, smiling, and said, "Thank you."
"Salamat po," Boris returned the nod and smile.
For a moment, both Captain Cho and Boris sat and simply enjoyed their tea. It was earthy with just a hint of rose or cherry petal base and thick and rich with the cream and sugar. It crossed Boris' mind to try to find out how to make the pastry and bring the recipe home for his papa. He dismissed the idea quickly though because he knew the language barrier would be great and it would simply sidetrack him from his intended purpose today.
"How long have you been with the police, Captain Cho?" Boris asked.
"I have worked for the Shanghai police force for thirty two years now, Boris," answered Captain Cho.
"Oh, that's a long time, you must have some very interesting tales to tell your grandchildren," Boris said.
"I do! I have watched as ideas were cultivated, causing men to blossom among hard stones, either to flourish and accumulate or to wither and slump. I hope when I have time to tell them, they will still think their old pop is interesting," Captain Cho said.
"My sister says you are very good at what you do and that you know everyone in your neighborhood. I don't know how one keeps track of so many people. I myself don't know all my neighbors back in the Philippines!" Boris said.
"A sharp and diligent mind, nourished with home cooking and plenty of rest, and honed with the punch of these good white sticks," Captain Cho indicated his pack of Marlboros with a wink. "Sadly, the truth is that I do not have a wife anymore and rest comes less swiftly as my bones get achier,” He shook out a cigarette, lit it and coughed up what must have been a goodly portion of his lung, spitting it into his paper napkin.
"I'm sorry to hear that, has she passed away?" Asked Boris.
Captain Cho sipped his tea noisily and answered, "Yes."
"I too, do not have a wife, I guess I'm too busy being a tourist and enjoying my sister's success to pick one and settle down," Boris said.
"Listen to your elders, my boy, do it quickly and make babies to carry on in your stead so that someone is left to clean your grave marker," Captain Cho winked again at this, "They allow you to see into the future and repair the past."
The two men continued chatting until Boris thought he knew Captain Cho and vice versa. When the conversation turned back to food, Captain Cho announced that he should be getting back to his responsibilities and the two parted ways at the front door of the tea shop, heading in opposite directions. Boris wandered around a bit before heading back to his sister's place. He noted that Captain Cho was not visible when he entered Julia's building.
This time, he didn't go directly to his sister's apartment, but instead wandered around the common areas of the building, getting to know the doors, stairways, closets and couches. One of the doors he tried led to a storage room full of recyclables and in the far back of this room was another door. When he opened the second door, he was greeted by heaps of garbage and a half dozen mangy cats that stared at him with dull, bored eyes. The area smelled ripe and looked like if the garbage was set out here to be picked up, it was not picked up very often. He checked the door, and sure enough, if he let it close, he wouldn't be getting back in that way. So picking up a large sliver from a broken up pallet, he jammed it into the door latch and let the door swing shut.
He was in a back alley between two buildings with an exit to his left and his right. There was also a door directly across the alley leading into the building across the street. This building was derelict with boards on the lower windows, some of which were hanging and rotted. Boris decided to try door number one, directly in front of him. It opened to an empty, gloomy warehouse space and it took his eyes a minute to adjust. Quietly, he stepped into the room, set up a piece of trash to block the door and let it swing shut on it. He could see brighter light coming from the other side of the space so he crept over there, keeping close to the wall, without touching it. When he got close enough to the other side, he could see that there was another room, separated from his space by a wall that was half filthy glass. This room was also clearly abandoned, but it had been occupied by a dozen squatters, all fast asleep on rags on the floor. Backing up and turning around he exited the building and decided on door number two…the alley exit leading away from Captain Cho's office.
When he got to the street, he hailed a rickety cab and showed them the card for the jazz club he'd visited at the Bund with Julia.
Getting to Know the Harbor 1982
After learning the options to exit and enter Julia’s building more discreetly, Boris spent a lot of time around the bund and the harbor beyond the bund.
He spoke to every person that looked vaguely Filipino. If a street vendor looked relatively permanent, he would buy coffee and strike up any conversation that could be had with them. A lot of the Chinese workers on the docks, as well as most small vendors, only spoke their native tongue, usually Shanghainese. If he found one that spoke any significant amount of English he might spend an hour talking. He spent hours in bars in the evening as well. His goal was to learn the unofficial way of doing business in this port. The methods that benefitted the small entrepreneur such as himself. The methods that did not swamp one with bureaucratic paperwork. The path he needed to take to stay under the radar, specifically, how to pass in and out as fluidly and quietly as possible.
Boris knew there had to be harbor offices that were less than diligent about proper documentation. There was so much going in and out of Shanghai, he thought it was likely that there were many such offices. All he needed was one. The day before his appointed transaction with Orlando, he found it.
It was his fifth day combing through worthless conversations. He’d gotten so many referrals that simply benefited the referrer’s relative, assurances that so-and-so was 'the easiest' to work with when so-and-so actually only exported nickel and dime 'hand crafted' items to the United States, or common names that ended up being large companies. On this day he found himself at a bar he had frequented for lunch. It was simple, provided cold beer and tasty lunch specials. The real reason he continued to return was that it was patronized by sailors working vessels from all over the world.
Boris found his normal place at the bar filled with a small group of Russians talking quietly about…well, he had no idea what they were talking about, but it didn't look like a conversation they welcomed strangers into.
"Sam. Hi, Sam. Hello!" It took the bartender three tries to get his attention. Boris had been calling himself Sam during the week and it didn't register at first that he was being hailed.
"Oh, hi, sorry about that, I guess I'm lost in my thoughts today. What's up?"
"If you're still interested in a port company that works with small scale import / export businesses, I might have a contact for you."
Boris made a show of thinking about it for a few seconds and replied, "Sure, what do you have?"
"Guy in the corner booth over your left shoulder. He's not real regular, bu
t comes in every month or so. I forgot that he's got a port business and only works with single vessel operators."
"Okay, that might work. Do I need an introduction?"
"Not if you buy him a rum and Coke."
Boris had the bartender mix the drink, draw him a beer and then he ordered the special. Today he recognized chicken and rice. The rest of the ingredients were a mystery, but the special was always good. Picking up the two drinks he headed for the corner booth.
"Hi, my name's Sam. Bartender said you might like one of these and that I might be able to talk import / export with you." He set the rum and Coke in front of the man in the booth and waited.
The man looked up into his face for a full seven seconds, Boris counted, before he said, "Thanks, the name is Manny," and indicated that he should sit across from him.
Manny took a long drink and waited for Boris to begin the conversation. He had sandy blond hair that was longish with a three day stubble going over his entire face and heavy dark circles under his eyes. He looked vaguely Scandinavian to Boris, but what did he know really, he knew he wasn't Asian, anyway.
"So, I'm looking for a port company that works with the little guys and doesn't smother them with paperwork." He hadn't had much luck so far so he just laid it on the line.
Manny looked at him as he took another pull on his drink and replied, "What do you move?"
"Whatever needs to be moved," Replied Boris.
“You’re Filipino, why should I trust you?” Manny asked.
“You shouldn’t…yet,” Boris answered.
“Are you here on a job?” Manny asked.
“Yes,” Boris replied.
"Well, who are you working with now?" Manny asked.
"Nobody, this is my first run. I did it as a tourist," Boris answered.
"Ballsy,” Manny said, continuing with, “I’m gonna add some cost to your operation."
"My operation is going to be bigger next time, I'll be able to cover some costs if there’s some benefit involved," Boris replied.
"My fee is a half percent of the value of the boat. Empty. My valuation. Each time. In. And out." When Boris didn't blink or back away, Manny continued, "Where are you based?"
"Manila," Boris answered.
"As far as I know, you move mangos in and office machine parts out," Manny stated.
"Office machine parts?" He asked. Boris thought that was weird if he imported mangos.
"Yeah, used ones for recycle," Manny answered.
"Okay, whatever," Boris said.
"If you want to do business, here's where I'm at," He tossed Boris a card with a scrawled address in English and Chinese on it. When Boris looked up from the card, Manny was draining his drink and getting up to leave.
A little surprised that the meeting was over, Boris said, "Good to meet you," and Manny gave him a little two finger salute, turned and headed out the door with a tip of his chin in the direction of the bartender.
The meeting was so short and empty that the lunch special, which only took a few minutes to prepare, was just showing up. It was steaming and looked pretty good so Boris indicated he wanted another beer and gracelessly picked up the chopsticks to eat. When the second beer had sufficiently washed down the day's special, which turned out to be full of red pepper, Boris went up and laid a few Yuan on the bar for the bartender and headed out to find a cab.
An hour later he was at a part of the harbor that he had, as yet, not visited. It became clear to him why he had been having trouble finding port companies that specialized in his type of business. This area was rough. Really rough. It was so rough that he decided he needed to be out of there before dark. But first, he wanted to look around and get an idea of what he was getting into.
He circled the address that Manny had given him until he found a place that sold some sort of thing in a paper take-away. Buying one, and carefully avoiding the dripping grease coming from both ends of it, he moved a little ways away and settled in to uncomfortably observe Manny's place, as well as the surroundings.
Manny's place wasn't very busy. Also, whatever it was that Boris purchased was beginning to stink and attract rats. He wasn't going to eat it anyway, so he broke off wet pieces and threw them a few feet away.
When a boat finally began the docking process in front of Manny’s, only two people came out of the shabby office space. One of them hustled dockside and caught ropes that were tossed at him from the rusted hulk and the other was Manny himself. He didn't participate in securing the lines or anything else. He was only there to watch his one half percent come in to Shanghai. There was little on this vessel topside and Boris couldn't tell whether it was loaded or not, but it seemed to be riding pretty high in the water for an incoming boat.
From the looks of the hull design it had started out its life as a small, single hulled tanker of some sort, Boris was betting in the forties. It had a single smokestack and was being helped to the dock by a single tug and a single dockhand. Boris thought it was probably eighty or one hundred feet long, so none of this was impossible, but he wondered if it would be different if the harbor water was choppier or the wind picked up.
When the boat was close enough to the dock to set a gang plank, one came out and four additional hands hustled down to secure the boat. Manny went up the gang plank as soon as the four came down and didn't come back out until the entire…whatever it was Boris had purchased…was consumed by the rats and they were getting close enough that his shoe was making contact with their fat, inquiring faces. It was also closing in on dusk. He decided to call it a day.
Tea and Education 1982
Thursday came, like it did week in and week out, and for the first time in five days he left the building by the front door, looking to see if Captain Cho was waiting. He was, and he seemed happy to see him.
He came hustling over to greet him, asking, "Are you going to have tea again, Boris?"
Boris decided he indeed would, as he had a little information he thought Captain Cho might be able to enlighten him with.
"Sure, same place?" Boris asked.
"If it's the best in the area there's no reason to change, is there?" Captain Cho replied.
They again made the walk to Gua's tea shop with Captain Cho greeting nearly everyone along the way. This time the block captain did not walk as fast, nor did he hold his back as straight as the last time.
As they waited for their meat pastry and tea, Boris initiated his conversation, "Julia took me shopping the other day. Shanghai is a tremendous place and the options are great." Captain Cho nodded his head in an all knowing way. Of course he knew his great Chinese city was magnificent. "However, one place confused me."
"Why, Mister Boris, was it the price haggling?"
Negotiating for price in China was famous, but it was also done in the street markets of his country. "No, that I'm familiar with, Captain. It was a specific shop. My sister was looking at pearls."
"Shanghai is quite famous for its pearl market. There are not many that compare, but you must be wary. Not every shop owner is an honest seller and party supporter."
Boris missed a step trying to figure out what being a party supporter could possibly have in common with being an honest seller, but he pushed on, "My confusion was about a particular shop. In this shop, every item was the same price. Not a low price, either, a very high price."
Captain Cho nodded knowingly. "This shop is not for you. Find another seller, Mister Boris."
"But why, Captain? I don't understand what this shop is about, it makes no sense." He had a pretty good idea what the shop was about, but he wanted to validate his assumption.
"Sometimes, young Boris, if something in life doesn't make sense to you as you look at it from the right, you must try to look at it from the left. If it still doesn't make sense, you must look at it from up, down and inside out." He shook a cigarette out of his crumpled pack, snapped a cardboard match to life and continued through the haze of blue smoke created by touching the flame to the tobacco t
rying to escape, "Looked at from its own direction, everything in this world makes sense. Everything is about balance and perspective."
"I'm sorry, I still don't understand."
Captain Cho exhaled his cloud and looked at him as his teachers used to when he was purposefully dense. "Who has money to purchase something as rare and exquisite as pearls, but doesn't care what the cost is? Who has something so rare and exquisite to trade, but treats them like a plain, white tea cup…each one the same?"
"People to whom the actual pearl is meaningless and is not the end desire?"
Captain Cho just looked at him and took another drag, this one turning into a wet hack coming from deep in his chest.
A money laundry in the center of the market. Boris was surprised, but intrigued.
Mitten Crabs 1982
He wasn't sure why he'd been interested in the pearl shop, but it was another piece to be tucked away for future reference. When he got home from his tea Julia was just getting up. "My last day sleepyhead. Do you want lunch or maybe dinner before you sing?"
She stretched and yawned. She could never get to sleep before 2:00 a.m. anymore. "I'd love a late lunch, Bori, let's go to The Black Star. I want to try their Chinese mitten crabs. Would you take me?"
He'd been spending money like he was on vacation since he'd gotten here, but spending time with his baby sister was a special treat. And he didn't know much about Chinese mitten crabs, but if Julia wanted to try them it probably meant they were some form of delicacy…thus pricey. "I would love to take you, sister. Should I rob a bank before we go?" He winked at her.
She smiled, closed her eyes and stretched some more. "Be a sweetheart and make me some tea?"
It was noon now and they didn’t have to be to the club until 8:00 p.m. Boris spent the previous night carefully removing all the doubloons from Julia's trunk and repacking them in the two cases he would bring along tonight for the exchange. At the moment they were hidden deep within clothes of Julia's closet. Thirteen hundred coins weren't all that bulky, but they were heavy.
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