Liverpool and Shanghai united in dreams of greatness

Jun 7 2008 by David Charters, Liverpool Daily Post

The miles vanish when a great conversationalist speaks of his love for Liverpool’s twin city of Shanghai. David Charters reports

TO THE discerning observer, a hint of the leprechaun glows in the blue-eyed smile of the man carrying a beaker of unmilked coffee to a table in the glass-roofed cafe, where he is going to shrink the world by the flow of his words.

There, perched on a chromium chair, clasping his hands, he starts talking about Shanghai until the 5,700-miles between us vanish and the great city appears as clear as an optician’s eye-glass.

Who needs an aeroplane if you have a tour guide like Lew Baxter, Celtic charmer, folk singer and writer of ceaseless vivacity, who was first seduced by Liverpool – but now finds himself almost as much in love with the teeming Chinese port of noise, where the hooters honk all day and the engines rev all night, down the steaming streets of many smells, races, creeds and bank accounts. In this crazy mix, ancient wisdom brushes the zeal of youth an faith in the future bubbles.

Money-rollers spout Confucious while the new buildings on the waterfront pierce the sky.

This is what Lew enjoys, something to talk about, excitement, the throb of humanity – and Liverpool and Shanghai, salted by maritime history, are twin cities, roaring into this 21st century, both oozing confidence.

But before telling us about why this link with China is so important to Liverpool, he wants to discuss his name.

Yes, it’s Lew Baxter. We should know that in Liverpool, after all the years we’ve known him, reading his numerous newspaper and magazine articles, as well as his books.

But hold on a moment – “Grasshopper jump too fast,” as might have been said by fans of Kung Fu, the “chop-suey western”, which achieved a massive TV following in the 1970s for its cod-wisdom, supposedly developed from Chinese philosophy.

In China, Lew, 60, is called Lao Hugong, which he pronounces with considerable aplomb and matching pride – and why not? It is the custom for regular visitors and westerners living in China to adopt a suitable name.

“I chose this name because most foreigners choose Chinese names to say Mr Wonderful, Mr Wealthy, Mr Bright, Mr Brilliant or Miss Smart Cookie, Miss Fabulous,” he says. “But I’m a bearded old chap and my names means ‘bearded old one’,” says Lew. “The Chinese love that because there is a self-deprecatory element to it.

“I am called Lao Hugong by people at the Chinese Embassy in London and by the Consul General in Manchester.

“Another reason I chose it was Zhou Enlai (1898-1976), China’s great prime minister. On the Long March (1934) he had a wispy beard and went under the nickname of ‘Bearded’. People think it is nice and appropriate.”

From the early 1990s, Lew, a father of two, was involved in the diplomatic and commericial efforts to twin Shanghai and Liverpool.

Of course, the historic links between the cities are much older. Chinese sailors began settling in Liverpool in the mid-19th century. The Blue Funnel Line, founded in 1865, was the first to have a direct steamship link between Britain and China. Two Chinese “boys” were included among the 700 people it employed between 1871-73.

The 1881 Census recorded 15 Chinese-born residents in Liverpool and Birkenhead, though there would have been others staying in the port temporarily. The Chinese population in Liverpool has never exceeded 8,000. But China Town, originally formed around Cleveland Square, Pitt Street and Frederick Street, is the oldest in the UK. The 2001 Census recorded 5140 Chinese people in the city.

By the 1930s the Liverpool/Chinese community was just 530. But the war changed that. Liverpool was home to the Chinese Merchant Seamen’s Pool, which included some 15,000 men, many from Shanghai. However, as had happened after the First World War, the population quickly dispersed.

Improving economic circumstances led to another population growth in the 1950s when Chinese restaurants began replacing the old laundries as the mainstay of the community.

The friendship between the two ports is now famously symbolised by the Imperial Arch (also called the Chinese or Friendship Arch) at the entrance to Liverpool’s Chinatown. It is the largest outside China, standing at 15 metres (50ft), spanning Nelson Street.

“There are 200 dragons hand-painted and gilded into the dazzling structure, which is protected on its eaves by eight fearsome looking dragon heads, as well as a squadron of other creatures, such as the phoenix,” says Lew.

“There are also 188 ordinary dragons and 12 pregnant dragons, signifying good fortune between Liverpool and Shanghai.”

The arch was created by Zang Yong Lai of Shanghai and built by the Yin Li Garden Company, before being shipped here piece by piece.

Protected by two bronze lions, it has been placed according to the principles of Feng Shui, ensuring a good “energy flow”.

The archway says, Zhong Guo Cheng (China Town).

Its story was told in Lew’s book, The Friendship Arch, published in 2005 and illustrated by Guy Woodland, the acclaimed photographer.

“Ben Chapman (then head of the Department of Trade and Industry in the North West and now MP for Wirral South) instigated the initial twinning talks,” recalls Lew, who had been on a business visits to China before that.

In 1993, Chapman led a delegation to China, on which Lew, then running the City Press Agency in Liverpool, was the media representative. This eventually led to the Liverpool Chamber of Commerce forging commercial and cultural links with Shanghai. These were reinforced by the official twinning in 1999.

From September 1993 for six years, Lew lived in Beijing, working on the international desk of the Xinhua News Agency. The Beijing Review, the weekly politics, culture and art magazine, China Daily and the People’s Daily, all published his articles.

“I also wrote quite regularly for the Shanghai Star,” says Lew, born in Annan, Dumfrieshire, who has been in Liverpool since the 1970s.

What’s it like, this mighty city of 20 million people, whose soil seems to be fertile enough to sprout skyscrapers? Many still think of China as a mysterious land of steaming kitchens, rickshaws and pigtails.

“No, no. It’s not like that – no rickshaws, “ he says. “Pigtails are part of the colonial past and imperial China. When the Communists came, people who had them, cut them off.

“There is a cacophony of sound which could drive you to distraction, but doesn’t. It is just an endless bustle and throb of life and humanity, which is astonishing. I have not experienced it anywhere else in the world. You can feel the very heartbeat of life. Energy is the thing. It is the most invigorating place. It can be very exhausting.

“A constant throng of people moves back and forth, but there would also be people sitting around on street corners, some older people chatting or playing mah-jong and smoking or eating noodles or dumplings.

“There is a great contrast between the westernised Shanghai and the old Chinese Shanghai. The sad thing for me is the demise of the bicycle. If you got into a bike flow – and I used to cycle all the time – it was like being in a flock of birds. You became part of the whole. Most westerners try to be individualistic, but you got caught up in this corporate movement.

“There are still old shops selling Chinese medicine and Chinese foodstuffs. Supermarkets used only by the Chinese sell live eels, live fish, live chickens, pickled frogs and insects by the bucket load. There are scorpions and spiders, which you can deep-fry and have as a luscious snack, or, perhaps, a sparrow on a stick, which has been coated in toffee or apple sauce.”

Does he like these dishes.

“Like is a strange word,” says Lew. “I can’t say that I really liked them, but I did eat them. I have eaten scorpion and snake and live fish and live prawns (live until the chewing begins, that is). Chinese food is to do with texture rather than taste. China is an eating culture. It is essential ingredient in Chinese life.

“Despite all the super highways and skyscrapers, essential Chinese values haven’t changed. But many people absorb China through western eyes with all our assumptions.

“As the years progress you realise that you know less and less until you get to the stage where you realise that you know nothing. It is a complete reversal. I am constantly surprised by China.”

Even so, our man is a fine guide, fervent in his appreciation of two grand ports, from which many brave men, women and children have sailed in faith and hope, always bonded by the human spirit.

davidcharters@dailypost.co.uk