Not the Shanghai audiotour

Someone plays the trumpet. The scales glide up and down through the evening. Someone is not very talented but deserves credit for his determination to practice every weekend. The tall buildings of our compound create the perfect acoustics. The downpour adds a melancholic melody to it. 

The scales remind me of a blogpost I have planned to write forever. The title was going to be

Shanghai audiotour

I took a picture of a megaphone hanging from the metro escalator, batteries taped onto it. It announced something nobody was paying attention to. The volume on maximum. 

Another picture taken half a minute later of the tv-screen that indicates the next metro. It plays non-stop commercials that echo through the metro halls. Loud.

Few minutes later the tv-screen inside the metro that plays non-stop commercials, regardless of the voice that announces the next stop in two languages, twice for every stop. Both very loud. 

At the same time the boy with a racing game on his playstation who is not using earphones for the sound effects. Loud.

At the same time the immigrant using his mobile phone to express his feelings of anger, frustration, fear, all the time not hearing the other side clearly, working himself up to a state of rage whereby tears are rolling down his cheeks. Loud. 

At the same time the metro itself racing from one end of the city to the other. Convenient, fast, cheap, modern. Yet loud. 

etc. 

etc. 

etc.

We used to wake up to the sound of bombastic music. I called it the birthday of the big leader. It became a running joke: either the big leader had lots and lots of things to celebrate, or there were lots and lots of leaders. We found out it's the elementary school start of the day song.

I used to come home from the supermarket going bananas. They play the same single song there from 7am - 23pm. Every day. Plus tv-screens playing commercials of certain products. Plus girls advertising products using little (cheap) handset speakers clipped to their uniforms. 

We used to jump every time someone honks in traffic. There is the 'hello!' honk, or the 'hurry up' honk, the 'asshole' honk, the 'I'm overtaking you' honk, and the 'I'm coming around the corner on my electric scooter' honk. More honking than not.

etc. 

etc.

etc.

For a long time I worried about Nelson's sense of hearing. All the noise: it couldn't possibly be good for him. I have just realized that I stopped hearing the noise. I'm scared I'm deaf already.