Something I keep returning to in my thoughts is the significance of travel, and how it changes us. It’s not as simple or easy as visiting somewhere else in the world, and then resuming normal living. If our eyes were open, we have changed. Travel exposes us to new cultures, new ideas. We absorb our environment: it changes us. Understanding how our environment shapes us is fundamental to design practice.

Visiting California in 2003 changed me: it solidified my decision to become a designer. Moving to Brighton in 2007 changed me by exposing me to a vibrant community of smart people doing exciting things. Visiting China in 2009 increased my awareness of my own country.

One thing that we take for granted is our freedom. It’s almost a cliché, but not quite. I was reminded recently how it isn’t yet a cliché; it’s far from a meaningless word, and it’s not something we should take for granted.

—

So when the British National Party secured two seats in the European Parliament as a result of the polls on June 4th, I felt mixed. There is no question that the British National Party is a deceitful party with unacceptable views. There is no question that it’s extremely depressing that so many British people voted for them. But I was sad at how people were dealing with it—after the results were published, Twitter was full of angry, violent, anti-democracy messages.

If the last few months have taught me anything, it’s how lucky we are as a nation to have an open dialogue with our government and politicians. We have press freedom: we make fun of our politicians. We don’t keep them on a pedestal: we keep ‘em firmly in the sty. And we take it for granted.

June 4th 2009 was also the 20th anniversary of massacre in Beijing—the anniversary of a deeply censored, taboo event which occurred in 1989, when the Chinese government murdered an unknown number of students demonstrating in Tiananmen square. Bystanders were also murdered, and even those in their houses, when stray bullets went through the thin walls.

Aiming ultimately for democracy, what the students wanted—initially—was simply a conversation. Talks failed, the government lost patience, and an estimated thousands died. The extent of the coverup and subsequent brainwashing is shocking; twenty years later, the Chinese government is shutting down websites around the event, to minimise conversation.

The Chinese government is going to extreme and ridiculous measures to keep people quiet, and the reality is that most Chinese people are brainwashed: generations will grow up knowing nothing of the event in 1989. I think it is terribly sad that the Chinese government is trusted and blindly loved by the people it deceives.

There is no doubt that learning about China has enhanced my appreciation of our freedom and democracy, and it’s wonderful that people can vote. We choose and elect; we mock and deride; we ultimately have the power.

This just popped up in my reader: a discussion hosted by Frog Design on design for the other 90% in China. The banner above is from the event; I liked it too much not to share it. That’s Chairman Mao, holding a mobile. It is emitting the light of knowledge, hope for the future, and flowers.

Sarah Lacy describes a cause for the fascination-factor with China succinctly:

What makes China so staggering is that everything that happened to corporate America over decades—think the television and media studios build out of the 1950s, the greed of the 1980s, the dot com bubble, the build out of physical and IT infrastructure, current Web 2.0 and CleanTech innovation—is all happening to China at once.

China is going through incredible rapid development and growth. Shenzhen was particularly interesting to visit because it’s exploding. Coastal City shopping mall is packed with tiny, expensive, homegrown brands. Development is going on everywhere: visibly and physically, with new buildings, business ventures, misguided architecture.

—

I’ve noticed that global US design companies with a China base are clustered in Shanghai: Frog Design is one of them, IDEO is also based in Shanghai, and there are many others, like Razorfish. Why are global US design companies choosing Shanghai to base their Asia office?

Shenzhen has the highest GDP of any Chinese city, but seems to lack the attraction for global design companies as Shanghai. This is possibly because Shenzhen isn’t as established as Shanghai: it’s young, formative, and under heavy development.

Shenzhen doesn’t have anything like Shanghai’s brand image. Shanghai has enough cultural sway to have its own Gothamist spin-off, Shanghaiist. Shanghaii’s skyline is identifiable enough to make it into a logo. What would Shenzhen’s Gothamist logo look like? Exactly: a construction site.

Shanghai has a strong brand image: foreigners perceive the city to be an economic centre. Shanghai is possibly a popular choice as it’s a shopping mecca: the culture may also provide commercial opportunities for design and advertising, and supply enough business to justify an Asian branch.

But I don’t know the answer. Sadly I can’t read Mandarin, I can’t find out much from Chinese websites and articles. But the culture of design, design companies in China generally, would be really interesting to explore.

So, for the meantime, questions…

Is design as we know it in the West a luxury in the East, where owning pyjamas, a bicycle and a TV is considered an excellent standard of living, and only 253 million out of a 1.31 billion population have internet access?

Eye-tracking sounds a bit silly next to something as basic as pyjamas. In fact, pyjamas are so luxurious they’re considered a bit of a status symbol…

What’s unquestionable is that there are some astonishing opportunities in China for designers. Apart from high GDP cities like Shenzhen, Guangzhou, Shanghai, and Beijing, there’s the rest of China.

Frog Design poses some interesting questions (here’s that event link again):

1. What are the key opportunities (health care, education, transport, energy, etc.) for international brands in China beyond the 1st tier?
2. What are the best ways to uncover and design for the unique needs of people living in these areas?
3. What can we learn from local Chinese brands that have been successful in 2nd tier cities?
4. How can companies leverage marketing, distribution, and pricing for business success in these areas?

I wish I could go along to this discussion in Shanghai on the 25th June with Kunal Sinha. In the meantime, I’ll watch from the ringside…

The last few weeks have been quite a physical drain. I have been packing, unpacking, re-packing, unpacking, re-packing, realising I’ve forgetten stuff, anticipating new experiences, watching many in-flight movies. Dealing with jetlag. Finally, adjusting.

As Dopplr attests, I have just spent two weeks in Shenzhen, China, followed by a couple of days back in England… followed by a week in Texas, US.

I have not had time to process my visit to China, so I am going to clarify my thoughts and experiences here, and will follow up the US technology festival in another blog post. I’m writing this because I’m wide awake at 4am GMT, and still on Austin time. Probably with a bit of China-time thrown in.

This piece of photojournalism was the first thing I read about Shenzhen, which prepared me for quite a different place than I experienced. I’m not sure it is entirely fair. But here is how it starts:

Twin cities usually grow up together. For Hong Kong and its dark alter ego Shenzhen, the relationship is something more akin to step-twins. Shenzhen was virtually decreed into existence: in 1980 Chinese leader Deng Xiaoping clicked his fingers and invited the people of dynamic, British-owned Hong Kong to make something of the 3.5 sq km stretch of fishing villages and rice paddies just over the border. What arose was a kind of twisted sister, a town of skyscrapers and sweatshops, laissez-faire business and institutionalized lust.

Tempting though it is to reduce Shenzhen to sensationalist caricature, I wouldn’t call it a “twisted sister” to Hong Kong. They didn’t grow up together, for starters: Shenzhen is brand new, and Hong Kong has history.

Shenzhen. The buildings are tall, the air is chokingly warm, and it took me about a week to adjust to the smell. There are numerous construction sites sprawling all over the city. Photos from the 1980s reveal how quickly the town has changed, and how quickly it is changing.

The people I met in Shenzhen were warm and almost overwhelmingly curious, especially since tourists and foreigners are unusual sights in the city. A visit to a park got us stared at, and even photographed. Generally, wherever we went, people were more interested in talking than not.

I liked that: there was a patient, genuine, attentive curiosity in nearly everyone I met, even those busy at work – a Starbucks barista was keen to know what I was doing there, and how long I’d be there for. Even if it was just because they wanted to practise their English or discover some juicy gossip, it was nice to be surrounded by interested, friendly people.

Day by day it got easier to cope with the smell, easier to cope with the jetlag. China is eight hours ahead of GMT, and the entire landmass somehow gets by on just one timezone, despite the official times not really coinciding conveniently with sunrise and sunset. I woke up a few hours early every day, which wasn’t such a bad thing.

Food: with some exceptions, I wasn’t a fan. It’s not easy to be a vegetarian, and even pescetarians might have a challenging time. The Chinese seem to really like fish dishes with the fish head still on, and its mouth open in an expression of agony. It’s just a cultural difference. I also remember seeing fried seahorses on the menu, decorating the surface of another cooked sea-creature. Then again, two weeks isn’t really enough time to sample a range of cuisine in a city, or to overcome perhaps superficial cultural bias.

I didn’t travel far out of central Shenzhen. Partly because of time, partly because of fear.

I only spent about eight hours in Hong Kong. I really wish I’d had more time. Really, the mind boggles: everywhere I looked in Hong Kong I saw something interesting. A small, hidden market packed between two skyscrapers; something in a shop window, a Buddhist temple. What I did notice was that the people ignored you more often – a stark contrast from the friendliness and warmth of the people in Shenzhen.

Hong Kong is worn in, like old shoes, or any old British city – after all, most of the streets have British names, and from 1842—1997, it was a dependent territory of the United Kingdom. Shenzhen, on the other hand, has the feeling of being brand new, which is evident from the lack of pollution, the lack of detail, the feeling that everything just sort of sprung up over night. Which it had. Shenzhen is a baby, and I hope that its problems are solved as it (and China) grows up.

I intend to return at some point, and will visit Shanghai, Xi’an, Beijing, and revisit Hong Kong and Shenzhen. It’ll certainly be interesting to see Shenzhen in five years, or even a year from now, after all the new buildings have gone up.

I returned to the UK with a new layer of perspective to filter the world, and found that everything has shifted slightly.

But I will not miss the squat toilets.