The lavatory used to be made of wood but very few of these remain now. Modern versions adopt a similar flushing technology to that used on airplanes. But in the past, every family had to take out the waste in the evenings where someone would come to collect it. After dinner, electric cookers have to be put in the toilet for storage. There is usually not even enough space for an extra soy sauce bottle in the kitchen! 

The houses are very efficient when each area of space is used intelligently. A room to the side is occupied by my uncle and his family. The stairs on the right lead to the living room, where the ceiling is sloped. In the nook where the roof meets the wall, a small idol is placed for worshipping.  

The living room is divided by a partition, with the inner part transformed into a bedroom, which is a few stairs higher than the rest of the room. The partition acts like a counter, where people can see through to the other space. The small room appears to be very full. The aged wooden beams and dormers appear like manuscripts recording the fluctuations of time. 

The evening sunlight splays through the dormers, casting a warm glow onto my great aunt’s wedding photo, which has become slightly discolored. Though the photo was taken some time afterward, it still acts as a faithful record to the happy coupling of my great aunt and uncle. The cool wind enters through one dormer and breezes back out through another. The coolness it brings puts me at ease and confers peace on the building. I tell my great aunt I am going to the Expo tomorrow and she wants to join me. It has been billed as a great event in the history of the city, and the nation as a whole. 

I agree to return again tomorrow. As I leave my great aunt’s house, she sees me off in the traditional way, walking down half the stairs and turning on the lamp for me. Under the faint light, I take my steps carefully. As I glance back at her and wave, I feel a great warmth for the traditional lifestyles of ordinary Shanghai people.