March 18, 2007
I am not surprised.
One week in Shanghai … I am still not surprised by the near misses when our taxi speeds and veers only barely missing on coming traffic in a seemingly equal disarray on the elevated roads. I am still not surprised when after two days of planning, a traipse across the city and a standard wait in line we discover at the ticket counter that there are no tickets remaining for any of the trains leaving for our destination. I am not surprised when, during a wander through the park we are addressed in English by every Chinese person eager to have a discussion in English to learn “where are you from, do you study in China, how long have you been in Shanghai, how tall are you, how much do you weigh, do you want to talk to me, we are best friends, right?” all asked in quick succession. I am not surprised that I got charged 10 times too much for a food treat from a street stall. I am not surprised that I didn’t even notice at the time… because of the suffocating and disorienting crowds that ebb and flow along the streets. I am not surprised that after six days I feel like I have never lived anywhere else and that at the same time I have never wanted to return to Colombia so much. I have never wanted to go home… so much. I am not surprised.On Sunday, because our plans to go to Suzhou and get out of the city where thwarted, we went to the city planning exhibition near People’s Square in downtown. In case you want to see what the city will look like in 2010. For the most part it already looks like that. Huge. Sprawling. Immense. Almost elegant in miniature model form. The exhibit was truly impressive, but with all things after four stories and so many more displays I got burned out. There is only so much a girl can see in one day. And it is not like the city streets themselves aren’t a banquet for the senses- one that I choke on some times.
March 14, 2007
I take it all back & the Southern Barbarian
In just over 24 hours in Shanghai I have faced many challenges to my previous assumptions of this place. Based on my original trip to China I formed some opinions and formed some understandings.
I would like to correct myself now.
I met a wonderful young woman last night, a friend of my cousin, from England. She went out with us to a terrific Dim Sum place with red walls and all sorts of high society types. After dinner she was on her way to a wine and cheese party with some South African blokes she had met on a beach in Vietnam. (This sounds like the beginning of a geography joke.) But really she was on her way to a wine and cheese party; that always seems so mature and sophisticated. But this lead me to face a new reality that had previously eluded me.
I had previously been under the impression that for some reason, beyond my comprehension, there was no cheese in China. Aside from the fact that I really like the way those words sound, “no cheese in China” and the way they feel to say, “no cheese in China.” I regret to announce that there is in fact cheese in China, at least in Shanghai. On the other hand, being an avid lover of cheese, I am pleased. (now I sound like Dr. Suess)
While waiting for a taxi I was again forced to revise my schemata. During all my time in China and from all that I knew everything pointed to one truth. There are no big dogs in China. There is even a law in China restricting the size of pet dogs. There are many logical reasons for this as much as we can think it is ridiculous… And all my observations during my previous four months here supported that. I saw countless people will little dogs riding in their bicycle baskets, sitting on door steps and carried in bags at the train station, but never once did I see a big dog. Not until last night. A woman was exiting a taxi, but there seemed to be some commotion and a struggle getting out of the cab. It turned out that she was trying to get out without loosing control of her Golden Retriever who was frantically and excitedly trying to sneak out.
A young woman met the older woman and the door of the cab, took hold of the dog and then everything calmed down. The woman got out of the cab and all returned to normal, but I still haven’t gotten over the shock of seeing a big dog in China.
There have been several more mind blowing alterations to my perception of reality lately, but of course they are not coming to mind at this particular moment. But to further illustrate my point, at dinner tonight I discovered a delectable treat… fried goat cheese with salt and pepper. We traversed the city in the drenching rain for a restaurant... well worth the trip and deserving of the name... The Southern Barbarian, Yunnan food. But oh the cheese! I can’t begin to capture the bliss of that flavor in words… but I will attempt it anyway. Warm. Crisp yet soft; salty sweet and comforting. Eaten with chopsticks. An amusing sight. The warmth soften the taste buds and softens the soul. It calms the mind and opens the heart. Eyes roll back. It is good.
So there is cheese. Not only have I heard of its existence, I have seen it with my own eyes and tasted it with my entire being. What I have come to learn is that although it is here, it is not cheap. Maybe that explains why I did not discover it in my previous travels as I was traveling in a different economic sphere that time. Today I find myself with foreigners, working and wealth, fancy meals, cab rides and exquisite housing accommodations. So cheese may only exist for certain classes, or maybe Shanghai is chic enough to be the cheese capitol of China. But let it be known, I am on the case and will not rest until I have gotten to the bottom of this pressing question. And if that means I have to eat more of that fried goat cheese with salt and pepper, so be it. I will not rest until I know the history of cheese in China.
…
I suppose that I am learning that I don’t know everything, quite a shock to you and me I am sure… but I thought I had spent enough time here on my first to gather a fairly accurate perception of the country. Having never been to Shanghai I did not know what to expect, but I didn’t imagine that it would be drastically different than the rest of China. I have been proven wrong. There are both big dogs and cheese in China.
Just imagine what I have yet to discover!
I would like to correct myself now.
I met a wonderful young woman last night, a friend of my cousin, from England. She went out with us to a terrific Dim Sum place with red walls and all sorts of high society types. After dinner she was on her way to a wine and cheese party with some South African blokes she had met on a beach in Vietnam. (This sounds like the beginning of a geography joke.) But really she was on her way to a wine and cheese party; that always seems so mature and sophisticated. But this lead me to face a new reality that had previously eluded me.
I had previously been under the impression that for some reason, beyond my comprehension, there was no cheese in China. Aside from the fact that I really like the way those words sound, “no cheese in China” and the way they feel to say, “no cheese in China.” I regret to announce that there is in fact cheese in China, at least in Shanghai. On the other hand, being an avid lover of cheese, I am pleased. (now I sound like Dr. Suess)
While waiting for a taxi I was again forced to revise my schemata. During all my time in China and from all that I knew everything pointed to one truth. There are no big dogs in China. There is even a law in China restricting the size of pet dogs. There are many logical reasons for this as much as we can think it is ridiculous… And all my observations during my previous four months here supported that. I saw countless people will little dogs riding in their bicycle baskets, sitting on door steps and carried in bags at the train station, but never once did I see a big dog. Not until last night. A woman was exiting a taxi, but there seemed to be some commotion and a struggle getting out of the cab. It turned out that she was trying to get out without loosing control of her Golden Retriever who was frantically and excitedly trying to sneak out.
A young woman met the older woman and the door of the cab, took hold of the dog and then everything calmed down. The woman got out of the cab and all returned to normal, but I still haven’t gotten over the shock of seeing a big dog in China.
There have been several more mind blowing alterations to my perception of reality lately, but of course they are not coming to mind at this particular moment. But to further illustrate my point, at dinner tonight I discovered a delectable treat… fried goat cheese with salt and pepper. We traversed the city in the drenching rain for a restaurant... well worth the trip and deserving of the name... The Southern Barbarian, Yunnan food. But oh the cheese! I can’t begin to capture the bliss of that flavor in words… but I will attempt it anyway. Warm. Crisp yet soft; salty sweet and comforting. Eaten with chopsticks. An amusing sight. The warmth soften the taste buds and softens the soul. It calms the mind and opens the heart. Eyes roll back. It is good.
So there is cheese. Not only have I heard of its existence, I have seen it with my own eyes and tasted it with my entire being. What I have come to learn is that although it is here, it is not cheap. Maybe that explains why I did not discover it in my previous travels as I was traveling in a different economic sphere that time. Today I find myself with foreigners, working and wealth, fancy meals, cab rides and exquisite housing accommodations. So cheese may only exist for certain classes, or maybe Shanghai is chic enough to be the cheese capitol of China. But let it be known, I am on the case and will not rest until I have gotten to the bottom of this pressing question. And if that means I have to eat more of that fried goat cheese with salt and pepper, so be it. I will not rest until I know the history of cheese in China.
…
I suppose that I am learning that I don’t know everything, quite a shock to you and me I am sure… but I thought I had spent enough time here on my first to gather a fairly accurate perception of the country. Having never been to Shanghai I did not know what to expect, but I didn’t imagine that it would be drastically different than the rest of China. I have been proven wrong. There are both big dogs and cheese in China.
Just imagine what I have yet to discover!
March 13, 2007
Waking up in Shanghai
Even from the atmospheric viewpoint all the way up here on the 16th floor, I wake up to the opera of car horns, sirens and the occasional shout. The city dances below us through the notoriously thick air. The haze, like a curtain that has been drawn in front of my windows, lies heavy on the city.
Now my computer battery will die and I only just realize that the power converters I have are no good and don’t fit. So glad I brought them…. Te he. (laugh)
Hours later the problem is solved. I am connected again and feeling much better. I have had my first Chinese lesson and realized that with enough time I will be able to learn anything.
Most of this day has been spent studying Chinese, writing and eating breakfast witch was just the leftovers from dinner. The day was punctuated by a midmorning nap where again I slept like life depended on it. My cousin came home at one pm on his lunch break to bring me a key to the flat. That provided motivation to rise yet again and take on the rest of the first day in China which has been comprised of a shower, from which I feel refreshed and invigorated, a snack and a wander around the neighborhood. I haven’t managed to leave the living room yet, but have high hopes. I find that often when I travel great distances the first day is spent with minimum of movement. I think of this as time for my brain to catch up with my body. And it feels that way literally. After traveling at 1400 miles at tremendous ground speeds it is only reasonable to expect that not everything will be able to catch up. So this first day is time to gather myself.
The sun is coming out and the haze is thinning enough to make the city look inviting, but apparently it is quite cold out there.
It is midnight at home and just four in the afternoon here. The light is helpful in convincing my body what time it is and what I should be doing, but there is still a strong urge to return to the dark places under the duvet and get lost in the chaos of thoughts that works its self out as I sleep.
To ward off sleep I know that eventually I will have to go out, but I feel a strange urge now that I have traveled across the world, to just stay home. Is this me… ? Am I weird as a result of this? Any one want to take bets as to whether I will in fact leave the building today?
Now my computer battery will die and I only just realize that the power converters I have are no good and don’t fit. So glad I brought them…. Te he. (laugh)
Hours later the problem is solved. I am connected again and feeling much better. I have had my first Chinese lesson and realized that with enough time I will be able to learn anything.
Most of this day has been spent studying Chinese, writing and eating breakfast witch was just the leftovers from dinner. The day was punctuated by a midmorning nap where again I slept like life depended on it. My cousin came home at one pm on his lunch break to bring me a key to the flat. That provided motivation to rise yet again and take on the rest of the first day in China which has been comprised of a shower, from which I feel refreshed and invigorated, a snack and a wander around the neighborhood. I haven’t managed to leave the living room yet, but have high hopes. I find that often when I travel great distances the first day is spent with minimum of movement. I think of this as time for my brain to catch up with my body. And it feels that way literally. After traveling at 1400 miles at tremendous ground speeds it is only reasonable to expect that not everything will be able to catch up. So this first day is time to gather myself.
The sun is coming out and the haze is thinning enough to make the city look inviting, but apparently it is quite cold out there.
It is midnight at home and just four in the afternoon here. The light is helpful in convincing my body what time it is and what I should be doing, but there is still a strong urge to return to the dark places under the duvet and get lost in the chaos of thoughts that works its self out as I sleep.
To ward off sleep I know that eventually I will have to go out, but I feel a strange urge now that I have traveled across the world, to just stay home. Is this me… ? Am I weird as a result of this? Any one want to take bets as to whether I will in fact leave the building today?
March 12, 2007
All my bags are packed, I am ready to go… Leavin’ on a get plane.
Sunday morning greeted me with an unexpected time change and many final details to arrange and a plane to catch. With every one of these massive international departures I get a little better at being physically and mentally ready for it. I would like to think that the things that still remain undone… will cause no harm and that the countless possession I have recently released into the universe (by leaving them on the street corner in San Francisco where they are promptly adopted and put to good use as junk in yet another unsuspecting house, devoured like ants devour a carcuss) will not be missed. And most of all I hope that the stress, anticipation, anxiety, excitement and exhaustion I feel is not expressed as bitchiness to those around me, especially those taking me to the airport and helping me get the last details arranged. I know there have been several occasions where I was absolutely horrible to the dear people who delivered me on my journey…
Example: the day after graduating from college I had a flight from Boston to Europe where I would start my first such trip. This first one would be modest, six weeks in Europe, but I was still planning to travel alone, spoke only my native language and had not really even yet realized that I had graduated from college, that my life up to that point had been fulfilled and that now there was no obligation or structure… that I now had to sort it all out. We can all fantasize about how great it would be to feel like that again… but that is because we are very forgetful creatures. From my own experience and that of many others of my generation I want to claim the year after college as being some of the hardest times. And maybe I will go into that more later… but the point being that I was about to hop onto a plane, travel half way around the world to unknown lands, languages and a world of people that sort of terrified me… just because it was exactly that unknown.
Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess that morning too, so much so that I didn’t even know it. My grandmother and my mother drove me the two hours to the Boston Airport. That drive is among the top worst moments of my behavior in life. I don’t know what I said or what I did, but I know that I was just terrible. The drive was a blur, but what is still so clear in my memory is the moment I heard the car door close behind me, my feet were on the concrete and my pack hung heavy on my shoulders. The whole world was out of focus except for the ten feet or so I occupied and the car drove away. I feel like I stood there forever. I must have moved. I was trapped in a moment of “what the fuck am I going to do now.” a feeling that came to many times during that year and a number of times since. But in that moment I was first aware of the fear I felt and of the terrible way I had just treated my family.
Hopefully that part of my traveling habit is over.
So this time felt smooth. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. After a healthy waiting period in the airport I boarded a plane the size of a cruise ship. I squeezed in between two healthy American men with their magazines and entertainment gadgets for a 13 hour flight over the pole and though days. 12 hours of mind-numbing movies, a punctuated nap and a few typically foul airplane meals later I set foot on Chinese soil where it was more than a day and a half later. Time for dinner. Although my body thought it was 5 am.
I made my way easily through customs, collected my luggage and was met by a friend. We were whisked off in a taxi to her apartment. The airport is built on the edge of where the marsh meets the water and we drove over marsh land forever until we reached the Pudong district of Shanghai. I was almost blinded by the surreal quality of the life here. My friend is the mother of a life-long friend from Vermont. She moved here in September with her youngest son to teach at an American school here. The apartment comes with the teaching contract and is exquisite: spacious, elegant, clean, and quiet. If this is the simple life, sign me up. We drank tea and talked for a while then I made my way into the heart of the city to meet my cousin who also happened to be living here. He has recently graduated from art school in England and is now a graphic designer for a small company based here in Shanghai. We catch up with each other over my favorite Chinese dishes. We hadn’t seen each other in the two years since our grandfather’s funeral… but he has always been of my favorite cousins. In a family of men there a few women. I am the oldest of 17 cousins most of them male. Of the clan I am the only only child so it is nice to find someone I can claim as family. I have adopted some cousins and a few friends as honorary family members. Now I have siblings too.
Early into the evening, just before I have no more energy, we settle into his comfortable flat on the 16th floor. I crawl into the sleeping loft and sink into the haze that has been creeping into my bones and from behind my eyelids for many hours now. The sleep sweeps me away, like jumping into a pool. There was no hesitation and no going back.
Example: the day after graduating from college I had a flight from Boston to Europe where I would start my first such trip. This first one would be modest, six weeks in Europe, but I was still planning to travel alone, spoke only my native language and had not really even yet realized that I had graduated from college, that my life up to that point had been fulfilled and that now there was no obligation or structure… that I now had to sort it all out. We can all fantasize about how great it would be to feel like that again… but that is because we are very forgetful creatures. From my own experience and that of many others of my generation I want to claim the year after college as being some of the hardest times. And maybe I will go into that more later… but the point being that I was about to hop onto a plane, travel half way around the world to unknown lands, languages and a world of people that sort of terrified me… just because it was exactly that unknown.
Needless to say, I was a bit of a mess that morning too, so much so that I didn’t even know it. My grandmother and my mother drove me the two hours to the Boston Airport. That drive is among the top worst moments of my behavior in life. I don’t know what I said or what I did, but I know that I was just terrible. The drive was a blur, but what is still so clear in my memory is the moment I heard the car door close behind me, my feet were on the concrete and my pack hung heavy on my shoulders. The whole world was out of focus except for the ten feet or so I occupied and the car drove away. I feel like I stood there forever. I must have moved. I was trapped in a moment of “what the fuck am I going to do now.” a feeling that came to many times during that year and a number of times since. But in that moment I was first aware of the fear I felt and of the terrible way I had just treated my family.
Hopefully that part of my traveling habit is over.
So this time felt smooth. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. After a healthy waiting period in the airport I boarded a plane the size of a cruise ship. I squeezed in between two healthy American men with their magazines and entertainment gadgets for a 13 hour flight over the pole and though days. 12 hours of mind-numbing movies, a punctuated nap and a few typically foul airplane meals later I set foot on Chinese soil where it was more than a day and a half later. Time for dinner. Although my body thought it was 5 am.
I made my way easily through customs, collected my luggage and was met by a friend. We were whisked off in a taxi to her apartment. The airport is built on the edge of where the marsh meets the water and we drove over marsh land forever until we reached the Pudong district of Shanghai. I was almost blinded by the surreal quality of the life here. My friend is the mother of a life-long friend from Vermont. She moved here in September with her youngest son to teach at an American school here. The apartment comes with the teaching contract and is exquisite: spacious, elegant, clean, and quiet. If this is the simple life, sign me up. We drank tea and talked for a while then I made my way into the heart of the city to meet my cousin who also happened to be living here. He has recently graduated from art school in England and is now a graphic designer for a small company based here in Shanghai. We catch up with each other over my favorite Chinese dishes. We hadn’t seen each other in the two years since our grandfather’s funeral… but he has always been of my favorite cousins. In a family of men there a few women. I am the oldest of 17 cousins most of them male. Of the clan I am the only only child so it is nice to find someone I can claim as family. I have adopted some cousins and a few friends as honorary family members. Now I have siblings too.
Early into the evening, just before I have no more energy, we settle into his comfortable flat on the 16th floor. I crawl into the sleeping loft and sink into the haze that has been creeping into my bones and from behind my eyelids for many hours now. The sleep sweeps me away, like jumping into a pool. There was no hesitation and no going back.
March 7, 2007
Remembering the old life
an evening in San Francisco, as a tourist in my old life... with several former students (whom are all maturing, beautiful and wildly technological people) i walked through the old habits of my old life. Any one who knows me knows that i like routine and am a very habitual person. I also am a fan of a particular Indian restaurant and have over-played it, but we still go as much for the great food as the habit. We eat and are obnoxious; we laugh and drink sweet tea. Life is good and it is nice to have it here to come back to... as much as it is valuable to have this as a frame of reference... and to again be able to see my old life with the new eyes of a stranger.for that is what i am ... a stranger. I am a stranger in my own city, a stranger in my own home and a stranger in my old life...
and so much for habits... lets go on a trip most of the way around the world and leave all the we know and get rid of all that we own... so much for habits. ... unless that is the habit itself.
So long old life! Farewell
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