How your dog throwing up at 3:50am can turn into a good thing
With just a couple days left until I embarked on my 51-day journey through India and Nepal, I still had a large to-do list, and more stress than I needed. Trying to wrap up two website transfers (and one new web site design) on top of packing, final shopping, and, oh, maybe actually figuring out WHERE I was going to travel to upon arrival I felt a bit stressed out.
Getting around 6ish hours of crappy sleep a night wasn't really cutting it, so this night, going to bed before 1:30 was something of a treat! Until Jasper (the puppy) started throwing up at 3:50 a.m.
So up I jump (as a friend and I once quipped, nothing will wake you faster than the sound of your dog vomiting) and then cleaned up the large pile of dog puke. Before he could eat it back up again. Ugh. The outside for a pee for both dogs, and finally back into bed with the to-do list still on my mind.
Tick... tick...tick.. Now it's 5:00am, dogs are snoooooozing, and I am not. I opened my laptop and started to work. Bam! Just like that a mini-epiphany with one of the sites I was working on came through. And all of a sudden that was basically done! And just like that, work just flew from my feverish fingers as I had the most productive 2.5 hours of work I'd had for a while.
After that jaunt, I was able to fall back asleep fast for a couple of hours, and woke up to tackle the last bits of my to-do list with a lot more relaxation knowing I'd gotten that work done.
Now as long as the pups don't think puking in the middle of the night can be a good thing (for me, that is) this one time, it was.
When it's not what you thought it would be
Perhaps for some, their life is exactly what they imagined it would be — married/2 kids/picket fence, or perhaps independent/entrepreneur/nomad. I figured by this time in my life that I would've fallen in love, married, and popped out a couple of kids.. Had a family, been successful, and all that good sh*t.
But it's not. My life is a far cry from what I had hoped it would be.
I've never been one to be in long-term relationships. I probably have commitment issues — once being told "Sarah, you run from the good toward the bad." Seldom to exact lines stick in my head, but this one did. That's probably part of my 'single' problem. Well, that and Disney. (Really, a prince is going to come along and whisk me off my feet? More like the fantasy in my head about random dude that I'm crushing on will whisk the rug from under my feet than carry me off into the sunset.) But I digress. The fact that nothing has worked out is at least 50% my fault.
Back in 2007 I was tired of my self-employed life of a graphic designer, and decided to pursue a second degree. I wanted to DO SOMETHING with my life, my career, my forty-plus hours a week that made the world a better place for people. I had some ridiculous altruistic fantasy that my life has some sort of purpose and meaning. That with my days, I could make the world a better place. When really, I need to just make my world better for me, because so many days I'm such a miserable fuck, that my time spent fantasizing about eco-friendly design and clean air were pretty much a waste.
So I went back to school. For three years, I busted my ass to earn a second bachelor's degree, while still running my business full-time, keeping a house, a dog, a on- and off-again social life, and breaking up with the one guy that was probably the closest chance I had to fulfill my white picket fence dream.
But it was OK. It was all going to be great! I was going to get THE JOB. I was going to be a design researcher and strategist. Soemthing I would have guffawed previously, but during school realized that I enjoyed and was GOOD at doing this.
Hurrah! I can (help) save the world.
Or not.
Two years later, and what I thought was a respectable number of rejected job applications later (thanks to the 'friend' that told me I didn't try hard enough enough. Which kind of like having someone spit on you after you'd already been kicked when you were down) I decided to stop trying to find a job. Apparently, I'm not qualified.
Or am I?
I started writing this post on Oct 2, 2012. I was feeling pretty shitty about myself that night, and have a part of this that I've deleted as it was just rambling of nothingness. But going back through all my posts and rereading this previously unfinished one, I decided that I needed to post it. Especially because in such a short period of time arriving to India and thoroughly changing my feelings and perspective in life, it was good to re-read this, to be reminded of how I've felt over the past couple of years about my "American Dream"
Negative? Yes. I was in a hole of negativity and sadness. For a while I was. Difficult when I first got back from China, and even more difficult as the months passed and no job offers came in. What the hell was I doing wrong? I felt as though I didn't fit into my previous life in Denver, and was never as happy as I'd been before. But where was I supposed to go? What was I supposed to be doing?
When I finally decided to put my house on the market, everything seemed to go much faster and easier. I would say "I can't find a job or a man, so I'm going to sell my house." An act of desperation it seemed at times, but when I couldn't do anything about the other two big deals in life, I went for another one.
My house sold in 12 hours. For the full amount. Cash deal. No appraisal, no inspection.
Uh, maybe I found my new path?
I'd decided that I was going to hold off on the job search for a while - until I returned from Everest - as I was sure this would be one of those 'life changing, spiritual journeys' that we'd all read about. (Did Julia Robert's character get food poisoning in Eat Pray Love? They should've put that in there, then it would be more realistic).
Extending my 19-day Everest trip into a 51-day personal journey was perhaps the best decision I'd made in 18 months. Tho it wasn't without stress (like am I really going to generate enough income in a very short amount of time to cover all my expenses for 7+ weeks of travel?!) Yes. I was. And I did. Almost to the dollar (when I added up the final invoices) the money was there and off I went.
So maybe this isn't white picket dream. Perhaps it's better.
My new Serbian friend whom I met in Jaipur sent me this in an email yesterday (being Nov 6) And I think it wraps this up quite nicely.
With my better mindset and happier soul, I bid you goodnight.
================================
My day made me think of a poem, that might as well ring a certain bell in your head:
The road not taken, by R. Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
One year and two weeks later
So you'd think around the anniversary of my Coming Back to America (which thus resulted into my "massive reverse-culture-shock-omg-i-can't-get-over-how-clean-the-air-is-and-how-ignorant-and-self-rightous-my-people-are-i'm-gonna-hide-for-a-couple-weeks-drink-bourbon-and-watch-DVDs-because-I-don't-know-how-to-jive-with-this" period of life) that I'd realize that WOW it's been a year that I'm back. This time, last year I was ending one segment of life and going through a change that was more difficult than I'd been through before. It was tough. It really was. So many people, seeing my adventures via Facebook expected me to come back with Tales of the Orient.. and how amazing and magical it was.. Friend: 'OMG was it awesome?!?!?' Me: 'Uhhh, actually it was pretty intense and difficult. China is a tough place.' Friend: ' o.O ???'
I felt when I got back that no one understood what I had been through. Granted, I wasn't imprisoned in a jungle fortress by headhunters, but I wasn't chilling in the Maldives, either.
A year and two weeks ago I came back from my short five-month trip to Asia, excited for American life, and forever changed from the experiences that I had while I was away. Good and bad, they existed and I have to be a better person for it, for what else are experiences for but to allow us the opportunity to see things in a new light and (eek!) change ourselves.
I read an article in a local ex-pat magazine this week, written by a Chinese woman, about the benefits of living in Shanghai, and not knowing how to speak Mandarin fluently. How as an American (or any ex-pat) you can sail through life, oblivious to the conversations going on around you – the arguments, the negotiations, the small talk – and pretty much live in a dream world.
She's right.
When I first arrived in Shanghai, I was frustrated by not understanding what was going on around me, not knowing what people are saying, and by the difficulty of bartering a price in the market. When people would talk to me, I could say nothing in return but 'thanks' or 'no'. And even now, that I've picked up some Mandarin to where I can put together tiny sentences, I still have no idea what is going on around me.
It's actually, pretty nice.
For a person who always likes to know what is going on around her (and likes to have a handle on it all too) it took a while for me to let it all go, and just jump in the back of that cab and go for an insane, horn-filled, jerky car-sick inducing ride. I now love sitting at a table with my wonderful coworkers, and just stare off into lala land while they talk about life in Mandarin. (Though there are many lunches in English too, don't get me wrong, it's not ALL Mandarin.). And while I am still distracted by the random old women speaking very LOUDLY in the grocery store, I have no idea why they are talking about noodles so loud, and really — does it even matter?
I think it's easy to become so caught up with everything else going on around us in life — the hustle of a large city, social networking, 24/7/365 lifestyles, smart phones, media coverage of everything — that we forget to forget about it all and just remember what is important. Or even more so, we stop paying attention to ourselves, and just focus on everybody else. At least I know that I do.
Now that I've realized how blissful ignorance really can be, I'm going to start practicing it. Not in an ignorant way of "Oh, nothing around me matters, I am all there is." but "Everything around me will do it's own thing, regardless of what I am doing..so I am going to focus on me, and not them."
I'm calling this blissful simplicity. It's my new religion, and you can join too.
Admittedly in the U.S., when calling different phone numbers for the bank, airlines, credit card, etc., I would roll my eyes at the "para continuar en Espanol, marque dos" ( to continue in Spanish, press 2 ) at times, thinking "if you are living in the US, you should know how to speak English."
Well, a girl can change her mind, right? Being a non-Mandarin speaking resident, and have a new found appreciation of the "Press 2 for English" option. Or "Reply E for English" in texts. Or best of all – the English option on the ATM.
I have been doing my best to learn Mandarin, it takes a while to learn – especially while working full-time and still running a business back home. But I can ask how much something costs, give a taxi driver directions, common phrases (please, don't know, where's bathroom, excuse me) know left & right and other directions (further, here, there), numbers, colors, days, and some different foods. I want to know more – lots more. Fluent one day if possible. Actually, I'd like to be fluent in multiple languages. Or half-fluent at least. That would be a start. Mandarin, Spanish, Italian, German and....well, that's probably enough for now.
Shanghai has such a large population of Westerners, that you really don't ever need to learn how to speak Mandarin (as long as you stick to the expat venues), and it's a shame, really. Menus in many places (even smaller local restaurants) are written in Mandarin and English, and have photos of the food too. All Europeans use English to communicate as well. It seems to be second language in Shanghai.
I overheard one loud American girl in the bar last night — who was the epitome of why people don't like Americans — speaking loudly about how she finally got to use her "Chinese" when she went to Taiwan, and how she never has to use it in Shanghai because "everyone speaks English". All I could think was "since you paid so much to learn Mandarin, why not just use it?" So what if you don't have to, just do it because you can. Anytime I successfully say something in Mandarin and the person understands me, I'm happy! Like the time I got into a cab, told the driver "Wo yao qu, ba yi er Changde Lu" and he repeated it once (standard), I said yes, and he started to drive. Yes! I was stoked! Typically we go back and forth 3-5 times to confirm the address, and they speak to me like I have a clue of what they are talking about. I usually just answer "hao" (good) until they start to drive. Haven't been lost in at least six weeks, so must be doing something right. ;)
Understanding what people are saying is more difficult than speaking. But sometimes I pick up a couple pieces of what someone says and I do a tiny mental victory dance because for that second, I was no longer just staring into space, but (almost) a part of the conversation.
Until I can understand Mandarin Chinese, or read a menu, I appreciate the English options. And the English signs, or pinyin sign. And won't be rolling my eyes when I call a consumer line when I'm back in the US, or having to take that extra step on the ATM to pick out English. Because here, I'm the migrant worker — just trying to live and succeed, and hopefully develop a vocabulary that will enable me to chat with the woman at the fruit stand about the weather one day.
Wǎnshàng hǎo. Yǔ zàijiàn.
Good day, bad days...strolling through the haze
Don't get me wrong, life in Shanghai isn't a constant bowl of cherries. Granted, I tend to write more about the interesting experiences out here because, well, no one really wants to hear about a bad day through a blog unless there is humor in it. We all appreciate someone else's suffering – we've been there. And better to read than to feel it first-hand.
Living, or just existing?
As I'm experiencing life here in Shanghai, and seeing how other people live, it's certainly made me reflect on my own life a lot more (as if I weren't introspective enough). Especially with the work that I am doing at CBi — where we went into a smaller town last week to talk with some store owners, and get an idea of how to increase the local market share of a product within these smaller communities. Many of the people live in/behind their stores, which can be around 8x8' in size, to something the size of an old one- or two-car garage in the US (potential home above the store). People work 12+ hours a day in their shops, and even hang their laundry out front to dry. Many people don't see their businesses expanding, but they do it to provide for their families, to give their kids a better life. To survive.
These people certainly have joy in their lives. They have friends. A community. But are they living, or just existing? (note: not judging here, but observing.)
On the flip side, when I was working from home for a number of years, I was somewhat confined to my own home, and business, and would get cabin fever in the middle of summer being isolated so much. I definitely got into a routine of just "existing". Get up, work, walk dog, work out, sleep, repeat. I was never earning enough money to take vacations or go out and experience life on a greater scale, but would at least get out around town, and to see my family on major holidays.
Between cultures, even with vast differences between lifestyles, I feel there are different levels of existing and living that are the same, even when completely different.
But I don't want to exist. I want to live.
At some point, I think I became tired of my life in Denver. Tired of my existence. So I began to cram as much in as I could on a social level, because sitting on the couch wasn't doing it for me. I would exchange a good night's rest for a good concert in the middle of the week, and can't say I've regretted any of it – now. Probably some days, when behind on work or school work, I may have thought "ok, I really didn't NEED to go out and do x, y and z.." But at least it was fun. And what are the memories that you carry with you? A great night out with some friends and hearing some live music? Or being responsible toward someone else's pre-determined social rules that state a good girl goes to bed at a decent hour and wakes up with the birds? Granted, there were many more nights of the latter, but nothing worth writing about.
So now, in Shanghai, I am trying to live, not just exist. After a few years of watching everyone on Facebook go on vacation, and explore the world, it's my turn for some adventure. To see things I've never seen. Experience new cultures. Eat new foods. (Those who really know me would be amazed at the food I'm consuming. For example, I love eating lamb now. Yup, lamb. It's damn good here. Bring it on.) I don't want to be that person who sits in their apartment every day and night because they are afraid of what is on the other side of the door, or not up for a challenge. And challenges, yes, they are there. Every time I go out, it's an adventure. I'm getting over being bewildered all the time and the fear of being dumb because 1) no one here is really paying any attention to me, nor do they care, nor does it matter and 2) it's good to be 'dumb' because I'm challenging myself. It's easy to be 'smart' in your own world. But how smart are you in someone else's world?
Back to the point. Are you living, or just existing? The shop keepers, what are they doing? We all have our own definitions for this, one person's existence is too much of a wild ride for another. Or too boring. We can only make this determination for ourselves, and our own lives. We can view what others are doing and relate it back to our own lives as a means for pushing ourselves beyond our normal boundaries, or reeling ourselves in — but we can't judge them for their own decisions.
There is a lot I see out here that amazes me. Things I would never dream of doing (like hanging my underwear in public to dry), and things I would love to be doing (driving the Lamborghini down Huaihai Lu.) But that's my dream, my world. And in my world, I just want to live as much as I can, for as long as I can. Sure, there will be plenty of early-ish to bed nights in this life, but maybe that bed will be in Bali, or Rome, or somewhere in the States. Who knows. I sure don't. But I know this — I'm going to do my best to make it good.
Free to good home & it's a small world. No, really, it is.
I thought last week "I am going to run into someone I know from the states in Shanghai."
Yeah, sure. On the other side of the globe. Really, what are the odds?
Well, today it happened.
I was sitting in my local western favorite Wagas, drinking some coffee and working, when I turned and an American woman near me asked, "Are you from Denver?", having noticed the Love Hope Strength "Pikes Peak Rocks" t-shirt that I was wearing.
"Well, yes." I replied.
As the woman spoke and started to introduce her friends, I realized the woman sitting next to her is an Art Institute instructor that I had seen numerous times at the ID building at school! Yes folks, it happened. 9,514.44 miles from home and I run into someone I know in my new local favorite coffee shop.
Seriously. What are the odds? (note: if someone can toss a calculation in here, please, email me).
From Denver to Shanghai, and in this one coffee shop, on this one side of it, here is someone I've crossed paths with more times than I can count. Ridiculous and awesome all in one.
From there I venture on back to my apartment, and decide to turn to Wuding Lu (Lu = Road) to cut across to the street that I live on. No big difference, maybe an extra minute in walking time — though I'd normally walk a different route for efficiency sake. As I walk along, I suddenly hear "mmeeeeoow! mrow! mmmrraaw! mrow mrow mrow mrowwww". I stop. About-face and walk back eight feet to see three tiny kittens tied by their necks to an iron fence. (loosely, but shocker for me.) They are distressed. Two are up and crying. One is on its back, and I assume half-dead. What do you do? I assess the situation and options, and head home, messaging three locals that I know to get some input while contemplating buying milk (and plastic gloves) and feeding them. Or getting a box and bringing them home. I have an eye dropper and have bottle fed kittens (baby lynx, to be exact, in Montana at a ranch) and could certainly take care of these little fellas.
I discuss the scenario with my roommate upon returning home. I have to do something — though did contemplate "survival of the fittest" and for maybe the first time in my life, thought of doing nothing. (As if that could happen). Don't worry, I did something.
Thirty minutes later, my roommate and I head back. Container of warm milk, plastic gloves, eye dropper, bedding, cardboard, and digital camera in hand.
When we arrived back in the scene – hurrah!! The kittens were gone! I assume "Yes! near a western breakfast eatery – someone has rescued them!!" But then we talk with a man out front, and oh – here they are, inside the gate. No problem. I don the gloves and start to feed the little guys, who seem much more active now that they aren't tied down (especially the one that was previously on its back). Two resist some feeding but I win, and one is most happy to have something. And now I feel better knowing that they at least have something else in their bellies, after having been dumped by the human who owns the house cat that had this litter around a month ago.
We take some pictures, and set up 'camp' for them so there is at least some shelter with the scarf and cardboard. Already having researched animal rescue operations in Shanghai I know that I'd have to care for them until a home was found, and as allergic as I am, and with my roommate's puppy, they are best off here for the time being. I post ads online in search of people who can help and hope to have a good ending to this story soon.
(note: I will certainly let you all know what happens, and have actually received a response from someone interested in them. I will check up on "Cookie", "Spice", and "Jack" in the morning before work, and do what I can to help them out.
English tea, Muay Thai and IKEA
Gotta love a big city. For my birthday, English tea with my roommate. The day after, taking my first Muay Thai (Thai kickboxing) class. The day after that? Ikea, of course. English. Thai. Swedish.
Oh, and don't forget going to watch the Superbowl at 6am on a Monday morning! Have now discovered that it's very common for bars to dilute their alcohol here (stick with beer/wine) but I'm sure I got more than my needed sodium intake by drinking a few bloodies at sunrise, in hopes the Steelers would pull off a win.
Ikea was a madhouse at 2pm on a Friday afternoon! But cheap and wonderful. A sweet older Chinese woman adopted me at lunchtime, allowing me to sit at her table — even though there ended up being 4 in her party, and there were only 4 chairs at the table.. The cafeteria was completely packed! really not an empty seat around and there were probably at least 400 of them. I see this empty table, and go and hover with her.. She raises her pointer finger..."one?" I assume she means. I nod. Previous sitters depart, and we sit. I have a small salad and chocolate mousse, tonic water and coffee. I think she enjoys watching me prepare my coffee and such.. Maybe a little cultural exchange for her? I had no napkin (all dispensers were empty). She pulls out her little packet of scented tissues and hands me one. "xie xie" – I thank her. She pulls out another, puts it in her pocket, and slides the rest over the table to me. "xie xie" I say again. While I had some in my bag that I forgot about, I wanted to accept this loving gesture, and I don't know if I could actually use the tissues, these little tokens from my temporary Chinese grandmother.
As I eat my food, she keeps looking (I think for her husband) but her children (I assume) are who come to the table. Oh, how funny to see the expressions on their face to see their Mother sitting with the only white girl in the house! We move and adjust things, her giant purse still sitting on the seat next to me.. The daughter sits to her left, across from the purse. The son, stands around, doesn't want the seat and walks off. Eventually another woman, perhaps in her 60s comes to sit. Again, smiles at their new friend for lunch.
I look through my pocket phrasebook, but can't find anything that reads "you are so kind". So all I can do is smile. The man pulls up another chair, given by the table next to us, and they are all eating now too. With my small meal, I'm already done, and ready to head back into the swarm of shoppers to see what I can find. Sometimes, you don't need to know more than how to say "thank you" to express gratitude. But I swear, I would have given her a hug if it would have been OK.. You see, with such a dense population, people really just push to get through, and some common courtesies that we have in the U.S. just don't exist within this culture (nothing wrong, of course, just different). It can be trying at times when in crowded areas, still trying to figure out basics of the language, to just do the simplest of things (like getting food in Ikea, or grocery shopping) where it's common for someone to just push in front of you and place an order, go through a door first, etc. It certainly takes some getting used to, and perhaps it's good for me to drop the courtesies for a while, and just be a survivor like everyone else. But for this moment, there was kindness, in her eyes and her heart, and no longer was I just trying to survive, but sharing a mid-day meal with a kind soul.
Happy Spring Festival, we love fireworks, and adrenaline rushes.
What an amazing week! After spending some great days with my parents, exploring some of the amazing museums, and restaurants of Shanghai, I was now on my own. The first cab ride I took alone, coming to my apartment, honestly brought about a small tinge of apprehension, and the thought of "what the hell am I doing?"....But, all of these feelings have quickly subsided and I've come to enjoy the adventures (and frustrations) that await me everyday that I walk outside.
What we call Chinese New Year, is really their Spring Festival, but I guess it goes by both names.. Here the holiday ends up lasting for a week, and one big tradition is to light off fireworks to help ward off evil spirits. But now, as my roommate describes, it's also a competition of who gets the first one lit, and who has the biggest bang. This past Wednesday (Feb 2, 2011) I decided to wander the streets of Shanghai, and take photos of the fireworks — which had been going off sporadically for a couple days, but were in FULL EFFECT today! Starting around noon. (it's about the bang!) Sitting in my apt. at 7pm, working on a job and not being able to take it anymore, I grabbed my tripod and camera, and earplugs, and set out. Well I only had to go as far as my front gate for my first experience — 20x20' area covered in the fireworks paper, and a gentleman lighting off the mortar shells.. no pretty sparkles, just one LOUD bang and light (with earplugs, my ears still were ringing! Honestly, this man has got to be partially deaf by now.)
Adrenaline rush, commence.
I snap a few shots, get pegged in the cheek by a piece of shrapnel (a good 30' away from the lighting of the fireworks. Check. 50' is better.) and head off around the corner. 1/3 of the way down the block, more fireworks going off. At the end of the block, they are being lit in the middle of the street. All along the block, random piles of trash from the fireworks. Constant explosions everywhere. I'm loving it. Laughing, in awe. Adrenaline, pumping.
I continue on around the block, and pop into the Belgian beer bar below my future intern office, deciding I needed a stiff drink to get back into battle. I've learned that a good glass of whiskey makes any situation easier.
Heading now toward in the direction of the Bund (river front area where I wanted to be at midnight) I hop in a cab, and ask him to take me to a neighborhood where I saw lots of decorations along some shorter streets, thinking there would be something interesting going on to check out. I say "Yongshou Lu" and point it and "Yan'an Lu" out on the map. He repeats the names, I repeat, he repeats, I repeat (typical for me in cabs). Ok, we're off. Taking a new route to my destination (also typical in cab) I start to think "hm, we're going a bit far east...it's probably ok, different route." and then see the large illuminated bridge ahead, which means I'm about to cross the river. Too far east! Two words in my current vocabulary are "no" and "there" which was convenient as there was an exit ramp there.. A brief moment of "shit! what do I do now?!" look through my phone, first number of an American (fluent in Chinese) that I just met – busy. Scroll down the phone. Ah! The concierge at the Ritz! Yes! Another American I met said - put this in your phone, you can call them for anything. Brilliant. I call. They answer. Language translation occurs. Yes. Back on track.
So finally, midnight, on the Bund. I have video, but you can't hear the depth of hundreds of fireworks going off every minute, from every direction around you. Perhaps best described as if you were an ant on stage at the world's largest tap dancing recital — without the choreography. Awesome. Loving it. And, of course, ran into my friends that gave me the Ritz number (in this small town of 23M) and got to share that antidote with them, first hand.
Ended the evening wandering into the House of Blues and Jazz, listing to a great group called Moonshine Society, from Maryland, of all places. Overpriced drinks, but awesome atmosphere. Made friends with a couple Italians I had a momentary encounter with along the Bund about an hour previously, and now, my phone has a whopping 10 contacts in it. :) Life is good.
Brrrr!! And other things Shanghai.
It's been an adventure so far, and I've only been here for 2. 5 days. :)
After a nice weekend in Cali (where I got to relax with my good friend, Brian, and do some 'nothing' for a bit), I hopped on the very large Eastern China airliner with my parents and began my journey into the unknown. For someone that likes to communicate as much as I do, it's difficult not being able to speak (or read) the language, but I am learning, and will be able to get around more — without having to rely on other's speaking English.. I made my first Chinese friend on the plane, Rocky (not Balboa), who was kind enough to teach me how to say "excuse me" and "where is the bathroom" — crucial sayings for any country! He also helped explain WTH I was learning to recite in my Rosetta Stone Mandarin lessons, and cleared so much up in 10 minutes that I actually felt as though I had a better grasp on this small portion of the language that I am trying to tackle. Yes. It is a difficult language. And yes, I will learn enough of it (hopefully soon) so I don't feel like an ass when buying a bottle of water or bartering for wonderful knockoff electronics at the Cybermart.
According to one book, I'm still in the "honeymoon" phase, where everything is just awesome and amazing! Well, I wouldn't quite go that far, I think I'm a bit more grounded than that (though ironically, I did have cold feet waking up a few mornings before I left Denver.) Still, Shanghai is quite an impressive city so far. Illuminated buildings that almost act as billboards are here and there.. The Nanpu bridge that you take over the Huangpu River when you enter into town from the airport was also illuminated yellow and really just a great welcoming into the city. A large building to the northwest end of it with horizontal bars of colored lights that move and appear to wrap around the building with Chinese characters in white spelling out who knows what in the middle..
Oh, and then there are the taxi rides. If you know me, you know I am not the biggest fan of being a passenger.. Well, I knew before I left Denver that I would need to let that fear go – and fast! (Thanks to Brian for a good intro into riding in fast cars with rally-style drivers, you wonderful nut. You would love driving here, everyone is like you.) Anyway, driving is insane by our American standards, but everyone here drives the same so it works! Might is right – if you are a bus, you have the right of way, anywhere, anytime. The smaller you are, the faster you have to get out of the way! Oh, stop lights seem to be a suggestion...or at least a red light means you still have 5 seconds to go through.. busses to bicycles, they all whip around, honking, but it just f l o w s.... my parents keep waiting to see someone get hit, but I think the system works better than that. (tho when you see an old man pushing a scooter through an intersection, against the light, talking on a cell phone, with a bus coming, you do tend to wonder...) I'll have to video from a good intersection or two to share.. ha. or maybe from the cab ride (note: front seat is the only seat with a seatbelt.. back seats they are hidden by the nice seat coverings). If this was America, there'd be accidents everywhere and people screaming on their cell phones.. here, they just honk, brake, swerve, merge and speed.
It is pretty damn cold (0 degrees centigrade and 85% humidity currently) but nothing that 24 layers of clothing can't fix. Underdressed for the past two days, I actually found long underwear in the Gap for a decent price — though I could have purchased on the street for next to nothing, along with a scrunchie, fuzzy toilet seat cover, umbrella, cherries, spring festival decorations and some CDs. (that was one block.. street vendors that I've only seen at night so far.) I think I am the only person (aside from my Mom) that I've seen wearing a hat, too.
Lots more to talk about, amazing that I've only been here for 2.5 days.. have certainly experienced a lot already! Have an apartment, met my roommate. Had lunch with my new boss and her husband (they are super nice) and met the research team and other staff at China Bridge (also, incredibly nice people!) Never in my life have I received such a warm welcome by people that 1) I don't know and 2) that I will be working with. I actually can't wait to get started to work after the holiday!! (ok, a day after the holiday – go Steelers!!!) Kindly, my roommate – Azure – has invited me to go to some of the spring festival (AKA Chinese New Year) happenings with her and her sister, and maybe to meet her family too.. really, couldn't have asked for a nicer setup to live (8 minute walk to work) with very nice roommate, cute little dog, and for homesickness: Starbucks just next door (after all, what is more American than reeking like Starbucks for half the day?)
Oh, and my last words for this post: to get over jet lag, just don't sleep for a solid day before coming out, and if you can, have a completely irregular sleep schedule to begin with (like me, ha.) Was asleep early the first night (maybe by 10pm) but feel totally in sync with it now.
Over and out, campers.