i feel love

I've been meaning to really for real organize my pictures in a navigable format for interested parties to peruse. This means I opened Picasa and looked through them myself without doing much by way of organization.

Currently I'm sitting not far (I mean, I can see it out the window here) from where the Sheboygan River spits out into Lake Michigan at Nana's. And since in Kansas City, I reflected on my Wisconsin heritage, I should, while in Wisconsin, reflect on my farther back heritage. Which means I'll post this picture and leave it at that (that Nana's, and therefore, my, people came from Slovenia) because it's 1am, and even though I'm rather wide awake, my brain cares not to think too much at this hour except to be amused by my motley bloodline, a fact mi nombre belies.

Slovenia Pavilion, World Expo in Shanghai, June 2010

"you brought all this just to spend one night??"

-- Lucy Andrew, spunkiest first grader in Shanghai.

 

We packed up on Sunday and moved out of our Huai'an penthouse on Monday amazingly smoothly; the only obstacles were our disbelief that the time had come and our lack of motivation to do anything about it. The other teachers will be picked up at the apartment, driven to Shanghai and be put up in a hotel by their school later this week. We woke them up to say goodbye on our way out and were lucky to have Tim and Thomas awake enough to carry some bags out to the front gate, where we caught a cab the 3km to the bus station, where we loaded onto a bike taxi to the steps of the station, where Vence met us to join the spectacle and help us carry everything to the gate. 

 

Teary goodbye, last sights of our city, and a six hour bus ride later we got to Shanghai. It was "mei you, mei you" at the train station for our tickets to Gansu, and on top of schlepping six bags across the province and some bully taxi drivers, we were terribly relieved to pull up to the tranquil cul-de-sac of the Andrew family's home here on the Pudong side of Shanghai. Lucy sat on the porch watching us unload our lives onto her sidewalk and followed the above question with, "Are you going to change like every second?!" The St. Louis natives are kindly hosting us, and mostly our belongings while we set off for a last exploration, before flying outta this country on the 30th.

 

Since the train plan didn't work we booked flights leaving tomorrow morning, and even though we spent an extra night here, we're gaining a day in our original travel plan, getting to Lanzhou a day before the train would have. The itinerary includes the Tibetan monastery in Xiahe, the Mogao Caves outside Dunhuang, sand dunes, and hopefully at least one yurt and/or horse trek. Doraemon, a fave, advised that during this trip, "You should just go have a funny time. Not learn so much." I think we'll do both.

 

So much has happened in the past couple weeks, and will in the next...I hope I don't forget any of it. 

journaling

March 20, after a tearful goodbye to Simon at Pudong airport I made my way back to the trashy bus station for my 7:30pm bus to Huai'an. This is from my journal that night...

From the Maglev I took Line 7 (new for the Expo, sleek, pretty quiet) to the Changshu stop to walk to Bistro Burger because a) eating a real hamburger was a priority on my Shanghai itinerary b) Simon unloaded some of his renminbi on me and c) I didn't have an appealing dinner alternative. The owner lady is very friendly and said "of course" I could get a burger to go. I had already browsed the menu so forgot to ask the next important question, how long will it take? It was already 6:40 by the time I got there. The tables outside were so enticing I headed straight to them to sit in the warm nearly-spring evening, wait and play with the wireless on my new *iPod!*

Let me back up and say that as soon as I got off at Changshu I knew I didn't have enough time. I thought, fleetingly, of getting whatever dumplings I found en route to the Bistro. Didn't see any.

The burger took 15 minutes. I didn't get the fries I thought accompanied it, but I did get a free vanilla milkshake they had made by mistake for someone else. My backpack and frantic disposition must've betrayed my poverty and desperation. Trying not to spill the shake or dismantle the burg, I trotted as quickly as I could in Danskos, too many layers, a pea coat and laden with my oversized backpack. I think I got to the Shanxi metro station at 7:05. My bus was at 7:30.

Everything unfolded without wrinkles: metro ticket, security check, train. Stand. Wait. Consume milkshake. Arrival at the railway station stop at 7:18. (The bus station is situated just north of the train station.) I ran. As fast as I could. Sweater, scarf, knee high socks, heavy backpack = overheated spectacle of a foreigner dashing through the train station's metro stop. I'm out of shape.

I had jammed 10RMB in my back pocket to take one of the scooters usually poaching the long passageway from metro to bus station. But no one was there. So I ran again. Tried, anyway. Thank heaven both the metro and bus stations were sparsely populated. I don't know how I didn't have A Dansko Incident, the frequent ankle twisting, balance toppling moments those shoes tend to give on uneven surfaces, while dashing through the construction rubble that must be what Kabul looks like.

Navigating the terrain and dodging the people in China is like you're inside a video game. If anyone else was playing, I was definitely winning.

The bus station guards waved me through the entrance. Barely breathing, sweating, I heaved my bag onto the security belt. I thought my ticket said the bus was leaving from the 2nd floor but I've never left from there before so I wasn't sure. Luckily the first floor was totally dark, so I just bounded up the stairs and bumbled down to gate #5. They were still calling out 7:30pm departures so at 7:28 I thought I was okay, but when I thrust my ticket in the gate agent's face, his eyes bulged, "Huai'an!??" and he pushed through the crowd at the door to chase down the bus. He looked back to make sure I was following. "Xièxiè!" I gasped, and he pounded on the window as the bus pulled out of its space.

The whole bus was quite surprised to see a panting weiguoren and I was quite surprised to see the whole bus consisted of three drivers and four passengers. I slumped across two seats, peeled off my layers, and as soon as I could think clearly and breathe at the same time, thanked my lucky starts at the good fortune of not only making the bus but having such a luxurious ride.

But of course, nothing is as it seems.

Approximately seven minutes later the bus putt-putted to a stop along the road, two of the drivers got off, and three minutes later, we five passengers were ushered off and on to a new bus that had pulled up behind us.

I was slow to gather my heap of belongings but all the drivers showed me the way and I stepped up into the new bus, which, I made sure, bore the characters of Huai'an as its destination.

Ahhh, yes. Now this is what a night bus to the sticks should look like, I thought, peering down the columns of weather-worn brown faces craning their necks, peering back at me. Packed to the gills. The ticket I had purchased proved I paid for a seat, and seat #1 at that, but I had lost possession of it between the worried gate agent and curious bus drivers #1, 2 and 3. I just stood at the front trying to spot an opening anywhere.

A hard-working man in the front row was nudged and forced to a seat (I hope a seat and not a stool in the aisle) somewhere in the back, outraged that he was booted for a laowei, though I didn't catch much of the exchange besides that word. I took the seat and we finally set out. The men in the seats nearby poked their heads around to get a good look at me and my belongings. I didn't pack in an old rice sack.

Shortly after, an argument breaks out in the back of the bus between one of the new drivers and who I assume is my seat martyr. All I gathered was the entire bus was now engaged in debate over the fairness of me getting the man's seat. I just contemplated my pathetic, well-traveled burger, not having to try hard to look clueless, and hoped everyone would calm down.

Eventually, they did. Before hitting the main expressway we stopped two or three times to pick up even more passengers, though I don't know where they were put and I didn't want to turn around.

All of this wasn't even the reason I got out my journal in the first place: As we pulled through a busy toll a woman approached the driver and he stopped beside a semi. The woman and another man got off the bus. Did they really only need a ride this far? We didn't continue driving after they left. Looking out the window between the passing trucks I saw the couple popping squats in the triangle bounded by the guard rails of the on ramp and toll exit. Their hunched figures intermittently were spotlighted by passing headlights. After a few minutes the woman returned and we continued to wait. Some of the drivers chuckled. Eventually the man finished his shit. He trotted back and we carried on.

My seat neighbor is dozing into my personal space. Thankfully the driver is going the 100 km/hr limit. I'll be happy to see my pillow.

new year's in shanghai

New Year's Eve isn't such a big deal here since the Chinese New Year is what everyone looks forward to (happening this year on Feb. 14, ushering in the year of the tiger), but we made it our own big deal by going to Shanghai with Jeff and Claire since we all had New Year's Day off of school. I moved my Thursday afternoon class to Wednesday so we could head out earlier, and made it to the hostel by 8pm. Jeff and Claire had gotten in earlier in the afternoon so we hopped on the metro and met them at People's Square, which was filled with thousands of, you might guess, people. And that's probably not an exaggeration since the population of the city is somewhere around 19million.

A friend of a friend of theirs, who is a Shanghai native but went to college in the U.S., met us all and took us over to the Bund, right next to the Huangpu River. My camera promptly announced it had no battery life left, so I'll have to get the pictures from Jeff before I can post any, but we had a great view of the Oriental Pearl Tower across the river. The lights on the Tower turned into a countdown, so Megan joined in with "shi! jiu! ba! qi!" and I tried to recall them but only chimed in at three/"san!" I forgot that no one else would be shouting "Hap-py New Year!" after we got to "one!" but did it anyway and smooched my date on the cheek. A spectacular fireworks show ensued and it felt really cool to be standing there at the start of 2010.

Surprisingly, the area wasn't so mobbed with people as I expected, but it got a little scary when everyone decided to turn around and head back down the street. They just move, which means plowing through with no concern for whatever other humans are in your path. A man wrapped his arms around his wife and propelled them through the crowd by using her as one of those log things people in medieval times used to knock down castle doors (what are those things called? logs?). It's very easy to see how it's not uncommon for people to die in stampedes in this country. (Schools have waves of dismissal times so there's not a horde of kids trampling each other while racing out to mommy's mo-ped.)

I asked my class who their New Year's kisses were going to be and the ones that understood gasped, blushed, and cried, "No one!" At 19 and 20, most of them still think the opposite sex has cooties I'm pretty sure. One girl said she would be in bed by midnight so I took that to mean they don't much care about seeing the clock change.

The rest of the weekend was sort of a bust: Megan had forgotten her passport here in Huai'an, the bank below the hostel started jack-hammering my eardrums at 7:30 ("We must finish for the Expo!"), and the Shanghai friend took us to the tallest building in the city, which also has the tallest prices of anything in China I've seen. It cost 150RMB (over $20) to go up to the top, and we were pretty cash strapped slash not that into it, so it was a futile, time-suck field trip. However, the bathrooms in the lobby of the tallest building had heated toilet seats, which somehow made it semi-worth the trek.

thank you, Shanghai's Swiss Chamber of Commerce, for the tiger picture: swisscham.org