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Morning was sunny, clear (with the usual haze), and 80ish. We were staying in bit of a seedy area-pretty close to the airport and 45 min. to any sights, so we took a walk to see some 3rd world sights with the kids. Pretty eye opening…dirt, wild dogs, multiple food stalls/restaurants that were in huts with old wooden and/or cement floors. Everything of course is open air-no windows-open crusty grills, fruit sold from vendors on motorcycles, and most food exposed all day. We even ventured into a couple of side streets where little old ladies were the proprietors of 15” x 10” stores attached to their homes. Joey and Hailey were thirsty soon and went into a “restaurant” where the owners were having some rice and chicken breakfast-I don't think they were open. They overcharged us for a couple of Pepsis and a water, but wouldn’t let us leave with the bottles. They put ice in plastic carry bags and poured the drinks in and provided a straw for all-carry out! All was good, until Anne realized that her bottled water was probably put in with ice made from tap water. That gave Joey and Hailey pause, so we started over as soon as possible. We ran across an elaborately decorated temple seemingly in the middle of nowhere. It had the traditional Thai architecture painted in a shiny gold. Pretty impressive sight. We wished we could have stayed until services were happening. We were a bit late as our flight was at 2 p.m., so we headed back to the hotel, checked out, and jumped into the shuttle to get there early. Bags were unloaded, we started for the door, and Anne's eyeballs were on the verge of bursting out of her sockets! "My pack! Holy Mother, did you put it in the van Doug? I laid it down next to you at the hotel! It has EVERYTHING in it--Passports, Visas, $, etc.!!" Well, we only had one sim card that worked. I sprinted to a cab, had Joey call the hotel, find our bag, check with the van, and I'd been there ASAP. We all talked about the snaffoos that we would encounter when travelling....oh boy, here we go...I grabbed the air between the cabby and myself and smothered him with the name and address of our hotel. "Do You KNOW where this is?" His quick reply, that is obligatory apparently was, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, sure, ok, ok." I was in obvious hurry/panic mode, on my face at least, and yet this guy starts putt putting down the road, looking in 6 directions, and slowing up at each fork in the road. OMG, we had a connection to catch in Jakarta, that would get us to Denpasar (Bali) at 1a.m.ish. I reiterated my need for him to know where he was going with a firmness that the man started to choke on. He asked, "Do you have a phone?" Oh god, great, I'm in charge here...I looked at him at showed him my empty sim card holder. Sooooo, down the highway we puttered, until God decided he needed to take control of this one since my guy was not going to be of much help. I wondered what the Big Guy was going to do to help. Of course, stick a police officer on the side of the road in the middle of pure flat horizons giving someone a ticket! Sweet!!! I directed him to pull over and find out where to go. Easy sneezy, and off we went. I bounced from the cab, ran into the office, and the attendant said that Anne got the bag and something about the van. Phewwwwwwww....so we head on back to the airport where Anne was waiting with the kids, but no backpack! What the...but Anne quickly let me know that she forgot that she had crammed it into her carry-on bag.....See kids, that's how these things get easily resolved!
We turned the corner where we found many fashion stores with some hilarious Chinglish…check ‘em out….
On the way home, we usually go through a walking mall of golden, marbled cement. I figure it’s about 5 blocks/a good half mile long. The cement goes around everything between the buildings. Anne and I saw the workers that were sentenced to scrubbing all of the cement with one bucket of soapy water and 2 eighteen inch scrub brushes. One worker squirted extra detergent ahead of the other scrubber. It’s got to be like the Golden Gate Bridge, where they never stop painting all year long. That’s just how long it takes before it needs it again. Sometimes you just drop your jaw and stop, stare, and wonder…Notice they’re cleaning 4-5 sections at a time.
At the end of “Golden Street”, set up one day out of nowhere, is a British Mini car display, with a chassy bolted onto a wall. Ok, I’ve seen car “shows” on that street before, but this one has huge speakers blaring hard core rap about death. Sooooo Chinese; just random events pop up over night! Or, random decisions get made!
Joey went to the Pearl Tower in Pudong and walk around an 8-10 foot section of plexiglass that hangs out on the 78th story. The picture he took is looking straight down. You can walk around the entire floor like that apparently…Pretty wild…
In China, well, Shanghai anyway, lots of services want your continued service and will give you opportunity to purchase VIP cards for various amounts of $. We found a corner shoe shiner that is now shining our shoes for $.75 since we fronted $40. He gave us a card that works like a debit card with him. Also, after going to our local hair salon-which is right across the street from the shiner-for a couple of weeks, they tried to get us to be VIP’s for $500 down. We laughed, and got them down to $125, so now, we walk in, they seat you, squirt your hair with some water, lather you up and give you a shampoo/head massage for about 5-7 minutes. When that worker bee gets done, then they start a neck, shoulder, and upper back massage. I think I started nodding off after awhile! My last one-a few days ago was literally 10 minutes. You kind of forget why you’re there. I kept telling myself, “Well, no need to seek out a massage today; I’m good!” Then, since we of European decent don’t know much, you’re presented with the skills menu. Do you want the young funkadelic dude in black and white over in the corner with 7 of his buddies that are texting and surfing their buns off because the worker bees are busy, and that can’t understand a word you say for $5, or do you want the young funkadelic dude in the same get up etc. sitting there too that has 3 more months under his Polo patent leather belt (knock off presumably) for $8, ooooorrrrrrrr do you want the most revered young funkadelic, back room pot smoker-it can reek-that has the most experience in the “joint” for three times the usual price? I hadn’t yet had the pleasure of experiencing the $5 cut because Anne likes the #1 boy and has been lining us up for him and his #2 buddy, so I decided to see just how bad it could be. These are exciting times in the ol’ hood! When the nervous, new young buck came over, his apprentice and a couple of other peons of green watched with intent interest as he ventured into the gray straw of the American 6 footer. After all was said and done, it was no different than 90% of the other haircuts I’ve ever had, so I guess it sufficed. I went over to pay and remembered the VIP card! This ensures that we will forever get 50% off the regular price. Yes, I’m on the $2.50 track with Joey. I think we’re good for about a year, depending on how many highlights and colorings happen on the female side of the family. You ought to see the eyes light up when Annie and Hailey walk in! Cha Ching!!! Plus of course, by now, Anne has the whole store of young black hairs enamored and wanting to correct spelling and math tests with her while she waits for Mr. Big Guns.
'til next time, with stories from Bankok, Jakarta, and Bali
Anne and I have found our Saturday walks to be absolutely fabulous. We end up walking between 3-5 hours on average. The continued array of fascinating cultural activities, Chinglish (odd attempts at using English which often amuse), taxi events etc. makes our walks the absolute best part of our week. It all just seems so random, yet oh so entertaining. Last Saturday was particularly interesting as we ventured further out into some real “local” areas.
But before I begin, today, we took a cab to the airport. We saw our 3rd gas station. We’ve been here nearly 5 months. I don’t’ know where all the cars get their gas! There’s crush hour, big freeways, and we were on the freeway for an hour to get to the Pudong airport. Man, wherever they are, they must be packed all day long. Maybe they don’t need much gas. The cars are mostly small engine, and the speed limit on the freeway is 80 kph. I think that’s around 50 mph. It’s painfully slow, but then again, I’m sure it’s plenty fast when the roads are full.
In order to get on the freeway, our taxi had to get to a large crossroad. I have an example shot here of an intersection that has over 40 lanes coming and going!! So, the light we had to take a left at was very difficult to navigate as cars back up trying to get through. We could see our green arrow to go, but it was pretty clogged, even though there is a cop directing traffic about 100 yards ahead. No worries, about 20 cars, including us, just crossed 5 oncoming lanes and drove on the shoulder to get to the intersection where we could then take a left. No reaction by the cop. It’s all good. No wrecks, everyone’s happy, no honking…that’s reserved for cars/mopeds that “don’t” know you’re coming. No problem there! They all knew we were coming! That, was a new 1st…
So we get to the airport-pretty new, a bit bleak compared to back home-no art work or music and a bit dark. We grabbed a bite-I went with a safe noodle soup. Joey saw some spaghetti with meat sauce. Perfect-simple, the picture looked great. It came with a multitude of veggies in it, red sauce on top, and finished off with the meat-2 hotdogs laid across the top. FYI, all “sausage” in Shanghai is a hotdog. (Yes, even at a great Italian pizza joint we found; sliced up HD with salami—amazing!) Our gate was two floors down, which was where the tarmac was. We went through check-in, went outside, got on a 60 foot bus, and travelled across several runways to what looked like a 2-3 square mile cement parking lot where all aircraft parked. The busses deliver passengers to and from the terminal. We really couldn’t see the end of the “parking lot.” Not exactly wheelchair friendly! 25 stairs up to the cabin of a jet about the size of a 707. Bangkok here we come! Ü
Check out all the flower racks! You can purchase them at flower stores if you know someone that’s opening a new business. It’s good luck, congrats, and a beacon for the new business as a “Grand Opening” would be in the states. Only difference is, businesses here come and go weekly. They’re usually accompanied with firecrackers and fireworks to ward off evil spirits. Anne and I saw a new dumpling shop with a good sized line so we joined the crowd for some local fare. The dumplings are filled with balls of random street meat and spices. They get fried up and the juices from the meat fill the dumpling. Quite excellent! You can also get it in steamed dim sum, which are a bit larger in traditional dough (cao bao) for about 14 cents. Anyway, the dumpling place looked great, so we paid for 3 (san). I thought they were a bit spendy at 12 kwai ($1.70), but I hadn’t bought before, so I was just doing whatever it took. I got a bit alarmed as I saw them packaging them in little plastic bags. Everyone was getting them in multiples of 4. I realized I ordered 3 sets, 4 for 4 kwai. They shoveled out 12 of those puppies. We were miles from home and certainly weren’t that hungry. We just gave one of the bags of 6 to someone else in line. You would have thought we just gave them a new car. One woman was beside herself and just new this couldn’t be right. It pained her to watch us leaving her waving her money. We tried eating them hot and they just erupted in our faces. So there we were hanging our mugs over a patch of grass, drooling hot street meat juice while the locals just stared in wonder and amusement.
Right next door, another shop had been slicing and dicing fish for deep fried fish balls, right out in front on the sidewalk. Lord knows how long it all sits outside before bringing it in to mash up…The flaming iron bowls of food were just selected from the array of pre-prepared dishes. It’s common to just set it all out in bowls ready to be heated up.
Written by Anne Gribble
Nov. 2010 Shanghai, China
We didn’t pick China. China picked us. China picked us for a reason. As we experience life here in this very different third world country, each day I look for a glimpse as to why we are here. I know that we are here for a reason and as the days and weeks unfold, the reason why I am here has turned into many.
Our journey started with a family prayer. We prayed that God would send us where He wanted us, even if we didn’t understand. None of us did. We were all up for an adventure, one that we were afraid may change us into different people that may not be understood by those who know us best, but we had faith and trusted that God had a plan for each of us. But China?
It’s only fair that I speak for myself, as I know that my husband and children have their own personal journeys of faith. For me, I know this is where I am to be right now. I am here for 19 reasons. Those 19 reasons greet me with smiles and bravery each day. There are a few of those 19 that stand out and are more obvious than the others; however I know in my heart that I was meant to meet them, for them to change me, and for us to share our lives with each other for 180 days.
As I continue to discover why God lead me to China and as God continues to show me why each day; I can share with you why I love this crazy place so much and why I am glad I came.
I didn’t know that I was in a rut, but I was. I am SO NOT in a rut anymore. Nothing is familiar or comfortable. Nothing is routine, nothing is ordinary or boring. Every moment is interesting, exciting, hard, uncomfortable, frustrating, fun, and challenging. I am having to think all the time. How do I say that in Chinese? How can I act it out if he doesn’t understand me? How do I get there? Do I have enough money? How much is that in US dollars? Should I really do that? You’d think I’d be tired, but I’m not. It is very energizing. I feel so alive.
I like change. I’ve always liked it. I remember when I was 18, sitting at my desk in my bedroom and made that discovery. I gave myself permission to change the things that didn’t matter…my hair, clothes, favorites. At the same time I realized that it can be comfortable to not change things and I took pride in being faithful…same athletic club for 20 years, same hairdresser for 20 years, same house, same friends, same church, same husband. It was a conscious decision to give up all of the above, except the wonderful husband of course, and move to China. I didn’t change my friends, but I have changed which friends I see on a regular basis simply because of proximity.
I have had to make the effort to make new friends. This has not been an easy task and my actions have had to be quite purposeful in order to connect with others. Unfortunately time is another factor, I am not the most patient person and would really like to have new close friends NOW, but those deep roots take lots of shared experiences, trust, faith, laughter, and time. It’s a new experience (well, everything is new here) to have friends from all over the world and try to understand their accents. (They say I have the accent!) I guess I have to trust that will come with time too and I may learn some patience in the process.
I like it here because I see things every day that I’ve never seen before and most likely may never see again. Today it was a man riding a scooter with 50 big, Mylar colorful balloons. I tried to whip out my iphone camera to take a picture as he was coming right at me as I was crossing the street, but instead of getting a picture, I caused him to have to swerve around me because I was in his way. Yesterday, I saw my first mustache on a Chinese man who was sitting on the street corner on his bicycle selling music cds. He had a radio strapped to the back of his bike, playing one of my favorite songs – “I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again…”
Living among the wealthy and poor at the same time is such a juxtaposition of sensibilities. Black hummer parked on the sidewalk, next to a street vendor selling sweet potatoes from his bike. Starbucks next to a shanty community who wash their clothes in buckets on the sidewalk, McDonald’s next to a seedy massage parlor with ladies “lounging in the lobby” that’s open all night.
There are so many deformed people begging on the streets that it’s hard to look up. There is a man who has only a head, a small torso and one arm who rolls around laying on a skate board in front the grocery store. Crud, life sure is not fair. Doug usually carries around some change in his pocket to give way. One day he gave that man so many coins that he had a hard time holding up his cup. You should have seen the smile on his face. The smile on my face was even bigger watching my husband’s act of kindness, but the sadness of the injustice in my heart was heavier. I could turn, walk away into a large store and buy everything I needed and take a taxi home if I didn’t want to walk. As difficult as it is, I like living with this in my face.
When I read in emails or on Facebook about how life keeps rolling along back in the states and as I Skype with friends and family; I don’t want to leave my new home. I don’t miss being in the US as much as I thought I might. I don’t regret the missed parties and Bingo nights or holidays. I do wish my friends and family could come here and see what I see, experience what I experience. I know that is selfish and I don’t mean to belittle relationships at all; I just want to share something totally cool with the people I love the most. ****(Open invitation to EVERYONE and ANYONE who reads this rambling philosophical babble to come visit…)
There are characteristics of the US that I do appreciate more now that I ever have before. I didn’t realize that each and every day we breath clean air. I do miss clean air and look forward to breathing it again this summer. However, pollution does make for some beautiful sunrises and sunsets. For now, that will have to do. China is dirty and stinky and polluted, but that’s OK because its people are beautiful and it’s my home for now.