3 years ago today I boarded a plane at LAX. Destination: PVG (Pudong, Shanghai, China). I had two check-in 50lbs. bags, one carry-on bag and my backpack with my laptop in it. I had an open roundtrip ticket, meaning I was free to choose my return date as long as it was within a 12 month period. My cash consisted of an American ATM card that was supposed to work in certain Chinese ATMs with no transaction fees. I did not have an apartment set up. My family dropped me off at Point A and I was told that “somebody” would pick me up at Point B.
The first thing that hits most of us arriving in Shanghai in late summer is the humidity as it latches onto your body. My native Southern Californian skin immediately felt this new change as I got in line at customs under the heading “foreigner.” I looked like the locals, yet I was a foreigner. I would learn soon enough just how this would be to my advantage and disadvantage, and the beginning of many funny and frustrating stories.
My heart skipped a beat when I did not see anyone holding up a sign with my name on it in the arrivals lounge. “Maybe I missed it” and as I turned my luggage cart around I noticed out the corner of my eyes a Chinese girl running panicked towards the lounge with a piece of paper. Upon closer inspection I read my name, introduced myself, am escorted to the van and driven into the city that would become my home for the next 2.25 years.
Shanghai.
You’ve been mean and unkind, scary and unpleasant. But you were also exciting and delightful, warm and full of surprises. You stole my wallet with my passport in it, but a compassionate migrant worker found them in the bushes and and returned them to me via the contact information I had left on an old receipt. Your store owners always tried to charge me extra because they knew I wasn’t from “around here,” but your taxi drivers always got me from here-to-there without taking the “scenic route.” The people would spit, blow their nose with their hands, pick their ears with long pinky nails, children would #1 and #2 on the streets, but they would also smile and be genuinely curious about me and my life and make me feel welcome.
You were the starting point of many trips, domestic and international. It was always so nice to leave you and your smoggy air and grey skies behind, but there was always the sense of familiarity and anticipation whenever I was returning. Off the planes or trains to navigate the subway system back downtown or jump into a cab and say “Xujiahui, xie xie.”
You are a city of contrasts. The skyline is decorated with some of the newest, tallest and most modern buildings in the world. Neon signs flash while billboards and jumbotrons make their claims. Yet around each corner is an alley leading into a quiet neighborhood where families still hang laundry out to dry. Starbucks, McDonald’s and of course KFC reign supreme in every shopping plaza, but it is the friendly baozi lady or mala tang man who could serve up a quick tasty Chinese meal. Superbrand Mall is more likely to have clothes in my size, but Qipu Lu is an exhausting and lively game of shopping warfare. Cheese is expensive, but nothing beats the 3 RMB convenience store ice creams.
So 3 years later, I look back fondly at the times when every experience was new and fresh. Grabbing a taxi, learning city’s urban geography, reading menus, grocery shopping, paying bills, figuring out the local dialect, trying the Chinese chip “flavors,” the list goes on and on. The sense of accomplishment that came with each step kept me going. My Shanghai experience had been a little weird, but nothing short of exhilarating. Some of the best times were spent exploring China and nearby countries, and some of the best times were spent simply lounging and hanging out with dear friends. It was just as fun to wander its streets as it was to escape to a foreigner-friendly spot. I left Point B and returned to Point A a few months ago, and will probably remain at Point A for the foreseeable future. I brought back the trinkets and the kitschy souvenirs, but in my mind and heart are the real treasures, the stories and the memories.
I’ll be back. I don’t know when, but I’ll be back.
