Shanghai (Thus Far)

Shanghai (Thus Far)

Upon arriving in Shanghai, I was absolutely exhausted. Mark and I stayed up way too late at the Hacienda near LAX watching way too many episodes of Breaking Bad. I did not sleep at all on the airplane, as I cannot sleep on airplanes. The airport in Vancouver, where I had my layover did not have a smoking section. They didn’t even have any currency exchange places. So…I couldn’t convert my dollars to Canadian dollars, so I could not eat. When I had layovers in Japan, I had to go through security, but not customs. My layover in Canada had me go through customs, but not security. Some meat-head who was not the remotest bit polite grilled me as though I were a prisoner of war for several minutes before I was allowed to sit around their shitty airport for three hours and wait for my next flight.
Fuck Canada. However, they are just as bad in the United States, actually worse.
The airport in Shanghai quite astounded me. I only had to wait about twenty minutes for my bags. In Manila that could take two hours, and one time at LAX it was over three hours. What would be customs in the US, where they look at your passport and ask you asinine questions about food and such usually took me twenty to thirty minutes in Manila. One time at LAX it took me over two hours of waiting in line to be tormented by some asshole who seemed to hate his life, his job, and every living thing on the planet. I waited in line less than ten minutes in Shanghai. Elizabeth did tell me that the Shanghai airport was extremely efficient, but due to past airport experiences, I had my doubts. Elizabeth was correct.
When I arrived at the hostel, as stated previously, I was dead on my feet. I had been awake for almost two days. The flight was horrific and I had developed a heat rash on my butt, my back, my waist all along where my jeans were digging into my flesh for over twenty hours of sitting down, and my right shoulder. My skin has become increasingly sensitive as I age. My left foot had swollen up so badly that it was excruciatingly painful to walk on it. I limped around like some casualty of war for about thirty-six hours before the swelling went down. I’m getting old. Maybe I have some medical condition that I was not aware of prior to this flight. My rashes, usually caused by excessive sweating and usually gone within twenty-four hours took four days to leave me this time, and it was painful to sit on my butt the entire time.
Too much personal information?
Gloria met me at the hostel and proved to be quite a valuable asset in my first few days in Shanghai. The hostel staff is all friendly and helpful. Most of them speak English to some degree. Gloria helped me get a much better deal on my room than I would have without her help. It seems almost everything here is negotiable and prices are apparently not set in stone. I can just imagine going to a 7-11 in the states and trying to talk a clerk, making minimum wage, into getting a Coke for ten cents cheaper. You can do that shit here, but I don’t, as it interferes with my personality. Gloria does not mind doing it at all.
Shanghai is a huge, bustling metropolis that has a population of about 20 million people. It is quite modern with huge skyscrapers all about the landscape. It used to be referred to as the Paris of the east, but is more commonly compared to Manhattan these days, probably because French people suck.
Shanghai reminds me of Manila in many ways. The traffic patterns are organized chaos. When I first visited Manila a few years ago, it appeared to my American eyes that there were no traffic laws at all. It seemed that everyone was just doing whatever the hell they wanted. After a few days, I came to realize that the laws are very similar to any other nation, but you just have to get used to the differences. Traffic lights are mostly obeyed; usually people wait until they are allowed to cross the street. But, if there is a traffic jam, people just cross the street. There is so much traffic that people usually drive very slowly during the day. There are massive amounts of pedestrians, people on Mopeds, and people on bicycles. All cars, pedestrians, and two-wheelers almost form an intricate pattern of movement, if you study the situation long enough. I just imagine several colonies of ants interacting with one another in some sort of symbiotic way.
When I was in Manila those several times, and when I lived in Germany for four years, if I needed help with translation, I would start asking random people if they spoke English. I never had to ask more than three people before I found someone. You can ask one hundred people over here if they speak English and never encounter a soul who does. The huge metropolitan, yet distinctly Asian feel of Shanghai is also similar to Manila. However, in comparison to Manila, Philippines and Mannheim, Germany, the Chinese do not share our alphabet. Every Chinese character is completely foreign to me. I can start to recognize German and Tagalog words, and they often throw English into their signs and advertisements. Not so here for the most part.
The people of Shanghai, with a few minor exceptions and one disastrously major exception are quite friendly. I wouldn’t say the average person on the street is so friendly, as everyone seems to be in a hurry to get where they are going. But, shopkeepers and folks I have met in bars (sorry, Robbin) are so damn friendly and nice. Even if they do not speak English, they are all smiles and warmth. The police I have seen and most security personnel are an exception to this rule. They just stare and glower at me as I pass. They really do actually focus on me to observe, not just Westerners!!! Me!!! I have a buddy I met in class who is from England, and he noticed them watching me more than anyone else. I attribute this to my longish hair. Despite what I read online before I arrived, I have not encountered another male with long hair yet in China. I think traditionally, men grew their hair long here, but I arrived 100 years too late to encounter that.
A few days after I arrived, Gloria took me down this alley, and I have never been so excited in my life. I witnessed what I expected to see in China: a stinky, fish-smelling alley with vendors of all sorts peddling their wares in makeshift wooden (often bamboo) stalls, with not a word of English spoken or another white person in sight. It enthralled and fascinated me. After Gloria left, I wandered down that alley several times. They would use disgusting tarps and old bits of cloth to not-really protect from the rain. Kids would pull down their pants and just piss in front of everyone. It was great! A lot of these people were slightly less than friendly, but the majority of them were still all smiles. Gloria warned me that if I go back there myself, without her, not to bring my wallet and only bring a little bit of cash. But, I have had no problems there. I had a major problem, but that was in the new-world part of Shanghai and it is a tale for another time.
I have written more than two pages now, and I fear that if I write any more, Alex and Mark will be reluctant to read it. Sorry, guys, just judging you by what I observed of your reading habits. Alex, to my knowledge you have still not read my book.
Gawain Gnosta 