Arrival

So I made it! It was a long day! After staying up until 1 am the night before my trip...last minute details like baking cookies to take to Rebecca, we woke up at 3:30 to get to my 6 am flight. A quick shower and out the door. Thank you Joanne for my new haircut. It's pretty easy to get ready now. John, God love him, drove me to Bangor and I must admit we both got a little misty eyed when I went through security, but there was no turning back. The flights were fine except for one glitch. On the first flight, the flight was full and the flight attendant was trying to get everyone on and settled so that we could leave. I was in the front row and had to put my bag in the overhead compartment, but the flight attendant took it and stowed it for me. Unbeknownst to me, she had to remove several things to get it to fit. So when I left the plane at Laguardia I got my bad down and saw that my containers of cookies ad been taken out, but, as I am a bit vertically challenged, didn't not see that she had also taken out Rebecca's old laptop that she had given me. I didn't realize it until I was about an hour before getting ready to get on the Detroit to Shanghai leg of my journey. Needless to say a flurry of calls and running from counter to counter ensued as well as getting John involved, but so far without much help from Delta or Pinnacle airlines. As inauspicious a beginning as that was, the rest of the traveling was pretty uneventful and long. International travel is a bit nicer than domestic as they serve you drinks for free ( John would be so proud; I got a Corona.) and there are tons of games/movies/stuff to entertain you. Still, it's hard to sleep and while I dozed off and on, it was not entirely restful. If you count the drive to the airport from Monson, the whole trip took 26 hours. I arrived an hour early Shanghai's Pudong Airport, a huge modern sprawling complex...very clean, neat, and efficient. My luggage made it and I went to see about getting money at an atm. While in line I was waiting behind another waiguoren (pronounced why gwa ren) meaning foreigner, obviously an American businessman, and I asked if he would be so kind as to let me use his phone to call my daughter. (Like Blanche Dubois, this Southern Belle needed to rely on the kindness of strangers.) He was very kind and let me call Rebecca to let her know that I had gotten in an hour early. She was already en route and told me to wait for her after I when through immigration. Immigration was easy except for the part where I had to fill in the address of where I would be staying...oops, I didn't know Rebecca's address, but I fortunately had had the presence of mind to say that she had just moved and so all I had was her telephone number. That seemed to be good enough and I sailed through to wait for Rivvie's arrival. The reception area was teeming with people coming to meet flights and those arriving. The sheer number of people going through was amazing, and this Monsonite was fascinated by the variety in appearances. Rivvie arrived shortly after and we headed out to the subway with all of my gear. My clever and organized daughter had already gotten me a transportation pass and met me with a goody bag with essentials...umbrella, map, Shanghai guide book, wet wipes and, most importantly, toilet paper to carry in my purse for public bathrooms. the subway ride was unevernful...2 changes...about an hour ride on the cleanest and most efficient subway I've ever been on and we arrive at Linping station with Rebecca's admonition to familiarize myself with names, landmarks, signs etc. Her apartment is on the 30th floor of a cluster of high rise buildings called "Rainbow City". It's on the corner of Linping Road and Ruihong Road (pronounced Rayhong). We're in building number 6, apartment 3001. I say this because I'm trying to learn these things to be able to find my way back when I go out. It's a fabulous apartment...3 bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths living/dining combination and kitchen as well as a washing machine and balcony and 2 French roommates, Pierre and Kevin. We unpack and I give Rebecca the suitcase full of requested items items that I brought her...peanut butter, maple syrup, nutella, spices, olive oil and balsamic vinegar as well as other things that are expensive here. We call John to leave a message about my arrival safe and sound and head out to grab dinner. It was about 8:30 or so and the streets near here were teaming with activity. Street vendors abound as well as small shops with everything from fresh produce to car repairs crowded together getting use out of every square inch of space. Prepared food vendors making fried dough or skewered meats and vegetables and stir fry are marketing their wares by the pungent smells that waft our way and tease our appreciative nostrils. There is a cacophony of sounds from the little motorized rickshaws to scooter to bicycles and mopeds, cars and busses. The use of horns is prevalent and just let's say that just because you have a green light at a crosswalk...yeah watch out. It is HUMID and hot. The buildings are crammed together and there is a pace to this area that I just love. We stroll past shops with plumbing fixtures, dry cleaners, ironing shops and even pass the ubiquitous MacDonald's, a KFC and a Dairy Queen as well as a Century 21 office. People are out funning errands, walking their dogs, lots of little dogs, or just out getting fresh, I use the term loosely, air. Rebecca takes me to a little hole in the wall where they make La Mein ( pronounced la mee en) noodle soup. The place is run by immigrants from Xin Jiang (Sheeng Jan), one of the most western provinces in China. They are Chinese Muslims and their dress reflects that with their special head coverings. They are very friendly and fascinated with us as we are of them. The noodles are made in from of us and I take photos of the process. The dough is kneaded in from of us. It's an elastic wheat noodle dough and the long spaghetti strands are made by pulling and twisting the dough over and over until it becomes thinner and thinner. Then they are paced in a vat of broth and cooked for several minutes with whatever you want in it. We have beef and cilantro. Soon we are rewarded with steaming bowls of delicious soup and chopsticks. While we eat, Rebecca chatters away in Chinese, pausing only to translate for me, and they take some photos and videos of us eating. We are after all a novelty. We eat until we're so full and Rebecca pays 10 kuai, a/k/a yuan about 75 cents apiece for out meals and we stroll back to the apartment picking up fresh lychees and watermelon along the route. It's pretty cool to see Rebecca chatting with these street vendors. They are always surprised to realize that she can speak their language. She downplays this, but I too am impressed. They get a kick out of speaking with this blonde "lao wai" or "waiguoren" the Chinese version of Maine's "from away". On the way back I try to absorb every detail from the laundry lines strung in front of shops and building displaying your skivvies for all to see to the bricked sidewalks and interesting people, but my brain is exploding with stimulus. We close the evening with a visit from Rebecca's friends from Ireland who are leaving shortly to go back home after a year's study in Shanghai, Niamh (neeve) and Ciara (keera). Of course I can't help regaling them with stories of my daughter while she shoots me dirty looks, but we plan to meet them on Wednesday as it will be "Ladies Night " at a favorite watering hole of theirs. When we finally go to bed, its past one and I've been up forever, but what a great start to my adventure...more to follow.