So Friday evening we returned to the Chabbad house and although we missed services, we were welcomed for another nice dinner. This time we were seated next to a family from France. Their origins are from Tunisia. Mom is a dentist and dad, a cardiologist and they have 3 mostly grown children...2 sons in college and a daughter still in high school. We spoke in a combination of languages. They had just arrived and were here to sightsee and see the World Expo. Across from our table was the Rabbi's brother and his family with their four adorable children. We chatted later with some of the same Israeli crew from last week and then met a few new people as well. One man whose last name is Melamed (I think) lives in New York and Shanghai. He has been in Shanghai off and on since he was in high school and is a walking history book. I would guess his age to be about 60 something. I believe too that his family connections go way back in Shanghai and he is related to either the Sassoons or Kadoorie families both huge pillars of the former Shanghai Jewish society. It was another rousing night of singing, toasting l'Chaim and eating very Jewish kosher fare. Rebecca had made plans to go out so we took the bus together until her stop and she gave me directions to get home and I was on my way. When I exited the bus at Peoples' Park, I was to catch a cab...good luck with that at 11 p.m. on a Friday night. I could have taken a motorcycle, but my Chinese is not good enough for bargaining and if I was going to risk life and limb on one of those, I was going to get it for a good price. So I just started walking towards what looked like there were crowds and neon lights. If China is anything, it is really safe. They are not allowed to own guns at all, and I don't normally see police with them come to think of it. I think that the only guns that I have seen have been for the guards watching over the Chinese version of the Brinks' panel vans transporting large sums of money. So even alone I felt comfortable, if not frustrated, walking at 11:30 looking for cab. I managed to walk into an area that was near clubs or hotels where people were coming and going, so I grabbed a taxi there and got to the apartment after much pronouncing in my way too imperfect Chinese. When the driver dropped me off, it took another while to get into the complex. I walked around the equivalent of 2 city blocks before I managed to find the unpadlocked way in. Exhausted I fell asleep around 1:30. I was meeting Arty Burack in the morning at 8:30, so I needed to be up and at em.
My friend Arty ( fFrom Bowerbank, Maine via New York) had come in from Qingdao where he was there visiting. He took the high speed train to Shanghai (about 10 hours) and had stayed in a youth hostel. I was impressed. He knows no Chinese, but with instructions from Rebecca managed to maneuver to our metro stop and I was there waiting for him when he arrived. Rebecca's got some tutoring to do, so we head out on our own. I take Arty to get breakfast down Feihong Road, so that he can get a feel for life here. We grab some fried dough sticks to munch on and continue to explore. Arty has spent the last 2 years in Afghanistan, so hot, crowded places where he did not know the language do not deter him a bit. I catch him up on what is going on in our lives and have him do the same. He is starving for real coffee, so we grab him a cup and head to Peoples' Park. We'll spend the morning there before meeting Rebecca to get fried dumplings for lunch. Arty is a former New Yorker, but even he marvels at the size of the city and the numbers of inhabitants. We browse through the museum in the park and learn about the infamous "Rape of Nanjing" a protracted and bloody campaign between the Japanese and Chinese during which thousands of Chinese were killed and beheaded and women raped. To this day Japanese and Chinese historians dispute the details and as a result, there is much animosity between the inhabitants of both sides. It is yet another reminder of how little we know about the history of this area of the world. Rebecca calls us and we take a break to head over to meet her. After lunch, Rebecca returns for another tutoring session and Arty and I head for the Bund so that he can get a look at that section of the city. We spot model train/plan etc. shop in the subway station and Arty, a model train buff can't help himself. He buys several models and has a great time looking around. This passion for building models transcends different languages and he communicates with the shopkeeper in a language that only people who understand models are privy to. The Bund on a Saturday afternoon is hopping. There are twice as many tourists there today than usual and after walking over there in the heat and taking the requisite photos leaning against the railing overlooking the river with the incredible ever changing skyline behind us, we find a place to sit, chat, and people watch. He is as taken with this city as I am. We watch as a dad puts down paper towels on the sidewalk so that his 2 year old son can "do his business"...definitely not what we're used to, but when in Shanghai. I am approached quite often even without my blonde daughter at my side, to be asked for photos to be taken with us. We oblige chuckling about how silly this seems. I point out different buildings that Rebecca has mentioned for their significance...the Pearl Tower and the Peace Hotel and realize that in spite of myself I am absorbing the vibe of this city. Rebecca finishes her lesson and meets us on the Bund. What did we do before cell phones to assist us in meeting people?! I guess that we gave better instructions. I make her come with us to yet another underground Bazaar that she has not been to so that she can be Arty's designated bargainer; he wants to buy some pearls for a friend. Rebecca's skills are masterful. By the time (about a half an hour) she is done, having walked away several times from the booth, she and the owner have agreed on a price a mere 1/4 of the original number. In the process, we are given a lesson on how to see if the pearls are real (you scrape them to see if they make pearl dust) how well matched and round they are ( you roll the strand on a piece of satin to see the symetry) and select the colors, size and length checking for luminescence ad surface scratches. In the end everyone is satisfied and as an added bonus, they restring my pearl necklace for free. The las time I had it done, it was done really badly and I paid 45 dollars for it and had to wait a week. These were done right in front of me with deft hands and amusing chatter between the shopkeeper and Rebecca. She gives us all bottles of water to drink and when we are leaving presses her cards into our hands encouraging us to return again. Even though we may have paid more than a native would, it was a really wonderful and impressive show of skill on Rivvie's part. Spent, we decide to go to the apartment to refresh a bit. We grab something to drink and a pastry and head back to show Arty our digs. He has 2 things left to do...buy a train ticket back and buy a backpack to take home the extra loot that he has purchased. I offer to loan him my duffel bag. i want to buy a new carry on anyway, and this will be a perfect excuse for me to get one. After a brief chilling out, we head to the Chinese Railway Station for our final activity of the day which proves to e quite the ordeal. The station is PACKED with loud, tired, frustrated, and unwashed bodies. The loudspeakers are blaring and every minute or so the signs flash new train times and departure and arrivals on the overhead screens. Here it is more tricky because none of it is in English. We get into a long line and wait out turn to get to the window only to find out that there are no tickets available to Qingdao for the next morning. Crap...now what?! Rebecca is undeterred. As we leave she looks outside an starts seeking out ticket scalpers much like those who prey on those desperate fans who don' advance plan to see their favorite performers, these guys do the same with train and bus tickets. Much conversation ensues and cell phone numbers are exchanged...the whole thing appears rather shady but Rebecca looks pretty self-assured. We decide to look for the bus station first after this protracted exchange during which we have to move away from the police to transact the deal, just to see if a bus is a possibility. It's like a well orchestrated dance...the police sort of turn a blind eye to what is going on and everyone comes out ahead if not a few kuai poorer. An hour later after getting directions from several sources we have literally run around in circles and not found the bus station. We finally decide that perhaps Arty should just take the train the next day and go back to see if a ticket can be obtained, get back in the long line and wait our turn. I feel sort of sorry for Rebecca and ll of her efforts and think maybe it's harder for us being foreigners, but surveying the crowd, I see faces of fatigue and frustration all around. It's a little reminiscent of an experience in Naples that I once had. FiNALLY it is our turn again and the clerk tells us that there is a ticket for standing room only on the noon train. The one before din't think that the lao wai would want to do that. Arty tells her to book it and we are relieved. It will be a long 10 hours for him on the train tomorrow, so we bid him goodbye and head back. I'm so tired that I'm almost ill. I fall asleep soon after getting back the apartment praying for safe travels for Arty....Wanhang hao. (Good Night.)
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