Faint of heart

I’m sitting in Pudong International Airport. I have been in China now for nine days and am finally headed back to the States. My time in China has proven to be quite interesting—a true, once in a lifetime experience.

But first let me say this. As amazing an experience as this has been, I still would have preferred being home to see J’s return. Oh yes…I forgot to tell you all: J is home safe and sound. He returned from his deployment *literally* six hours before I flew to China, and therefore we did in fact miss seeing each other. Sigh. But at least I left for my trip knowing that he was on US soil, free from imminent danger (other than excursions on the town with his brother, which always hold a certain degree of risk.)

So yes, the missing each other business sucked. And of course, while there’s J’s Irony Theory to consider, I’ve gotta to ya—this timing wasn’t just ironic. It was straight mocking. As I sat at the airport, waiting to board the plane, the TVs above me were blaring CNN’s broadcast of the welcome home ceremony of J’s unit. No lie, I watched it on TV, all the while squinting at the tv and, quite meanly I might add, muttering the words “are you kidding me?” to myself…and most everyone around me. There might have been tears.

And so it was hard not being home to see J get settled back in. I was not-so-secretly jealous of everyone who got to see him first (which seems irrational and silly, but still…) He’s already had his first drink back and his first night on the town which I missed (and let’s be honest, those two events coincided. Please reference excursion with his brother mentioned above.) He’s gone back to work now, and I don’t really know what’s going on there. He has new roommates and a new routine. It’s been really hard for me, knowing he was home and not being able to share it, or even talk to him regularly. We seriously talked more frequently and regularly when he was in a war zone in Afghanistan than we did in the last 9 days. Thanks, Mao. (In a related story, once taken away from me a la Communist China, I realize I am in fact addicted to Facebook.)

So leaving the country on the day your fiancé comes back from war and making it through the additional salt-in-wound time apart…not for the faint of heart.

All of that having been said, China was amazing-- Such a strange and crazy and active and wonderful place. The whole time though, the phrase that kept repeating in my head was “This place is not for the faint of heart.” (I’m sensing a theme…)

There’s a very real and interesting dichotomy in Shanghai which was where I spent all 9 of my days in China. Shanghai is two cities simultaneously.

I stayed in what is known as the Financial District. It is shiny. It is beautiful. It is across the street from Shanghai’s version of Central Park. I stayed in a five-star hotel that was a beautiful mix of Western and Eastern. And so luxurious. I was safe and warm and VERY well taken care of. I was next to the main drag of the city, the pedestrian street that runs from city center all the way to the riverfront, about a two mile walk. And that, my friends, was a combination of Vegas and Times Square, plus about two million people (that’s not even hyperbole.) It is busy and crowded. It is bright and loud. There is pushing. Everyone is shopping or posing for pictures. Street peddlers and food vendors are coming at you from every direction. It is very overwhelming to all of your senses, but in an exotic and beautiful way. But it’s not for the faint of heart either. You have to keep your wits about you, stand up to the street peddlers, and confidently state what it is you need, which is most typically for them to buzz off.

The good news about the tourist district/ financial district is that it is very safe, and enough of the signs have some English on them and enough of the people have basic, conversational English that you can get by without knowing much Chinese. I’ve got hello, goodbye, thank you, and (JUST as importantly) no thank you down pat now. Other than that, you just have to wing it and mime things out.

But such fun local things I did!

I went to the shopping district and haggled for gifts for my friends.

I learned how to eat mystery food with chopsticks (Note, silly Westerners…they do not provide forks. You learn to use a chopstick or you go hungry. It’s amazing how good you get when you’re starving.)

I fell in love with some food and much of the culture.

I got a two hour (yes, two hour) massage that cost me a whopping $30 USD. And it was awesome. (I’m anticipating the massage parlor jokes you’re thinking about right now and not finding any of them funny.)

I have never met a group of people more given to kind hospitality and manners.

(Unless of course there is transportation involved. And then all bets are off. I legitimately feared for my life ONLY when I was trying to cross a street or was in a cab. When I first got there, I was very curious as to why no one was using the phrase “excuse me” or “I’m sorry.” And I’m here to tell you, here’s why: if you stopped to say excuse me in a city of millions of people, all of whom are trying to cross the exact same street as you at the same time in a 11 second window of time during which cars don’t actually pay attention to stoplights…or, you know, lines on the road, you’d get plowed over. I witnessed, not kidding four separate car/ pedestrian accidents. Yup. Truth. You just have to look directly across to the other side of the street and walk in straight line at a steady pace- no fear! And in the cab…well, just close your eyes and pray.)

The skyline of Shanghai is decorated by shiny new, amazingly beautiful and truly unique buildings. I believe that Shanghai is the last bastion of unabashed architectural renegade. If I designed buildings, I would want to build in Shanghai. Each building is more strange and beautiful than the next—resembling the skyline in an episode of the Jetson’s. Chic, sophisticated. Brilliant…and strange. Scattered among these shiny buildings and tourist areas are remnants of old Shanghai—The French Concession and the English-held shoreline—the Bund, with hotels like the Plaza and the Waldorf that still have speak-easy type jazz clubs and 1940’s classic charm.

It’s easy to get lost in the beauty of the new and forget that these beautiful skylines and modern buildings are but a small and very recent part of Shanghai’s history.

One day I had nothing to do – no meetings to make, no duties to attend to—just me, and the city. It was incredible to wander. Once you get more than about two blocks off of any of these major tourist areas you remember where you are. You are in a developing country, dirty and gritty and smelling of urine, only very recently thrust into the limelight of the world as money and people and commerce and business-dealings have been thrust upon them. China has basically experienced an economic growth spurt resembling that of an active 13 year-old-boy. And just like that kid who has grown 6 inches in 3 months and can’t find shoes that fit him anymore, China is equally clumsy, tripping over its own feet, trying so hard to stay in balance between the old traditional customs and the new economic happenings.

I wandered those backstreets with my camera a little bit each day. I went to the outdoor markets where they brought in fresh eels and octopi and butchered chickens in the street. I went with a long-time China native as he did his market shopping for fresh grains and greens daily. I sat on a tiny stool in a tiny tea shop as I participated in an authentic tea ceremony. And I have to say, that that part of China is beautiful too. But it is not for the faint of heart either.

The last 10 days, with all its different adventures, has been about bravery. About taking chances, leaps of faith, embracing the difficult, and sometimes disappointing, and spinning it into something life-altering. I missed j’s homecoming (and honestly, it’s gonna take me awhile to mentally recover from that—I’m not quite there yet.) But I also went to China. And learned and grew and explored and tried all sorts of crazy different things. And it was scary, but I think that I realize that life is not for the faint at heart. It’s about being brave and embracing the unknown.

And now, for the greatest adventure of all: Home to J.