it's been a while...

i have so much to tell, but i don't think i will ever be able to catch this blog up. i know i promised to tell you about shanghai b/c, what a summer!~but i'm not so sure now. yesterday i was reading through the journals i kept in Word while i was there & it reminded me of just how tumultuous the summer was~i had forgotten so much & had begun idealizing as the case often is, glazing over the unpleasant bits. i will post some photos (but they miss out on a lot) & ... i think i will post some excerpts still.

before you read these, i feel like i should have a disclaimer or something: first of all, sorry it's so long. secondly~i'm not sure if i still feel the same things i wrote about in these entries, but they are representative of my real-time experience as the summer progressed. i am very dramatic at times, so just roll your eyes at me and keep going. this summer was important to me~invaluable, i'm sure~and though it didn't turn out as i had hoped, i'd like to think that i grew a lot from the experience. i am grateful that i was able to have this opportunity.

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06.14.07
3:14 AM

I am scared shitless of living here in Shanghai for two months on my own, or as “on my own” as I’ve ever done....

Reading Chinese overwhelms and frustrates me. Whether it’s the newspaper or the back of the laundry detergent box, I just see all these words that I don’t know and my eyes glaze over. It takes so long to read just a tiny bit of writing. Same with watching the news—I can’t understand, and I just zone out. It’s easy to block out. I can read and have Chinese TV on in the background. Not a good thing....
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06.17.07
12:11 AM

For the first time, I tried chou dou fu—stinky tofu. They were cubes, deep fried with some sauce drizzled on top. They smell awful—sour, moldy, sort of like an old dirty kitchen rag. But they’re supposed to taste very good. I still thought it tasted slightly like the camel or elephant house at the zoo, but only slightly.

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06.17.07
8:08 AM

Sometimes I miss my parents so much it’s hard to breathe. I don’t anticipate getting over this homesickness. I don’t see how I can stop missing them, how I can stop always thinking of them. God, I want to go home. Or they could come here and just take me out. I don’t want to work here. Prospects are so bleak. I feel stranded here. I miss my parents so badly. It’s so hard. I’m so scared. There’s so much uncertainty....

I miss home so much. The sight of masses of Chinese people doesn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy and homey as I’d thought it would.
***
06.24.07
1:23 PM

It’s a Sunday afternoon now. I have a load of darks in the washer, my lights are hanging on the banister, and I’m listening to Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now.”

I spent the morning exploring the area around Carrefour. I took the 987 (I had to wait twenty-some minutes for it!) to one stop beyond Carrefour. There’s a row of little stores there, two of them that sell DVDs. The first one I went into was more expensive, about Y15 each. The second was Y10 each. They had a great selection of American movies, even Shrek 3 & Pirates 3, which are both still playing in theaters. I got Failure to Launch and The Notebook for Y9 each. While I was in the store, there was a pair of Americans, probably about my age, one guy one girl. I think they live around here—the Green Villas community is right next to it, and I think a lot of expats probably live there. They both spoke excellent Chinese when bargaining with the storeowner, and then spoke totally American English on their cells with their friends. It’s interesting, the life they lead....

I went to explore the French Concession yesterday. From the South Huangpi Road metro station, it’s just a short walk to Xintiandi, a hip neighborhood of bars, cafes, shops, and restaurants. I went inside Flow Market, a shop/gallery. The merchandise is all this one artist’s artwork. I don’t remember if he’s Chinese or Danish. The inside of the store is minimalist in style—all white and clean lines and such. They basically sell empty clear and white containers—bottles, cans, boxes, etc. that have bold black labels—social criticism, really. Examples: a black tote bag that said “We use more than 12 million plastic bags a year,” a can that said “Fair trade,” a spray bottle that said “Good vibes,” a carton that said “Clean air,” a soda can that said “Clean energy,” etc....

I had dinner at Yang’s Kitchen from a recommendation in Lonely Planet. They said the eggplant with pork and bing was “out of this world,” so I ordered it. I thought it mediocre. I brought the leftovers home.

I got a DVD of High School Musical for Y7 from a man selling music DVDs out of suitcases by the side of the road.
***
06.24.07
5:50 PM

I am reading Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, and it is making me yearn for America. The main character Sal is a man from New Jersey, a man with a past in the East but a desperate longing for a future in the West. I think I am the same way. I think that I have my own myth of the West, like Sal. I am a product of the East, but I have spent much of my life searching to create my own story of the West. Of course, this is all relative—my East is not New York but Beijing, and my West is not the Great Plains or California but the whole of the United States.... Now more than ever, I view myself as an American, or at least a Chinese-American. Probably more the latter, such that I am stuck in a sort of limbo.... If I were to live and work in China as an expatriate, I would not feel completely at home among the local Chinese, but at the same time, the American expatriate community would not be able to immediately identify me as one of their own either.

I realize that as I am counting down the days until I leave Shanghai (47 days) and wishing for them to pass by more quickly, I am also wishing away my summer. I fear that the days of separation from my parents are rapidly dawning upon me. I will spend ten days or so with them in Beijing, then a week back home, and then I will have to return to school. I will see them again for a few days for Thanksgiving, and then a few days for Christmas before I have to cut Winter Break short to go to London. From then, I will probably not see them until June or so. Our days are numbered, and I am heartbroken.
***
06.25.07
8:07 PM

My first real cooking success here! I stir-fried some bok-choy-like leafy vegetable (xiao bai cai) with some oil, garlic, scallions, and salt, and some scrambled eggs w/tomatoes & ham. It was all delicious!

This afternoon at work, I got the urge to do pilates. I like Denise Austin’s video b/c it’s set in some tropical resort, and I like to pretend I am there, rather than in this hellhole that is my current life.

Yes, a hellhole. A steaming, humid, hot, smoggy hellhole. That’s what I was thinking today during my lunch break as I walked around the office park.... I don’t like it here. I want to run away. Run away, run away.

I am going to give in soon and buy some ice cream. I was tempted to at Carrefour the other day. They have ice cream in pint-size or smaller packages, so I wouldn’t have to buy a lot. I love ice cream. Unfortunately, this phase of homesickness is angrier and more depressing and, instead of suppressing my appetite, it has stimulated my cravings for junk food.
***
06.28.07
7:39 PM

When I got home this evening, I found that the elevator was under maintenance, so I had to climb all the way up to the seventh floor, up the un-air-conditioned stairwell. As I watched The Notebook for the second time since buying it here, I saw fireworks in the distance outside my window. They weren’t spectacular.
***
07.02.07
08:31 PM

Never have I done something so mind-numbingly dull for such a prolonged period of time. Today all I did was read users’ manuals for computer data-tracking systems. By the end of the day, I could not concentrate for the life of me and desperately wanted to run away or crawl under the desk and take a nap. Do these people honestly believe that a person can read those things all day long? I wanted to run away so badly.
***
07.05.07
8:35 PM

Today on my walk home, the air was so humid it was suffocating. I spent the morning doing some paperwork but then had nothing to do the rest of the day. I think this place is going to suck all the spirit out of me.... I need to be in California, where there are winding roads that go on and on along the ocean waves. I need to be able to escape and just drive and go.

I finished reading On the Road this morning. The writing is crazy beautiful… There’s this urgency of spirit, like Sal and Dean—their bodies can’t contain all their maddening dreams and desires and needs. Dean, he can’t stay in one place—he has to go—he has to keep driving, keep moving on ahead. There’s this crazy maddening energy. The book is cool—it’s got style....

In the short movie Good Morning, Baby, the main character’s friend says, New York is my lover, and right now we’re in a fight. I keep thinking of that line with regard to my feelings toward China right now. I want to like it here—I mean, hell, I’m supposed to be an East Asian Studies minor or something. I’m slowly adjusting. I think that if I didn’t hate my job so much, it wouldn’t be that bad.

A big part of the problem is that I’m not experiencing China in a vacuum. All of my experiences here, I can’t help but compare to my American life. And it’s the summer, and I feel like I’m missing my American summer. For me, summer is supposed to be the beach, berry picking on farms, cooking experiments at home with Martha, outings with my home friends, the mall, etc. etc. Summer is supposed to be like the bike ride through the countryside in Wedding Crashers—young, carefree, breeze-in-your-hair summer. I’m watching the movie right now....
***
07.08.07
8:08 PM

I think I’m actually content here I think. Like, hmm, hey, I don’t mind this. Though I may not like work, weekends are lots of fun.
***
07.07.07

I spent this luckily-numbered day @ the Live Earth concert, but my entry for that day isn't that interesting.
***
07.10.07
8:52 AM

I think I could almost live comfortably here if I had to, like long-term, with a real job that I liked.... If I worked here on an American salary and had a beautiful apartment or house and my own car, I could live very well here. Shopping (clothing, shoes) here isn’t cheap though—the same stores and brands carry higher price tags here I think. But food, groceries are inexpensive. And they have nice gyms here, and people like to do yoga, and there are nice gourmet restaurants, western and eastern in cuisine. If I were to live in a relative vacuum, life could be pretty good here. My main concern would be the language problem—or at least others’ expectations of my language capabilities. From my outward appearance, I wouldn’t be expected to have such an imperfect grasp of the language and history here. If I were to live in a community of foreigners, would I fit in? Even then, I would look out of place, wouldn’t I?

I’m afraid that there isn’t enough time left for me to explore all the places I want in Shanghai. Yesterday afternoon, I went through my Lonely Planet book and bookmarked (w/these awesomely brightly colored post-it tabs I found in my desk) all the places I want to see. There are a lot of tabs....

It’s raining today.... Everyone here carries a pastel colored umbrella, even the men. The umbrellas are pink and light blue and lavender, often with flowers or plaid or lacy designs or funny English words. This morning, on my walk to work, I saw at least three men carrying pink umbrellas, in shades varying from bright magenta to light blush.
***
07.11.07
4:03 PM

The women here are all pregnant, did I tell you that before? This year is the year of the pig, and everyone wants their babies to be pig babies—fat and full and happy. They pregnant women here wear these aprons/smocks/jumpers that are supposed to block the radiation from computers. It makes the ones who are still early in their pregnancies and without the rounded tummies look like cleaning ladies.

Today so far, I have done no work. I finished reading Liar’s Poker, listened to a podcast of Rick Steves’s guide to Paris, watched two of the short Glamour films I have on my iPod, and did a few Sudoku puzzles....

I mean, I’m having fun (relatively—relative to what it was like a week or two ago) in everything besides work. I enjoy going to Carrefour and exploring places around the city on weekends. But that’s not the main reason my school sent me here, is it? I mean a huge part of it is supposed to be deeper understanding of Asian culture, but I’m getting that mostly out of my weekend excursions and outside-of-work relationships, not the job itself. If anything, the job has turned me against this culture—I think that is probably misplaced. I think my frustrations should be directed against this company or this office rather than this country. Last night, watching Nanjing, I felt a surge of love for this country—but here, back in this soulless, fluorescently-lit hell, I forget that....
***
07.12.07
1:17 PM
After Rachel and Liu Li went inside Bldg 4, and as I continued to walk to Bldg 8, I looked at the apartment buildings overlooking the office park (presumably inhabited by many foreigners) and thought—am I Vanity Fair’s “ugly American” disguised in a Chinese façade? I think I’d rather be a full-fledged ugly American—at least then I’d have an excuse for my ways. If I look Chinese but live the American lifestyle here in China, would the Chinese look at me as if I were an idiot? ...

Rachel told me about a term they have here—xiang jiao ren: literally translated, it means banana person. It describes Asian kids who have grown up in foreign countries, but it doesn’t carry any of the derogatory meaning that calling someone a banana or Twinkie in the US has.
***
07.12.07
3:06 PM

I’m reading TIME’s China blog. Really, it’s a wonder to me that it isn’t blocked. I’m glad though, b/c the entries are fascinating. They’re written by a handful of expats and others of mixed backgrounds, an ABC, an HK halfie. I think China is full of identity-stricken people....

China’s supersonic rate of change also inevitably induces an identity crisis as a side effect. It seems that this place is intent on eliminating all that is old and replacing it with new, neon, shiny, flashy, gleaming. It seems to have skipped a step—I wish it were better at preserving its past and its charm. Westerners do not leave home and come here to see more of the West, I think.

The diversity in China is very different from that of the US, though I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe a lot of the diversity is hidden. There’s unity in our black hair, yellow skin, and dark eyes, so it’s hard to decode what’s different underneath. Expectations are a big part of it. Outward similarity leads one to expect more of the same on the inside.

This trip to China has made me ponder the life of an expat more than I ever have before—I’ve never actually pondered it. I think the only other time when I thought briefly of the term expat was in the context of the old film, An American in Paris. I couldn’t even finish watching that movie b/c I was too annoyed by the leading actress’s voice.
***
07.13.07
7:38 PM

I forgot to tell you—I ran away from work today!

At one, when I got back from work, I asked Cherry if she had any work for me to do, but she responded in the negative. I told her to let me know if anything came up that I could do.

I read Buffet, did some online shopping, browsed Lonely Planet online, and downloaded more free podcasts until 3:30 or 4. At four, I went looking for Cherry—I decided that I’d ask if she thought she’d have anything for me to do for the rest of the afternoon, and if not, I’d just let her know that I was leaving early. I waited for her for fifteen minutes or so, but she wasn’t at her desk the whole time, so I just took off! I felt slightly rebellious… I didn’t know if I wanted anyone to notice or not…

Anyhow, after dropping off my things and changing at home, I took the bus to the DVD store and got the first two seasons of “The Office” for Y40. I walked over to the Decathlon complex for dinner at Indian Kitchen.
***
07.16.07
1:54 PM

There is a girl in the office here who I hear more often than I see. She has a pair of mules that have mother-of-pearl bangles sewn on top, and each time she nears my cubicle, it is as if Santa is paying a visit on his jingle-bell-bedecked sleigh, except minus the Christmas cheer and all that.

My weekend was wonderful—I fell in love with Moganshan Road and its massive complex of old factories and warehouses with whitewashed interiors, exposed brick, high ceilings, dusty old yellowing windows, exposed pipes, and modern Chinese art.
***
07.17.07
9:02 AM

I am in a homesick state of mind again. Last night I watched half a dozen episodes of “The Office.”... So much of what I see on the show reminds me of the please-just-kill-me-now misery I experience here at the office. Some quotes from the show:

Pam: “The thing about Jim is... when he's excited about something- like the Office Olympics- he gets really into it and he does a really great job. But the problem with Jim is that he works here so... that hardly ever happens.”

Ryan, the temp: “If I had to, I could clean out my desk in five seconds and nobody would ever know I had ever been here. And I'd forget too.”

The show is hilarious—just reading the quotes on IMDB makes me laugh. But sometimes it’s really sad too—like that second quote, from Ryan? I feel exactly the same way.

Also, this morning, I really didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t even feel like showering, so I didn’t. And I didn’t want to get dressed. I wanted to wear pajamas, or workout clothes; so instead, I wore a polo and capris. I thought of the quote from Wedding Crashers, from Owen Wilson: “Sometimes I feel so much like giving up."
***
07.17.07
3:54 PM

Some funny English names that the people in the office have selected for themselves: Apple (I wonder if that was before or after Gwyneth had her baby), Handsome, Green, and Buffer. I will add to this list as necessary.
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07.24.07
9:32 AM

It’s funny that in a city like Shanghai, I often see the same people on the street. There is a foreign woman I see riding a moped in the morning. She looks eastern European or something—she usually wears a tank top and sunglasses and has her hair tightly pulled back. Yesterday, walking to and from work, I passed the same girl on the sidewalk, recognized by her black Bermudas and wide belt. There is a group of three men (they look American) who I sometimes see biking. The guy in front wears sunglasses and a beard. They all wear red outfits and bike helmets—perhaps cycling enthusiasts or a special courier service? Once, I think it was two weekends ago, I saw the same two girls on the 987 on Saturday night as on Sunday morning. I recognized them by their cloth, patterned handbags.

The sky here is bluer than I expected. Beijing’s pollution is worse.

Don’t think that I like this place though. I don’t think I could live in China because of the dirt. Places are dirty. Clean places are the exception, rather than the rule. Dust covers everything, and one should go into a bathroom assuming the worst. The Shanghai Museum has excellent bathrooms.

People here live in cities—that is where the quality of living is best. Unfortunately, these places also have poor air quality and the greenery is awkward at best. The Song Qing Ling Mausoleum and Former Residence showcased the best greenery I’ve seen here so far. I need nature and mountains and open space and beach. I hate to dust and mop the floors. I wish I could run around barefoot.
***
07.27.07
3:17 PM

I wandered down another street lined with people selling produce and meat (butchered and still alive). I saw cages with a mélange of birds: chickens, pigeons, and doves, with ducks sitting in a Styrofoam box. Net bags were filled with live frogs, bins and baskets were filled with slithering eels and snakes, and tubs were filled with crabs and crawfish. Overlooking the right side of the street were homes where laundry and comforters hung from balconies, while the left side bared the ruins of other buildings that had already been torn down. Some vendors had set up their goods right in front of these ruins. These were the front lines of the bulldozing of old Shanghai. Soon, I imagined, the knocking ball would skip across the street. The massive, sprawling scale model of Shanghai [at the Shanghai Municipal Museum] was conspicuously lacking in any old buildings, replaced instead by cloned apartment high-rises.
***
07.30.07
8:14 PM

I’m ready to leave Shanghai. It’s getting old. Now I know that I’ve wanted to leave since the moment I got here, but this is a different kind of desire. I think I’m done here. I think before, when I wanted to leave, it was like running away or going back. Now, it’s like I’ve done what I’ve needed to do here and I’m ready to move on—I’m moving forward. I don’t know—it’s hard to explain.

I mean, there are still a handful of places I want to explore: I want to do some shopping on Taikang Road in the French Concession, visit the Shanghai Art Museum and have lunch on the roof at Kathleen’s 5, do a walking tour of the Bund, and return to Old Street to buy some beautiful purses or West Fuxing Road to buy the Tibetan wood and silver earrings that I can’t stop thinking about. Still, I’m ready to leave Shanghai.

Today as I left work and approached the main gate where the office park meets the street, I felt tears welling up for some reason. I guess this crying and homesickness comes in waves. I guess I’m lonely here, but it’s also sort of self-imposed. I don’t feel super connected to anyone here. Even given the sadness I sometimes feel that one might speculate is the result of loneliness, I’d much rather explore the city on my own than with coworkers or relatives. I think I miss the people from home—my closest friends and my parents, people who I can be really honest to and who really get me.

Note to self: Look up Rolf Potts, author of Vagabonding and also a blogger.
***
08.09.07
10:05 PM

Oddly enough, I think I’m going to miss this place.

Tonight was a perfect breezy summer evening. In the past week, there has been a change in the weather. Skies have been blue, as blue as it gets over yonder across the Pacific. It’s actually because of a change in the winds—there is some sort of wind current or monsoon or some other weather phenomenon in the Pacific that is blowing the smog and dust and pollution away from the coast, clearing up the skies for city folk....

I had dinner at Simply Thai, on their deck by the pond at the Green Sports & Leisure Center. There was a breeze blowing, candlelit ambiance, and smooth tunes playing. I swayed to the music and all was perfect and at peace. Then a woman spit in the pond and it was like, Of course....

I suppose I could see myself living here. I can’t decide if I’d want to raise my kids here. I don’t know what sort of identity crisis I want them to find themselves in. I guess it’s inevitable that they’ll have an identity crisis. I feel like I’m going through one right now. According to TIME magazine, identifying with one’s background is one way to happiness. I’m working on it.

I’m so confused. Never in my life have I thought so much. This summer has been a contemplative one… and I still haven’t drawn any conclusions. I suppose that’s good—I’m open to what may come.
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[photos in an upcoming post...]