Belated First Impressions {Cameron}

Having been settled for a full month now it seems a bit tardy to be posting this, but here it is anyways, two writings I had made after entering Shanghai and then Shaoxing. They were unable to be posted at the time due to the great firewall of China, but now we're past that here it is.

Morning of the 31^st of January

The moment we arrive into the center of Shanghai, it is distinctly clear that the rhythm of the city is a resting pulse: traffic is calm, the shops are shuttered and even the smog seems to have settled somewhere away from here. Movements are muffled shuffles, greetings are relaxed smiles and the huge numb skyscrapers that envelop us stand in remembrance and promise of busier days. Only the sound of stray taxis barking and the racket of bi-hourly municipal fireworks break the content silence that has blanketed the city. Prior to arriving into Shanghai for the dawn of the two-week Chinese new year holiday, we held expectations of party fervor; a clamor reverberated by Shanghai’s 25,000,000 people showing up within full force of celebration. Alas, the sensation of the eve of our western new year is not to be considered synonymous with that of the east. If anything, I feel like a tourist on Christmas, here for the party, but only greeted by the unfortunate few forced to work and operate the obligatory institutions. Chinese New Year seems to be a celebrated indeed, but behind closed doors, with home cooked meals and gathered family. Good for them.

Firework Greeting

View of Nanjing Square from our hotel room

We have arrived into this foreign culture heartbeat racing, expecting to hit the ground running, but instead, there is a sense of calm we have had to adjust to. Julie and I, with all the hype and sensation, overcompensated in preparation to stand fast against some overwhelming tide, when in fact the waters are quite still. A blessing I suppose, considering that our upcoming journey isn’t a sprint, but an endeavor of stable rhythm and endurance. As our feet become grounded and our senses familiarized, the pace around us will surely crescendo in progression with our own.

Febuary 4^th, 9am

We’ve arrived in Shaoxing. In a word, it is Chinese. We’ve been here 36 hours now and I have not seen one head of hair other than our own deviate from natural black or charcoal grey. The downtown seems like a continuous market broken up only by bouldering business towers. We live literally earshot from our school and 1 minute walk from one of the many downtown 2-floor KFC’s, perhaps the most universally revered institution of China’s 1.3 billion people. No joke, there are line-ups trailing outside the door on any given hour. Where there is KFC, there is everything… only the most pristine real estate will do. Perhaps, like water, KFC creates real estate. KFC is a river for its people. As such, we are close to everything - situated right in the heart of this city, cut like a grid by rivers and canals. 

Chinese New Year is still in full swing, an hour ago I was awoken by the obligatory municipal fireworks. Rarely an hour goes by without the formal reminder that the holidays are upon us. Those who don’t directly depend on street traffic for revenue are spending the day leisurely, evidenced by the public parks, restaurants and markets crowded at all times of the day. It is nice to see, everyone seems to be in cheerful spirits. Steam filled hole-in-the-wall family restaurants commonly have the whole crew, gathered around a platter of food, doors open to the public as a formality, but a clear aura which states like a sign “this is our time, please don’t bother us”.

Our arrival into Shaoxing felt surreal. Yesterday, sitting in our Shanghai hotel lobby we met a employee of the school sent on an errand to pick us up; Kingsley was his name and his age was about the same as mine. So here he strolls up wearing a full pleather and Teflon outfit, his charm seemed largely cut and pasted from watching the Fonz. Initially this was off-putting but as I began to understand the circumstance more fully it became endearing. Here is a kid, recently a husband and recently a father.  The well being of his family rests on a career of teaching English in a city where there are no native speakers, and certainly no informal conversational English practiced. Although he was born and raised in Shaoxing, a simple hour and a half trip away by train, he has never leasurely visited or explored the city. One time only had been to Shanghai before greeting us, and that was to greet another teacher. His experience of the city was [train station-taxi-hotel-taxi-train station]. 

So here he is, nerves through the roof of being entrusted with this errand, entering a city which has always been either an hour-and-a-half, or 90¥ out of reach, and to top it off, tasked with making a good impression to people from a totally different culture and natively fluent in what he has dedicated his life towards – English. We had a bit of time so I suggested that we go out for a beer. Nerves were expressed via machine gun laugher so I passed it off as a joke and just suggested a stroll around the square.

The time came to catch our train, with about 250lbs of luggage to haul behind us, we moved slow and deliberate. I got caught in a snag with my hunting knife, which was a bit of a stress on poor Kingsley who was tasked with translation, as I tried to convince a squad of 5 bewildered police that it wasn't a "murder weapon" as they claimed, but a tool. They took my point, but wouldn't let me on the train with it. The conseierge refused to send it to my school because it was a "weapon", so after a few more futile attempts I had to toss it. Pretty upset about that. Early retirement. Moving on…

We haul ourselves around three stations to finally hit the main terminal that will speed us off to Shaoxing. I sleep during the ride and by the time we arrive nighttime is in full effect. As we step out of the trolley we are met with a long one-way escalator descending through a thick haze of fog and mist. From the top, the bottom is obscured. Landing at the base we find ourselves at the edge of a massive concrete square, as empty and flat as frozen lake and greeted by a host of people offering rides into town. One is picked and we embark across the hazy square to find a black car, parked in the dead center of a dead end 6 lane highway. No cars. There are buildings, but the only light projected is that of street lamps. Luggage goes in the trunk and Julie and I sit in the back behind the tinted windows and silent driver.

Our drive was silent and both inside and outside of the car, it took a while to see another car join us on this broad stretch of pavement, but as it entered the city we wading within a sea of taxis, tri-cycles and pedestrians. Oblivious to our surroundings we turn down a narrow alley, decked out with luminescent signs projecting characters of a foreign language, then turn to one even more narrow – and dark. One more turn to the point I expected the mirrors to scrape at any moment and then car stops. We get out and find ourselves in a residential complex. The driver is thanked an paid. Kingsley leads the way and dutifully we follow, trekking our luggage up 7 flights of stairs to the top floor, a door is opened and we have arrived to what will be our home away from home for the next year to come.

 - Cameron