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November 11, 2006
China--Day One
Dear reader, it has been an exhausting trip. I left the house at 4:30 a.m. on Friday morning to catch a 6:50 a.m. flight to Chicago. A three hour layover, and then a 15 hour flight to Shangai (in a packed plane)--and then there was the hour and a half to get through customs. And THEN an hour drive from the airport to my hotel. Where I am right now, thank goodness, because any more and I was going to just curl up and sleep on the side of the road.
Shanghai is a strange place--a mix between Tokyo and New York City. And since I'm too tired to do a proper description justice, let's instead play a fun game of "Like/Not Like". Here we go:
How China is Like Japan: Fun English translations, like "New Paragon of Urban Bedroom" real estate and "Beauty Shadow Club" night life.
How China is Not Like Japan: Japan doesn't require Americans to have a visa, and the entry into the country is quick and painless. In China, not only do you have to have a visa (which is twice the price for Americans as for other nationalities), but there are THREE different forms to fill out upon entering the country. First, a SARS form, in which you are asked to list any SARS-like symptoms you've had in the past 48 hours, including cough, sneeze, and/or snivel. Second, an entry form, similar to all other countries, where you list name, address, reason for visit, etc. Third, a declaration form, which basically asks you to re-enter all the entry form information, plus identify whether you are carrying into the country any fruit or poisonous reptiles.
How China is Like Japan: Crazy drivers that believe lanes are mostly suggestions, and men who pull their cars over to the side of the road, and then pee into the gutter like it's no big deal. Also, adorable trucks with guys and their lady friends driving together to deliver their goods.
How China is Not Like Japan: In China, they drive on the right side of the road.
How China is Like Japan: Oh the neon signs. It's everywhere, EVERYWHERE. And there are cars and bikes and people and vespas and old people pedaling giant flats of shrubbery and more people and more cars everywhere you look.
How China is Not Like Japan: I don't remember Japanese drivers using their horns with such frequent, not-so-friendly vigor. From my hotel room on the 10th floor, the cacophony outside is distinctly New York-ish.
How China is Like Japan: Two words: Picture Menus. Thank goodness, because there were several things I would have ordered based on their descriptions that were totally revolting in the picture. And I'm not a picky eater by any means, but there is something about jellied meats that just doesn't sit well.
How China is Not Like Japan: I was secretly hoping that Shanghai food would be more like Japanese food. I love ramen noodle bowls (the real Japanese kind, not the kind you get for $0.08 a piece at Safeway) and everything that goes along with it. And maybe I was missing something, but the pork and vegetable rolls I got tonight more resembled a deep fat fried roll of lunch meat (with a sprig of cabbage in the middle for good measure) than an exotic foreign food.
How China is Like Japan: EVERYONE SMOKES. Even during meals. Between bites. From gold cigarette holders.
How China is Not Like Japan: Nope, the smoking is JUST LIKE JAPAN.
How China is Like Japan: Fancy toilets, with Star Trek control panels. Bidet options include "hip cleaning" (with a nice picture of a spurt of water between the buttocks) and "for women" which I can only assume means a different location for the spurting. There is a drying option, and a caution about the heat level--which makes me VERY nervous about trying the whole thing out.**
How China is Not Like Japan: As far as I can tell, there isn't soft core porn on any of the television channels. But it's early yet, so perhaps in a few hours this will, indeed, become just like Japan.
Ok, that's all I can muster for now. I'm sitting in my room after a strange dining experience. I wasn't sure if it would be considered rude to bring a book with me to dinner, so I went unarmed. I was surrounded by groups of people in the middle of elaborate, multi-course (and, of course, smoke-filled) dinners. About five minutes after I ordered, the jet lag caught up to me and I had a full-on Lost in Translation experience where everything was a blur (with weird Asian techno playing in the background) and I felt very out of place. Not in a bad, uncomfortable way--just in a regular out-of-place sort of way.
So now I'm back in my room, dressed in the robe and slippers so thoughtfully provided, and greedily eyeing the bed with its fluffy white duvet and piles of pillows. Everything seems to be in order, and I can't wait to get started on my sightseeing tomorrow morning.
**But, since I consider it my duty to all my America-bound readers to give them the full vicarious experience, I will make a point to try it all out and report back tomorrow.
Comments
You go girl! I want a full report! Doesn't "Lost In Translation" cover not just Japan but any country where it's so foreign you're afraid to leave the hotel?
Posted by: Elizabeth at November 11, 2006 08:03 PM
