The Arrival
As I exit the terminal, a familiar smell fills my nostrils and invades my lungs: cigarettes and car exhaust. At first it is suffocating, then comforting. It tells me that I have returned to a familiar place, a place I intend to make my home for at least the next year. I have returned to Shanghai.
It's been two years since I was last here, but something about it makes it seem as if now time has passed.
I lug my four bags into one of the many taxis outside, politely waiting in line for a fare. It's a familiar routine: load my bags, butcher the pronounciation on one of the most easy-to-pronounce intersections in the city, and then show the sifu (driver) the piece of paper with my folks' address in characters. Sparing no time at all, the taxi leaves Pudong Airport and heads towards the city center, a few miles away.
As we traverse the large elevated road (the equivalent to an overpass), I gaze out on a familiar landscape. At first, there is green as far as you could see, with random high rises popping out of the landscape that qucikly get more and more concentrated. I often turn my gaze towards the west and see a rust-colored sun sitting amongst a thick grey platform of clouds, like a massive orange resting on the horizon. I silently wonder how often I would see the sun again here.
After spending close to an hour on the road, my taxi drops me off at the closest thing to a third home: an art-deco apartment building in Xuhui District, where my parents have lived since 2011. The gate beeps as I que in the code, and I pay the lady in the small "lobby" a friendly ni hao. My next feat approaches me: getting myself and everything I have in the small elevator at the back of the cramped lobby...WITHOUT knocking over someone's scooter or bike.
It's a snug fit but doable. Thank heavens I only have myself for now!
The elevator reaches my floor, and I drag my bags out. It was fortunately easier than stuffing them in to begin with. After quickly scoping the apartment for my own posterity and memory, I get ready for dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in the entire city: Spicy Joint!
My friends from Dad's office meet me downstairs, and from there we head off. It's only a few minutes away, located on the second story of a busy building with a non-descript lobby on the first floor. The site is familiar; a few seats for people waiting in line, though the episode of Sherlock playing on the TV screen is unexpected. Truly, they have started to appeal to westerners even more! We grab a number and take a seat, as a man walks by with a lit cigarette in mouth. Smoking indoors is pretty common here, even when it isn't allowed! Part of the experience, I guess.
As soon as we get out table, I guzzle two cups of cha (tea), ensuring that I will make it through the evening without passing out with my face in chili paste beef. I quickly kill off my taste buds with well-known Sichuan cuisine as I catch up with my hosts. They are kind people, originally from the Dallas office, who had been living in China as long as my parents had. A good ole' dude from Kentucky and a Korean woman who had grown up in the States; you can just imagine the stories that they have had while being here! We eat heartily, sharing about 9 dishes for less than $30!! The price is right, my friends.
After spending such a wonderful evening back in China, how do I end the day? Killing off the cha with a few hours of video games on this newfangeled computer of mine. What else are you going to do at 10 in the evening, when you are still to unaware to go out for the evening? There will be time for that, I am sure.
So concludes my first day back in good old Shanghai. I am still somewhat nervous but excited to be moving into the apartments at the campus I am teaching. To think: I will be experiencing and sharing this place with people my age for once! It makes the savage heat of the summer all the more inviting.
