She’s been Shanghai-ed

I think she’s telling the truth about being unable to post from behind China’s Great firewall … but I have the slightest doubt that this is her sneaky way of getting me to finally post to the blog.
– C

First impressions of China as perceived in the Beijing airport.

We descended to the Beijing airport on a cloud (probably a smog cloud). Made me happy to think the pilots have a horizon orientation tool, because there was no way my eyes could tell which way was up. The window seat was pointless as we didn’t see ground until we were nearly upon it… so I’ll have to see the sights of Bejing another time, because apparently I am not going to see them from the window of a plane.

If what lines the arrival halls of the airport is to give visitors a first impression of what the Chinese value, then in order of importance, it would be: Olympics (advertisements of the 2008 special olympics still addorn the lobby); next comes History (massive, intricate iron artifacts decorate the terminal – from bells, to urns to a rotating dragon-flanked sphere built in 117 to prove the earth is round and rotates. Why do we talk about Galileo again?); and finally technology: I had help purchasing and activating a new sim-card for my mobile phone before even reaching border control.

But all these impressions were dwarfed, truly, by the scale of … well, everything. I’ve had to explore by bus to find Terminal 3 and transfer to my domestic flight to Shanghai. This terminal is massive. It’s at least 3 stories high and stretches … at least a half-mile long but probably longer. Typical for an airport I suppose. But where it differs is in the interior: the whole structure is one open space. Which means a view in any direction feels like you’ve walked into a room with a mirror on either wall, where the reflection mirrors a seemingly endless hallway within a hallway within a hallway, continuing forever until the smallest hallway dimishes to a dot — but if you peer even more closely, you see yet another iteration. So that’s the Beijing airport — and that’s just the architecture.

Anyone who’s been to a china town will probably comment about how rude its locals are – just cutting in front of you, abandoning the concept of lines, not even looking you in the eye. Only, they aren’t being rude, they are being Chinese. In fact, When we expect otherwise, it is we who are rudely projecting our cultural rules onto them. The scale of the population is apparent here in the airport — large tour groups continually parade through the check-in and security gates. And yes, Dad, they are following flags. I keep wondering what will happen if the woman bearing the yellow standard crosses path with a man carrying one similiar — will their tours fall into a state of chaos not knowing which to follow? I imagine them landing 4 hours later at the wrong destination and realizing they had someone followed the wrong yellow flag onto the plane.

As to the lines, I relearned that cultural phenomenon on a trip to the ladies room. Normally a long queue, this seemed a bit more chaotic, with people bipassing those waiting and tring different door handles. Once realizing the doors were locked, they would stand guard outside, pouncing on the vacated porcelain as soon as its previous occupant relinquished the stall. “But there’s a line,” I thought. And then I realized I was the only one standing in it. Everyone else was stalking a stall. There are just so many, many people in China that culturally they have have had to learn to push to the front — for food, for jobs, for attention. Those who don’t push, stay forever in the back, and you can imagine the results. It’s not rude, it’s survival. But when you know a culture’s rules, you can play by them. So when the stall next to me opened, though in my mind I was 4th in line, I was next in the potty. Good thing too

Alas, here I sit with time to spare, lots of restaurants, and not the slightest desire to eat or drink a thing. A food review will definitely be forthcoming … maybe tomorrow after a good night’s rest and a tour of my new surroundings.

A Christmas story in a new economy

Christmas decorations: packed & away – check. Blog: updated with some memories – check. It seems like only the sales and a few lingering street decorations mark the festivities so recently passed.

Yet despite the dour news of Wall Street, Conrad and I look about our streets with uplifted hearts, still on an emotional high from the year passed and ready to face the year ahead.

As Conrad and I look back upon Christmas 08, we don’t first think of our flight delays, wrapping paper or shopping lines. We think of our Christmas tree. And we think of how we posted it, for free, 7 days before Christmas, on Craig’s List. And how we were touched and surprised – not by the 5 responses that came into our email in about 10 minutes, but the story one woman told that touched our hearts and filled us with a real spirit of Christmas. This year, Jennifer (that was her name) found herself unemployed and in a new apartment in the Bronx with her 9 year old son. Unfortunately, the tree was simply one of the luxuries that had to go. “My son kind of understands, but I know he would love a tree in our new apartment,” she wrote. “I hope to be able to have a tree this year, but if not I will make the best of it.” I called her right away. We talked on the phone and her exuberance was palpable. After confirming babysitting duties with a neighbor, Jennifer was able to make a dash from the Bronx to Harlem, load up our now naked Christmas tree on her car, and return with her husband to their apartment where there son would awake, surprised, to a Christmas tree. She may not realize it, but the tree wasn’t free. Jennifer paid us in kindness, in hope, and in faith. She filled our hearts with her hopes for a better tomorrow and a reminder that we are all an active part of the communities we live in.

When she got home with her tree, she sent us an e-mail:  “In These Times I Trust In God And I Know It Will Always Be O.K.” I sure hope so, and we firmly commit to do our part to try.

Our best wishes to everyone for a happy, healthy and mindful 2009.

Recovering from early retirement

Ah retirement … the good life.  You may have heard it before, but really, it’s true. We checked.

This Christmas Conrad and I spent two luxuryous weeks in South Florida. You know the weather map they show on the news every morning? We live where it’s blue in the winter … maybe even white. But my parents? They picked that little triangle at the tip of Florida that’s always orange .. maybe even red. Even better, though we had a few work days to put in at the beginning of the trip, the rest of the vacation was what we call in the biz “lids down” – which made it a real retirement experience.

What do retired people do? Exactly what you think. Only it’s not silly, it’s awesome. Hmmm I wonder if Seinfeld’s Florida episodes were an intentional deception method by the government to encourage us to work longer? Because truly, I’m ready. I’ll retire today if I must. Bring it on.

The agenda is worth sharing, just to rub it in… Sundays are Flea Market mornings. So dad, Conrad and I bunded into dad’s new, purple (or what he calls “maroon” and the dealer calls “red”) SUV and got in line with the migrant orange pickers who sell some really good stuff. Everything from collectible glass ware, to fishing poles, to fresh tomatoes, orchids and tomales. The smells and tastes are as fun to take in as the sights. From there it’s a Sunday breakfast on the porch which if we’re lucky features mom’s homemade corn pancakes. That’s right, kids. Corn. If you haven’t had it, you’re missing out.

Dad is also reusing his captain’s license with the national park service now. Which means we get to swarm the national park service boat to Boca Chita and party tropical style. Speaking of partying tropical style, our time also included a trip north to the beaches of South Beach, happy hour raw bar at Monty’s and New Year’s Eve at Morada Bay dancing the night away under a starry sky bordered by palm trees above and sandy beaches below.

Oh, and I shouldn’t forget that Monday’s are bingo night. But don’t underestimate blue-haired bingo. We are NOT talking about 5-in-a-row. Our “youth group” (median age = 31, mind you) wandered in ready to punch our 5 dots (including free space). Conrad was surprised to learn that you couldn’t have any number in any column (no, Conrad, there is no B35), Andy thought you had to get 5 in a row to win. Yikes, we were behind the times. But we were rescued by the wiser members of our table and shown the light of bingo configurations like the Picture Album and the Double Postage stamp).

There was also shuffleboard and hot tub, canoeing in the everglades, fresh strawberry shakes from the farm and Conrad’s fresh and famous guacamole … but alas, I’m no longer retired and there just isn’t time in the day to give full details of the trip. Suffice it to say, if you were there, you hopefully remember highlights of your own … and if you weren’t there, well, we missed you!

Thanks to Momma & Poppa O, the consummate Camp Leaders of Camp Osmon South.

Living like a local and taking wrong turns

We had a great weekend in the city. Crisp, autumn air has rolled in, and we’re feeling fall.

On Friday, we called around to get a quote for some movers. Conrad found one that is more green than others (bio-diesel trucks and loaned plastic packing bins instead of carboard boxes). That means the boxes I stole borrowed from the office are laying around still unpacked as the guy from “Movers not Shakers” is coming on Monday to give a real quote and he needs to assess our goods. Soooo … that meant the weekend we had allocated for packing was now free. We watched our budgets, but we also watched the city … this moments are the ones that make us remember how much we love living here. Here’s some of the flavour, and links if you want to dig deeper yourselves..

But more than this, it was a reminder that sometimes it’s just best to get lost. Because though we planned a few stops on our visits, it was the surprise turns that really enriched our adventures. So next time you’re out and about, don’t be afraid to get lost, you never know what you’ll find.

Friday night:

• Game night! With friends out of town and others doing chores, we decided to save money and stay in. We ate left overs, and played games that ended in O .. Rummy-O and UnO.

Saturday:

• Lunch in the West Village - a quick Google search of good eats yielded a place we would have walked right by and barely blinked: WestVil. I got a plate full of veggies, and Conrad, hot dogs and sweet potato fries!
• Banksy - infamous British graffiti artist – hits NYC. We made the trip down to the West Village to see his installment … a first in anamatronics / no graffiti … called “The Village Pet Shop and Charcoal Grill” … pictures don’t describe, you’ll have to watch on You Tube. This was a strange site. About 20 people gathered on the street gave it away as something awry, but really, there were no signs that clued in passerby’s, so it was hard to be in the know unless you knew in advance, you know.
• Three lefts and a right. The rest of the day was spent ’splorin. It’s our favorite NYC activity. We just meander around and wander into new neighborhoods to see what we see. We are also addicted to the NYC street fair. So we found two of ‘em and walked through. Got some baked goods, tried a new coffee shop (where they transformed the cream atop of Conrad’s coffee cup into a spider web!!) and found a church bizarre with some fun wool hats .. 2 for $5! (Not to mention an awesome wooden console table for $30 .. unfortunately, already sold.)
• BIRTHDAYS! I love em!! So happy birthday Natasha, thanks for giving us a reason to celebrate!! Oh, and to play with a Wii Fit. Love that too! When Conrad and I give up Cable TV, I think this may be something we put the savings towards acquiring

Sunday: A sleep-in, lazy kind of day

• Lower East Side Apple Day & Go Green festival on … of course .. Orchard street! The theme was green, so many vendors were hawking enviro-friendly wares, or telling you how to compost from within the cramped confines of a NYC apartment, and the like. We bought pork and pickles. Mmmm. Still full.
• And I forgot to mention, we walked the wrong way out of the subway. That was awesome … we found two great things …
  1. China town borders a lighting and light-bulb district! Who knew?? (Many restaurants in the city have really neat old-style light bulbs we’ve been envying for a while, now we know where to find them)
  2. Polo on a bike! … or what I’ve now learned from wikipedia is called Urban Cycle Polo. Yeah … someone chasing a ball, towards me, with a stick, and of course, no helmets to be found. It was VERY fun to watch (but not something I’m going to rush to sign Conrad up for anytime soon! :0)
• Lower East Side BBQ dunch (we were aiming for brunch, but we ate so late I can’t imagine eating again!)
• Tour of the neighborhood. We felt like we were in a foreign world. This little pocket of Orchard Street on a Sunday was very slim on tourists, high on 08’s version of beatniks, and many cafe windows surrendering the warm interiors and secret dens of the dinners within, tempting us to join them. Alas, we declined. After exploring a few more blocks, we called it a day and retreated to our own nest for a hot cup of tea and to recharge our batteries in preparation for the week ahead.

Preview of the week ahead. If .. if .. things go right .. this week will hold a walk through of a new home, a closing, and a new set of keys for our key ring. Cross fingers & stay tuned!

Palin? Really??

I think Fark said it best …

Palin + Question =

From Bangkok to Bangalore

Wow. That’s the only word to describe my first reaction. I thought Bangalore would be “busy” — and by “busy” I pictured a chaotic Times Square of sorts. Not so. The international airport of Bangalore was busy when I arrived, to be sure. But more so because the one guy at customs had to deal with ushering our whole plane through the baggage scan area. No worries … the scan didn’t take long as we arrived at 7:55 and that guy hadn’t arrived yet. Which gate did we arrive at? Why, the international arrival gate. I understand there’s an international departure gate for when we leave too, one. A throng of taxi drivers was crowding the exit waving small pieces of computer paper with hand-written names on them. And the ride, once we did find our driver, to the hotel — about a 5 mile drive — took us about 30 minutes with driving speeds ranging anywhere from crawl to hurdle, backed by a symphony of car honks and tire squeals.

But the hotel. There’s that wow word again. You step off the crowded, poverty-ridden streets into luxury like I have never known: the Leela Palace Bangalore. Wow. I’m only sorry Conrad couldn’t join me on this last forray into a new slice of Asian culture.

Bangkok … here we are!

We arrived in Bangkok tired with only 2 hours of sleep the night before, but full of desire to explore this new place.

First reaction: it was definitely foreign. We were fish out of water as soon as we stepped on the airport escalator and had no idea what the lady was saying to us over the loud speaker.

The culture / language / etc was … well, we didn’t really know what to expect for Thailand other than stories from Shelly & other friends who’ve been. I would call it a cross between Indian + Chinese. The writing is beautiful.

The Thai people believe people have 6 senses: sight, sound, touch,  smell, taste … and feel with the heart. That last one is evident in their greetings and rules their behavior … though it doesn’t stop them from being … “capitalistic” and trying to extort what they can … we got both ends of that.

Walking out of the hotel, we met a woman who helped us cross the road (really) and then commandeered our map, marked out some hot spots, and called us a trishaw & negotiated us a good rate (they call this 3 person motorcycle taxi a “tuk-tuk” for the sound it makes … we wished we had gas masks to deal with the fumes from all the traffic). The driver brought us to a tour agency for us to make plans to visit the Floating Market on the next day, and then to the river ferry where we headed up stream to check out the buddahs.

We could go on and on. Suffice it to say, we met quite a few people who helped us on our way — some where genuinely trying to help, and others made us think twice. But everyone had a smile … and they were all so pleased to give us advice on what we should see and what we should know about their country (though sometimes it was hard to communicate).

The floating market was a racket. It was interesting to think about that as being the way it used to be … a Venice of types. But today, it’s just a tourist gimmick with everyone selling you souvenirs and fruit you just saw two boats down. The food was great though — tons of variety & great flavors. We also saw handicraft stores and a jewelry factory and a few other places along the way. When we managed to keep our eyes open on the bus ride, we also saw the poverty and colorful countrysides of the real Thailand.

The night markets were a whole other “colorful” experience. But I think I’m running out of eye space to tell you about it … so we’ll post more comments with the pictures.

I hate it when …

… you meet a nice person who has one of those crazy, lazy eyes… and you’re just not sure which one to look at!

A little more singrish for you…

On my Mitsubishi A/C remote control:

“Notice: At any change of an existing mode finished by the white button during the air conditioning, be sure to push the transmit button (green) finally. A ‘change alarm’ signal displayed means the consumed battery. Replace the consumed batter with a new one.  At any replacement of the battery, be sure to push the transmit button (green) for about 10 seconds or more after removing the used battery. Then set a new battery as before.”

… granted, this english is much better than my chinese or japanese or any other language for that matter. Still, on printed labels from a company like Mitsu., it warrants a blog smile

The best of …

I wonder if people notice why you cry in the Traveler’s Lounge.

I was skimming through  The Best of Craig’s list looking for the “Survival of the fittest (M&M)” story (great read if you haven’t seen it before) when I came across …

An Angel in the Post Office

A 4-year old writes, ” Dear God, Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven…” (full story)

There are some great people in this world. I’m always happy to hear their stories. Happy Christmas to everyone!