Reviewing the blog I intend to publish today nearly a year later, I deliberate the extreme difference in life and perspective that moving from Pudong to Puxi inspired. As opposed to the occasional grey bleakness of my journey to work from the Pudong side, I now feel part of a life in Shanghai which is partially but significantly, integrated (it helps that I’m being taught Shanghainese by my mad cat lady neighbour who fixes socks on the side of the road for a living and who, when not fixing socks or chatting to the crooked old lady next door on rickety wooden stools, seems to cook immense amounts of fish from dawn until dark for the multitude of cats that loiter around our doors – they bask in no more love from me than a ‘ni hao’ when I get in from work).
I am the new laowai. Discussed, aided and embraced (that was not fun) by my new community and I love it. But more on that in future posts – for now, I continue with my recollection of my early days in Shanghai where I am in Pudong, happy although still ‘alien’ and not quite flush with my surroundings, suffering the odd splinter of doubt but hovering a hesitant open palm over the twig broom handle of Shanghai that I am allowed to occasionally grasp.
1st September 2015
It’s September, I’ve been here six months and still feel the need to to better acquaint myself with Shanghai, to ‘sink my teeth in’ as I so earnestly projected in my last post. I have decided that using the Metro could be a most enlightening tactic. By using the Metro, I am forced to wander to my eventual destination thereby discovering interesting and magical places of wonder on my journeys. So far, I have discovered that I inevitably walk the wrong way when I leave the station thus necessitating an extra half hour on top of journey times so as to maintain punctuality. I have also noted that the screen shot category on my phone gallery is filled with limited maps and taxi cards in case of the need for ‘back-up’. An A-Z would be useful; when attempting to purchase one yesterday in a lovely little book shop, I discovered that this most useful little map book was unavailable so I had to settle for 80 quid’s worth of books and a mint-choc-chip ice cream.
The first two weeks of term has been fairly active. At school I am spending time on a new project involving ‘reading’ photography, enabling my pupils to identify skills in perception and inference before transferring them to the ‘reading’ of literature – a desperate but effective stalling project while I await book deliveries which has worked out pleasingly. I have a heacy timetable but have discovered that the additional demands on my time are an added stimulus and that when busy, I am (I might live to regret this) more effective.
Safe from misdirection and head down map reading on the school bus last week, I saw a redundant twig broom, laying battered, broken and bare on the pavement which was saddening. I wondered whether resurrection was possible, I really did.
The school bus is proving useful although full which means avoiding conversation as is my early morning predilection is becoming rather more difficult. Still, as I donned my headphones, hid within my hoodie and selected a little Dire Straits the other morning, I was able to view the passing scenery with a renewed guitar inspired perspective. ‘Brothers in Arms’ was gathering momentum with our speed and the buildings I passed blurred so that the rooves, when they could be seen, were mere flashes of pale orange and blue. Everything was a little more magical – even the almost derelict towers. Washing hanging on balconies, scooters apparently climbing walls and the odd topless, leathered old man stood watching the world go by, became a foggy haze (somewhat thankfully! One of the men standing, smoking on his balcony had rather a huge undulating chest from what I could make out – think Ursula from The Little Mermaid). As the drums launched at 4 minutes 14 seconds we simultaneously joined a faster, crazier road, it was all such a well timed immersive journey that I acknowledged I was having a lovely time and found myself wishing that some of you could see what I could see what I could see and framed this little snippet for the imaginary movie being created in my head. That was of course until a ‘newbie’ (affectionate term under which I am no longer categorised) tapped me on the arm and ‘terribly sorry’ asked if I knew where they could pay their internet bill. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t and a little gutted to say my reverie was broken.
This week has involved consuming a variety of splendid food; a good old cheesy dance in the local pub for a friend’s birthday where the ‘oh no I couldn’t possibly’ was soon replaced my lightening quick footwork and timely jiggling to ‘Brown Eyed Girl; a dodgy MaiTai and a most unexpected street-side meet with an old colleague from Dubai while standing outside a restaurant in the French Concession. I shall endeavour to use the Metro, to explore the city and to eat healthily as my budget allows before Bali at the end of the month. Oh and so excited was I that I had discovered (or was given pointed advice to find) a place that serves Shashuka, that I proclaimed it loudly after breakfast! I was promptly informed that I had in fact been to this establishment at least twice and my friend could confirm as she had in fact been with me both times! Such are my amazing navigation skills and memory recall.
Oh and on a final note – in my attempt to socially integrate myself further, I have joined ‘wechat’. Well, when what I excitedly thought were lots of lovely messages saying ‘hello’ popped up, I was gutted, nay, a little crushed to see that I had joined a group that like to tell each other what they had for breakfast and so on and so forth. I guess it can’t always be ‘movie potential’.
She went to Shanghai 