China China China. Where do I begin? The plane. Getting on the plane was the first moment I felt that uncomfortable stripping of the warm blanket of familiarity of my surroundings.
Brian had warned me to not get offended by the pushiness of the Chinese so I was somewhat prepared when I lined up to get on the plane and person after person kept stepping in front of the small space I left between myself and the person in front of me. After figuring out that you literally have to be piggybacking someone in front of you to not get cut off I made it onto the flight. The aisles were filled with loud speaking, fast talking, Chinese people with carton after carton of cigarettes shrink wrapped in "duty free" labeling. How much do these people smoke anyway?
As quick as they may have been to get on the flight, they were in no hurry to move once in the aisles. Lounging in the middle of the aisles brushing hair while lines of people wait to get past, an old lady behind me yelling at some girl chattering away in front of me while wacking her in the arm because she was not moving fast enough, people pushing way too large bags into small unforgiving spaces, sweating, staring at me trying to shove my way as though I was the crazy one, shove, sweat, shove, sweat,....ahhhh. I finally sit my ass down. After what seems like a good hour, the flight attendants finally convince the last person to please sit down, turn around in their seat, and put their seat belt on. I can feel their frustration this much energy must take to try to control. It is exhausting and I am still in L.A. To add insult to injury, our flight got delayed ON the tarmak for 3 and a half hours...with no A/C and nothing but Chinese chatter. Call it what you want. I called it hell on earth.
During the flight I realized something else I will have to come to terms with. Chinese people like to stare. Not just watching you walk down the aisle to your bathroom break. Like...Waking up and the lady across the aisle is looking right at me. Every time I woke up, it was like her internal-stare-alarm-clock went off and her eyes were waiting for mine. Kinda creeped me out. Now it is something I have become used to a bit, though I doubt I will ever fully get there. People like to watch whatever the hell you are doing. Brian and I are celebrities every time we ride the subway. If we are out drinking beers, tables around us are watching what we drink. And don't even get me started on if I have my arm tattoo showing. People will stop in the intersection and their heads will do a 180 as they pass me by. (I am now understanding why my father insists I cover it up in Egypt) I am still at the early point of laughing out loud about it but my recent ex-pat acquaintances tell me it will eventually get really old and bother me. I must remind myself it is not personal...it is cultural.
This reminds me of the time I went to Greece with my father and sister at 17. Men there are very forward and stare a lot as well with the addition of comments you are happy not to understand due to their lewd delivery. It was such a relief when we landed in London and no one gave a crap who I was. There is a comfort in anonymity that I think I have taken for granted in my hometown.
All this leads to a beautiful destination, however.
After a ridiculously easy customs experience of about 15 minutes, a smile, a nod, a stamp stamp stamp...I was in Shanghai. Due to our delay my travels became an even 24 hour experience of which I had slept only a few. I was grateful for the swift delivery once there. After grabbing my luggage and fighting past a line of people to get out of the secured area, I almost ran out the welcome line. Brian stood at the end hiding behind a "Sarah Gilbert" sign, all dressed up and clean with his shiny white smile. I cannot describe the relief and release it was to have him put his arms around me and just be there for the two minutes I held on. Haaaaaaa.....Exhale the long pent up shit...My home and I are finally together again. Even if it is in Shanghai.
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