Shanghai: Part II

In the morning we step out of our hotel and onto Nanjing road, where we notice a thin fog of persistent rain, and us with no umbrellas. As soon as we step onto the street, a woman comes up to us trying to sell us bags and watches. Although we’ve only been in China for about fourteen hours, this woman is something like the fiftieth person who’s tried to sell us the same stuff. Having lost my Midwest super-politeness, I said, more to Colin than her, “If you were selling umbrellas, then we could talk.” But since I had said anything at all, she decided to follow us for half a block. If I ever go back to Shanghai, I’ll stay away from Nanjing road. It’s stressful having someone aggressively trying to sell you something every twenty seconds. And sometimes they even look like completely normal people who suddenly emerge from the crowd of all the other normal Chinese people going about their business to try to sell you things. It’s a little unnerving.

Within a minute we see someone selling umbrellas, interestingly, just sitting out of the rain with her merchandise in a Tupperware container, not pursuing anyone, and we buy two, then head to the Shanghai Museum. Hardened from our fourteen hours, Colin and I were wearing our “leave me alone” faces. Anyone who greeted us, asked us where we were from, or tried to tell me how beautiful I was, we had to ignore completely, because we knew the next thing to happen would be them trying to sell us something. It was hard, because that’s kind of the opposite of my role as a good Samaritan in Japan. I’m always answering questions from strangers, and trying to smile and be warm, but in Shanghai, you just can’t. Anyway, when we reached the museum, we saw that the line to get in wrapped all the way around the building. Apparently, museum admission had just become free, which is great, but as a result it was crazy packed. Since the museum was one of the main sights we came to see, we decided to wait. We were comfortable with our umbrellas protecting us not only from the light spray of rain, but from the attention of the umbrella-hawkers walking the length of the line.

We had been waiting for about fifteen minutes when the woman in front of us in line turned around to say hello in English and started trying to coerce her young daughter to talk to us. We were guarded at first, but since they were fellow line-waiters we decided they really were just practicing their English. So I transitioned back into friendly foreigner mode as the little girl hid behind her hands and squealed in embarrassment while her mother suggested things to ask us. Even though she was mostly too embarrassed to say anything directly to us, from the phrases she ran by her mother, we were pretty impressed with her English. It was definitely better than most Japanese adults. When she asked us where we were from and we told her America, she exclaimed “Oh my goh!” That’s one phrase she has in common with Japanese kids. Then she started pointing to a phrase in her English book that translated as “In China, we believe in communism.” During the wait, the girl spelled the word “museum” for us, then asked Colin to sing, but was very displeased by his singing. Then he asked her to sing, and she did, nervously and in Chinese. It was a good time.

I’m getting bored writing this. I get the feeling no one will read it or care anyway. So I’ll end it quickly. The museum was excellent. We walked to the French quarter afterwards, which was very interesting, and Colin bought a cell phone strap that was a panda eating a piece of bamboo. The bamboo broke off within a week. We had a delicious lunch consisting of those steamed, meat-filled buns. I can’t remember what they’re called. At night faced my big fear and took the subway again during rush hour to get to the Shanghai circus. It wasn’t nearly as bad as before. And the circus was fantastic, like Cirque du Soleil only Chinese and awesome. For our late dinner, we ended up at Pizza Hut, and I would feel guilty but oh my god it was so amazing. I didn’t even like Pizza Hut in the States, and thought I wasn’t so big on pizza in general before I came here, but once it’s gone completely for so long, the taste of actual pizza without mayonnaise or seafood or corn or anything can give you such a mouth-gasm. The next morning we walked to Yuyuan Gardens, which was beautiful and pretty different from Japanese gardens, and we also petted a really nice garden kitty. Colin bought a pocket watch that had Chairman Mao shaking his fist on the face. He argued the price down quite a bit, but the watch still stopped within a couple days. By the time I left, I felt good about China as a vibrant, interesting and historically rich place. I’d definitely go back. I hate ending a post so stupidly, but nobody will read it, so who cares.