I took a trip during our 4 day holiday to Shanghai to see Philippe. I am very used to the drill now; weasel my way out of classes on the day of the flight, search for taxis that seem to never come, miss the bus to the airport, take a ridiculously expensive cab ride to the airport, get in two car accidents, etc. Shanghai reminds me so much of Chicago its scary. On the cab ride to Phil’s apartment I spaced out and thought I was in Chicago for a while, until I saw the huge signs for the Olympics, where are basically every 10 feet in any Chinese city. I don’t know what the hell this country will have going for it after the Olympics.
For the first time in maybe 10 years I watched the X-files. I was overcome with a joy I cannot really explain, except that it reminded me of my childhood and how I haven’t really changed. I still find the stories hilarious, the acting less than great, and Mulder strangely attractive. I guess if anything I side more with Scully now in her scientific and rational approach to cases, which is stupid really, because we all know Mulder was always right. But come on, some of his claims are just ridiculous.
My flight back home was at 10:30pm, the latest one to Wuhan. Of course its delayed when I get there until at least 12:45am. This comes as little surprise, as most flights I have taken here have been delayed (one time Phil’s flight to Wuhan was delayed 5 hours because they “lost” the plane). I have a little panic attack because I am already exhausted and don’t really want to lay down on the waiting chairs in the airport for 2 hours. Chinese announcements are ringing all around me, nothing in English. I try to see what people who have the same ticket as I do are doing; one minute they are sitting, and then after a blaring announcement they all groan and pick up their bags and start walking towards the door. I learn that we are being taken to a hotel to sleep for a few hours. We pile into a van and drive for at least a half an hour. This is disconcerting to an already anxious me. We get to a hotel and I share a room with a Chinese girl who speaks a little English. She was mostly interested in loudly texting her boyfriend as I tried to fall asleep.
At 3:30am we are phoned and told that our plane had arrived, and we were bused back to the airport. I am barely conscious until we land in Wuhan at 5:30am. Our luggage does not appear until another half hour later, and at this point I have given up any hope of getting sleep before having to teach at 9:30. I get a taxi back to my apartment for 80 kwai, which was probably way too much, and lay in my bed for about an hour before going to school.
But ah, I would do it all again.
Love.
Coco