I wake up at the crack of 4am, and my mom and I hop in the car. We get to the MSP airport no problem, and I begin my check in. When going through the whole, "scan this, swipe that, answer these questions on a touchscreen" bit, I answer the question "Are you going to Tokyo-Narita?" in the affirmative. This question is ambiguous, as it is not clear whether they are asking if it is my final destination or if it is merely a place I will be going as part of my trip. As later events will make clear, I make the wrong choice. The immediate consequence is that the Tokyo-Shanghai leg of my trip doesn't show up on the touch screen, but--no worries--my boarding pass prints out just fine.
Security. Mom waits at the line to make sure I get through all right. I get flagged for no apparent reason and get the whole pat down. When I'm getting the magic detector wand waved over my person, I discover that everything in my pockets is in some way metallic (Note: gum wrappers). I am too tired to remember that my mom is out there looking at me, presumably a bit worried and confused. In any event, I'm not a terrorist, a drug runner, or any other kind of TSA bogeyman, so the security check is merely inconvenient and not a big deal. I go grab some starbucks and wait at the gate.
O'Hare. More waiting. I find a nice big seat at the gate and promptly fall asleep on my luggage. I wake up not to my travel alarm clock (which I have been carrying around in my pocket all day... umm maybe that's why I got flagged?) but rather to my name being blared over the loud speaker. I practically fall out of my seat and wobble over to the counter on my partially asleep legs. "Here's your new boarding pass sir [for the Tokyo-Shanghai leg of the trip]." Well thanks, I didn't know anything was wrong with my original one. Soon, we're on the plane, and we've set--metaphorical--sail for Tokyo. I manage to get more sleep and watch a bunch of movies. This leg of the flight is run by All-Nippon Airways, and I highly recommend it. Asian airlines always give you cool stuff like personal screens for watching movies, even when you're in coach. Having this on the 13 hour flight is highly desirable.
Tokyo-Narita. Wait, wait, wait. Fail at connecting to the Google free wireless hotspot. Go eat some kimchi fried rice and talk to this guy who just got back from Thailand. Apparently a friend of his attempted to set him up with her niece in Laos--a nice girl, I'm told--but he found the whole "Nice to meet you, me love you long time, green card please" arrangement too weird to take seriously. Good job, random dude. You've totally improved my image of middle-aged men who vacation in Thailand. Find big seat, sleep on luggage. Again, I wake up to my name blaring on the speakers. Except it's barely my name. It's maybe "Mistah Peeetoh Neduson" at best. Beset by a bone-chilling fear that I am about to miss my flight, I hobble post-haste to the counter. "Here is your boarding pass sir." Thanks. Thanks whoever designed that stupid touchscreen. Hope you didn't send my luggage to Africa.
Shanghai. Here at last!!!!! My totally suspicious visa gets me into the country with nothing more than a 谢谢 and a 不客气 being exchanged. I pick up my bag without a hitch, and customs is easy peasy: When I walk up to the guards and attempt to explain that I have food in my bag, they wave me through before I can say anything. Sometimes looking like a stupid laowai has its advantages. As soon as I exit customs, I find myself looking into a crowd of expectant people, holding up signs and smiling. Which one of them is the person I am looking for? A middle aged woman and a young woman wave at me and say "Peter?". Yes! Yes, I am Peter; please take me somewhere to sleep!
We are driving to the hotel. I've learned that both of the women are from Taiwan. The middle aged woman is named Jane, and she is the principal of the school. The young woman is named May (I think?), and she is here to translate for Jane. Also, she is gorgeous. But I digress. As we maneuver through the Shanghai traffic, glimpses of the Expo flying by, we talk. Jane is impressed by my Chinese. May is trying to teach me the incredibly simple--and, as she tells me, most important--phrase "You are beautiful" (你很漂亮 = ni3 hen3 piao4liang4, for the uninitiated). I'm not sure whether this is because her opinion of my Chinese is much lower than that of Jane, or whether she just likes having white guys tell her she is beautiful. In any event, we reach the hotel and Jane checks in for me. After I heroically defeat the confusing swipe-card lock on my room door (Actually, I fail to do this. Then May can't figure it out, and then she accidentally gets it to work. I like my version better.), the women say good night and leave.
Instead of hitting the hay, I go out in search of an ATM. I push through a gathering of food-carts selling various freshly-fried goodies and trek past housing developments with walls plastered in Expo slogans (with well-written English versions written below that strangely do not resemble the Chinese meaning) before I find a 24-hour ATM. Mercifully, my card works no problemo, and I meander back to the hotel with a fistful of RMB and a grin. Feeling exceptionally efficacious, I take a crack at getting my internet to work. It does. So does my proxy server. As a reward for my surprisingly successful day, I dick around on facebook for a bit before face-planting into my bed.
-Peter
I can actualy see your face when I read this. It's the awesome.
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