Arrival
And then...we were there. I wasn't really nervous or anything at the time. Just curious about how things would play out. I remember stepping off the plane, half wondering if anyone was going to even be waiting for me, and if not, if the cell phone BESI gave me would even work (its a good thing someone was there, because the phone turned out to be a dud). I had expected China to have a crowded, more closed-in feel, but the airport was anything but - high ceilings, wide hallways, not that many people (however it was late, and this was the international flights section of the terminal).
With the rest of the cattle, I followed the crowd through the visa checkpoint, went down an escalator, retrieved my luggage, and exited into an area full of Chinese people holding signs and straining to find particular faces. I guess I had walked past the program director and his sign, because he called me from behind. Our meeting was very brief; he had had a death in the family so he was actually running off to catch his flight back to the states. And suddenly I was with Kim (another foreign teacher), Helena (who I would later learn would be in charge of me at Babel), and Fang Lang (BESI's chinese employee). And in China.
We bummed around the airport for a bit, and I got to know Kim a little better. Helena and Fang Lang took the wrong way a couple times trying to find a place to get a drink and sit down. I don't know if it was comforting that someone else felt a little disoriented and not sure where to go - or if it was not comforting because they happened to be the people we were totally dependant on. After passing through this mall-ish area with Westernish store-fronts, we eventually rested in one wing of the airport with a few restaurants and juice bars. I felt like I was in Japan. Not that I've ever been there.
After an hour or so we met up with the other teachers coming in. It was great to connect and swap digits and chat excitedly about the months ahead (I'm sure I totally acted like the expert on China - I mean, I was, after my ninety minutes of experience). And this is going to sound totally cheesy - but its something about an experience like this that really creates a bond between people. I almost felt like I was seeing old friends the first time I met them.
There was a brief drama in the parking garage when new contracts were presented to us to be signed - with wrong return dates on them. Mine said I was to work until the end of August. There had been a mix-up, and of course, I didn't sign it. But eventually understanding was reached, new contracts were promised, and we headed off into the vans, bidding adieu to Elena who was going to her school in a separate vehicle.
The freeway from Shanghai was wide and well-lit with massive billboards shouting unintelligible slogans (that has been the greatest blessing of not knowing the language that well: being free from the influence of advertising). Regrettably I could not see much of Shanghai as we exited.
I think I must have said aloud "Wow, I'm actually in China!" like a moron a million times that night.
The Worst Moment of My Life
While I've finished with puberty (I think - although to be honest, I really wouldn't mind a second growth spurt), there are times when I still don't understand my body. You see, even though I had gone to the bathroom before leaving the airport, I realized I had to pee really bad after we were already en route to Hangzhou - and believe me, it was the worse I have ever had in my life. It's as if all my fluids had been reluctant to leave my system during the long flight but than all wanted to release as soon as I got to China. I kept quiet for a little bit but realized it was getting worse and we weren't half way there yet, and I wasn't seeing any rest stops or gas stations or restaurants. I was in agony. And it was a little embarrassing because I had just met these people in the packed van (and I found out later one of them was the head honcho of Babel) and of course, there was the the language barrier to complicate any polite explanation.
All social awkwardness aside, it was arguably the most painful moment of my life (I don't remember the birth canal all that well).
When they finally understood I couldn't possibly hold it, the driver stopped on the side of the freeway just past a tollbooth, and Helena asked me if this place (literally a ditch on the side of the road) was OK. At that point, I couldn't care less. Every part of my will was directed at accomplishing one single biological task, at whatever cost.
Unfortunately, I learned that this particular freeway spot was a common one for that activity - after I stepped in something horribly horrible. The only reason I give you this detail is to help you appreciate some of my mixed feelings during the rest of the voyage to Hangzhou: on the one hand, sublime, blissful biological relief - and on the other, horrible, uncomfortable social anxiety over my now smelly shoe (which in hindsight, probably no one noticed but myself).
Home Sweet Home
We got to Hangzhou past midnight, so I don't really have a "first impression" of the city, other than it was very dark, the university gate guard stopped and hassled our driver for awhile, everything was still dark, my shoes still smelled very bad from the freeway, still dark everywhere, and the dorm looked very questionable judging from the hallways, public bathrooms, and dim flourescent lighting. (Our hotel style rooms, however, were actually quite nice.) Despite this, since it was an adventure and I was in China, it was all good. My mind took copious mental notes of each detail of my surroundings, and I judged everything I saw as "oh, that's how it is in China." As if.
I had expected to sleep in, but instead I woke rather early, and entertained myself on Chinese sitcoms (brief sidenote: many TV shows here have Chinese subtitles because spoken Mandarin is not totally universal). I decided against wandering around by myself, so I looked out at the city below my window, watching the activity below, smiling, and saying to myself for the millionth and one time: "Wow! I'm in China!"
Around noon, Helena (and a some new faces) came to take us to lunch. (For the first couple of days, there always seemed to be a new group of faces, so we were quite confused as to who was affiliated with Babel and how - there was rarely a complete introduction and the language barrier prevented all but basic small talk...we just followed along with whoever showed up). They took us to a fancy shmancy restaurant, the kind where each table has its own separate room and 2-3 personal waiters on hand. There we met Michael and other Chinese administrators (I still don't know who half of the people were). Lunch was great. I turned down the cheaper-than-water beer for some Kekou Kela.
Two down, one to go
It was like we were playing Survivor. Elena left us at the airport, then Iwona left us right after the big lunch. Only Kim and I were left, and she too would be leaving soon.
Michael agreed to take the two of us around the city. He took us down Xixi Lu, past small shops and vendors, pointing out important stores and landmarks that I immediately forgot amid the sensory overload of it all. Soon we reached West Lake, and I remember that "Wow!" feeling as the stuffiness and bustle of the city gave way to the glimmering expanse of the West Lake. There really is something special about that lake.
Pictures taken that first day exploring Hangzhou.
Walking and talking with Michael was great. An international relations major in college, he is a treasure trove of insight, and his knowledge of Chinese history and culture filled in the wide gaps in my own.
The Stalker
Our conversations were soon interrupted. Within a couple of minutes of walking around the lake, a young Chinese student came up to me and asked if she could accompany our group around the lake. She wanted a chance to practice her English (and get to know the good-looking blond kid in our little group). I had no objections.
But then it was apparent that she had latched herself onto us. Escape was impossible. I really try to be a nice guy, really I do. But it was time for us to move on, and I was ready to take a break from her incessant small talk and enjoy the sights a bit more. My dropped hints did not seem to get through, and I was not about to be flat-out rude. Finally, when we had decided to hike up a nearby mountain, she had to leave us ("mountain" is a term used to describe the hills surrounding West Lake - they are high hills, but they ain't the Rockies by any stretch of the imagination). Before we could escape, however, she wanted my phone number. Thankfully I did not have one, so that was easy. I gave her my email address.
We hiked up the hill neighboring a beautiful pagoda, shown in the pictures above (it is over a thousand years old, I am told).
Before dinner with Michael that night, Kim and I braved the internet cafe by ourselves. My emails to the family and a few friends were not particularly revelatory, mostly full of vague excited expressions, such as this:
i'll have to save a lot of your questions for another email, this is just a quick stop to tell the folks i'm ok. but real quick: I LOVE IT HERE!! the people, the hills and lakes, the ghettos, the buildings, the food, and the smells. i'm already thinking 4 months will not be enough.(My apologies to everyone for the dearth of descriptiveness in these emails.)
The stalker story, however, is not complete. By the next day, I had recieved four emails from my stalker friend, and in two days I went on to receive three more emails and an e-card. One of last emails I ever received from her: "I should tell you that I'm always busy because so many boys in China are interested.One of my cousins are loving me badly.He is very handsome,bodybuilt,rich,good at talking,kind-hearted,so many advantedges.I can introduce him to you if you like soon in future" and ended with a request for "room number, mobile phone number and e-mail adress of your black friend if you have time to tell me". I considered the humor in passing my stalker off to him, but the poor girl needed to give it up, and besides, I like Michael too much to do such a thing to him.
Kim left that next day (after the two of us went through more medical tests in two hours than I have had in my entire life, including blood tests, ECG, chest x-ray, and an ultrasound - ultrasound? what do they think I am, pregnant?) leaving me alone on the fourth floor of the foreign student dorm of Zhejiang University.
In Conclusion
A lot of those first couple of days were spent just wandering around. I would come home exhausted.
I've been to enough new places (ie moving in high school, moving to college, moving mission areas), that is kind of fun to take in the moment of not having a clue where or what anything is - but knowing that soon it will all be familiar, all feel like home. I walk by cetain buildings now and still remember how it felt to first look upon them. I don't know if anyone even knows what I mean or am talking about.
I'll only get to experience China for the first time once - and I will always look back with fondness on those first few days in my new home.
If you'd made it to the end of this novelette, you're either (1) my mother or (2) you are a truely a true friend. Send me an email and I'll take you to lunch when I get back.