Summer in Shanghai! Not one of those books about the kids with the magic tree house- like Tuesday on the Titanic, Vacation on a Volcano or Night with the Ninjas (yes I looked them up)- but this is the life I am living. I am kind of living in a tree house and by that I mean I am on the 26th floor of an apartment building in Pudong. As much as I love my tree top home I am spending 5 days a week working/interning at a wedding planning company called Daoxila or in Chinese 到喜啦. It roughly translates to, the return of happiness or the return of love.
So I wake up every morning, wrapped in my pink Hello Kitty sheets, at 7:15 sharp and promptly press the snooze button resulting in my actual emergence from bed at around 7:22. I enjoy a breakfast of frosted flakes with imported New Zealand milk and am usually joined by my 妈妈 (my moms former student who resides in this tree house/ apartment- I call her mom) and my 弟弟 (my little brother or the sons classmate who is in Shanghai for the summer while the real son is interning in the US- he and I work at Daoxila together). And then we shoot down the elevator, dive into the sweltering heat, or if we are lucky, rain, and pop in a cab to go to the subway station.
13 stops and 2 line changes later we arrive at our final stop, Wu Jiao Chang, in Puxi. Only a 12-minute walk from the station to the office, which is always a race as we are always running late. The struggle to be prompt is almost as real as the fight stay dry. My umbrella is horribly broken (and yes I could buy another one but whenever this occurs to me it is when it is raining and they are super expensive) and when it’s not raining I am just sweating everywhere and all over my nice business dresses. Urgh, summer! My actual day-to-day work is less than thrilling and mainly consists of putting QR code stickers on coupon books while trying to decipher shanghainese, which they conveniently don’t teach us in school. But, the sticker peeling and placing I have become godly at, its good I am gaining SOME skills.
Have I seen the sun since I’ve arrived? No. Do I think it makes any sense to take a cab to a subway? Nope. Does the white haze that now engulfs my new world ever get to me and make me long for my home and sunsets and soup without chicken beaks in it? Sometimes. Is this what they call #cultureshock? I am thinking- yes, and if this isn’t it then I am terribly worried about when and what the actual shock will be like. The real shock I think is the people. Whenever I make a comment like: “there are just so many people.” Nods, wide eyes, and exclamations of agreement always follow shortly after, as if I have just said something profound. There are a lot of people… this shouldn’t be news to anyone, however when crammed into the back of a subway gasping for air while trying not to get stabbed in the foot by a 6 inch Prada dagger or “shoe,” it is perhaps a revelation. There just isn’t enough space for all of the heat or smells or designer logos (both fake and real). There is simply no room for all of the spitting, the chicken/fish/mystery meat bones, the buses, the cars, the crocs, and I fear there may not be much room for me.
My workload at Daoxila has actually increased in the past few days as the company has advanced to PHASE THREE of the Red Herring Top 100 Asian Companies. I now research past winners and say what their best qualities are/were. There may not be any elbow room but as long as there is a rolly chair and an outlet I will be of some help here. Or if not help then at least someone to assist in leading the after lunch dance class.
The Girl With No Tattoo 