seeing shanghai

*post from 3/27/2013. had to switch to tumblr due to issues w/old blogspot address…

So far as I can tell, Shanghai is a city of gray. Gray streets, gray  buildings, gray skies. Not even a glimpse of green to be found anywhere. Granted, all I’ve seen so far is about a block, as our flat is across (a busy highway) from the CDC.

Yesterday’s main task of securing the apartment proved to be highly entertaining. We showed up to the place and met three real estate agents, who, with their black leather, constant pecking at smartphones and strident tones seemed like something out of the Chinese version of “The Wire.” Getting the apartment required two hours of negotiations, lots of yelling (from what I could tell), angered phone calls to the landlord and insults. We were told that we were stingy, when we tried to bring the price down, and lazy, when we said the apartment was dirty.

As laowai (outsider) and especially as one who doesn’t speak or understand the language, I am more or less exempt from these wheeling and dealing. Most of the time, I just look on bemusedly as I can’t even tell from their wild gestures and laughter whether they are pissed or making pleasantries.

In some ways, I relish being an outsider. My silence opens up a whole world, often unnoticed during conversations, when I am so concerned with what someone else is saying, or what I might say next. I notice the mottled grey-green of the Platane trees lining the streets, the smell of chou dofu (stinky tofu) from the wizened old street vendor, the dumpling-cheeked child. I revel in the luxury of these details, and wish I could carry this awareness with me when I am back in the land of English.

As for the apartment, we’ve settled in quite nicely. After hiring an ayi (housekeeper) at the going rate of 20RMB/hour ($3.50), the place has been cleaned up, we have fresh sheets on the beds, and enough cooking gear to make soup, stir-fry and coffee. What more could a girl ask for? 

don't worry, be jewish!

is a slogan I saw on a t-shirt at the beach today- my second favorite next to a slight twist on the epic rock tee, "Guns & Moses." Tel Aviv so far has been kind to me: a bleached city full of sun and sand and friends. As always, I am endlessly amused by the tiny details of a foreign land:  babies naked on the beach, strange signs warning "danger of death!" whose Hebrew explanations I cannot understand, and impassioned elderly women arguing loudly on the sidewalk. On the promenade, I take a deep breathe and inhale the at-once familiar and exotic smell of sunscreen, sweat, and the blooms of the purple Sigalon trees. I'm a little in love with the novelty of it all. And tonight promises to be wonderful: meeting up with an old friend from China, hopefully to have some hummus and falafel (although I have been warned not to eat it, given that the American version will be forever ruined).

So, after two years of perpetual anxiety, so begins a month in which my only goal is to stop worrying...and be Jewish. I think am up for the challenge.

a new and splendid life, take 5

And so begins my new and splendid life, parts 4 and 5. Moved down to North Carolina this past week and, in typical haphazard fashion, am now in the airport awaiting my flight to Israel. Although I'm really bummed to leave all my friends in New Haven, honestly, I couldn't be happier about being in North Carolina. The last two years have been too cold for me, in every sense of the word. I need a little light in my life...which I got yesterday in the form of fireflies. Fireflies! I was so happy to see them. Those tiny little bugs always signaled the beginning of summer when I was a kid, but I haven't seen them since leaving Ohio. I couldn't help myself; I just started giggling spontaneously. I guess that's the good part about living alone; no one knows when you're acting like a weird. (Except Victor. Always watching, always judging).

Now, after 12 hours in the Atlanta airport, I'm about to catch a standby flight to Tel Aviv. My wise and ever-resourceful friend Max helped hook me up with a sweet standby gig, but it means that I arrived in Atlanta at 7am this morning. So far I've taken 2 naps, visited McDonald's twice (gotta keep a nutritional epidemiologist in business, y'all), and talked to a couple of army guys who are deploying to Afghanistan today. I feel gross and homeless, but talking to a couple of men my age who are about to leave for a year puts things in perspective awfully quickly. A timely reminder, given it's Memorial Day.

Quick note to anyone stuck in an airport for long periods of time: search out the chairs without armrests. They make nearly perfect beds! In the ATL airport: Gate E12. Glorious. And on that note...

Bon Voyage!