A Bloody Long Day (Part One)
Saturday 1 October 2005 (Part One)
At this moment, I'm sitting in my shitty little seat with its well-worn cushion, in a plane due to land in Shanghai a little over 4 hours later. It's the first time I'm bringing my iBook on a trip, so I thought I might as well try out this on-the-go blogging Jingli seems so fond of.
I reached Changi Airport about 2 hours before my flight, and to my horror found a huge line snaking back and forth across the width of the terminal. I think it might be a precursor to what the trip's going to be like, since I am visiting during their "Golden Week" after all, when the entire fucking country and their extended families go on vacation all over the place.
It was also while standing in line that the realization came to me. I was going to spend 6 days with these people; these loud, obnoxious, and annoying people. And what was more pressing, I was going to be in close contact with them for 5 hours straight with no means of escape. Fine, I might be over-generalizing, but there's no doubt some of them are like that.
Once I got my passport checked and was allowed into the check-in area, I picked the counter with the shortest line. Unfortunately, knowing my luck, it was also the slowest-moving one. I could only look on in disgust as people from behind me joined other lines and were done before me, while at my counter, the bespectacled woman seemed to be in a world of her own, moving to an internal rhythm that was only slightly faster than that of a crippled snail.
The flight was uneventful, with minimal fuss from the passengers, which I was a little surprised by. The food was terrible (pretty much expected), but what sucked more was an air steward that wore a perpetual pissed-off look on his face and tossed the food sets down on the folding trays with disdain. Xuanfei, however, was not entirely surprised to hear of this later, her general comment about that particular airline being "it's crap". My biggest problem was that I couldn't really sleep and only managed to grab about an hour's worth, on and off, the whole night. That was to come back to haunt me later.
I walked into Shanghai's Pudong Airport at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. not knowing what to expect. I certainly didn't expect to find a nice, clean and modern-looking airport, that's for sure. I last visited China 11 years ago, and so my expectations were all from that time, which I admit was arrogant of me.
The architecture too, was kind of interesting, with metal structures sticking down from the ceiling on the top floor (departures), looking for all the world like a shower of arrows about to pierce unsuspecting tourists.
Like I said, I was greatly pleased by the airport, and it was almost enough to make me think that this could be a great place to stay. However, one step out of the terminal, and I was hit by the unmistakable blend of exhaust fumes, bad air and unidentifiable stenches that was characteristic of city air in China. And of course I changed my mind right back.
As her place was completely jam-packed with her colleagues (bastards, depriving me of free accommodation!), she had to put me up at a motel - which was, also surprisingly, a very decent one. Besides the fact that the bathroom was oversized in comparison to the bedroom, that is. Seriously, the living quarters were not much larger than the large single bed that lay in the middle of the room, but the bathroom was at least two-thirds that size.
Anyway, we headed off to Zhongshan Park (中山公園), where I was to learn that parks are used very differently in China than in most places. Here, a park played a substantial role in the community. It was a meeting place, a place of activity for old and young alike. People gather to ballroom-dance, practice their taiji, or even test out their newfound English skills on each other.
That day, October 1, was China's National Day, and hence the crowd at the park was larger than ever. There were stages erected, and lots of dance, song, and other cultural performances. In other areas of the park, people went on doing their taiji exercises, danced, flew kites, played badminton, etc. Tons of sprightly old folks around, taking part in all these activities and more. Makes me wonder what's wrong with the rest of the old people in the world.
Back in her apartment, which was on the 28th floor of a nice apartment building, we saw someone set off firecrackers in the streets below in celebration. At least, I thought it was the street. Upon closer examination of the picture, I realized someone in another apartment building actually stuck firecrackers out their window and set them off.
Lunch followed, and I shall stop this post here, at the mid-point. Hey, it was a bloody long day, OK?
Oh, and one more thing about China before I go: People smoke everywhere. And I mean everywhere. It's harder to find a non-smoking restaurant than a smoking one, there were ashtrays everywhere, people lit up in lines, at national monuments, you get the drift. In short, it seemed like a paradise for me. It may sound sad, but being able to smoke in my own room is a luxury I had yet to experience prior to this. But as anyone can attest, you can have too much of a good thing. By the end of the first day, I'd smoked so much I didn't want to see another cigarette for a while. Or maybe till the next day.
At this moment, I'm sitting in my shitty little seat with its well-worn cushion, in a plane due to land in Shanghai a little over 4 hours later. It's the first time I'm bringing my iBook on a trip, so I thought I might as well try out this on-the-go blogging Jingli seems so fond of.
I reached Changi Airport about 2 hours before my flight, and to my horror found a huge line snaking back and forth across the width of the terminal. I think it might be a precursor to what the trip's going to be like, since I am visiting during their "Golden Week" after all, when the entire fucking country and their extended families go on vacation all over the place.
It was also while standing in line that the realization came to me. I was going to spend 6 days with these people; these loud, obnoxious, and annoying people. And what was more pressing, I was going to be in close contact with them for 5 hours straight with no means of escape. Fine, I might be over-generalizing, but there's no doubt some of them are like that.
Once I got my passport checked and was allowed into the check-in area, I picked the counter with the shortest line. Unfortunately, knowing my luck, it was also the slowest-moving one. I could only look on in disgust as people from behind me joined other lines and were done before me, while at my counter, the bespectacled woman seemed to be in a world of her own, moving to an internal rhythm that was only slightly faster than that of a crippled snail.
The flight was uneventful, with minimal fuss from the passengers, which I was a little surprised by. The food was terrible (pretty much expected), but what sucked more was an air steward that wore a perpetual pissed-off look on his face and tossed the food sets down on the folding trays with disdain. Xuanfei, however, was not entirely surprised to hear of this later, her general comment about that particular airline being "it's crap". My biggest problem was that I couldn't really sleep and only managed to grab about an hour's worth, on and off, the whole night. That was to come back to haunt me later.
I walked into Shanghai's Pudong Airport at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. not knowing what to expect. I certainly didn't expect to find a nice, clean and modern-looking airport, that's for sure. I last visited China 11 years ago, and so my expectations were all from that time, which I admit was arrogant of me.
The architecture too, was kind of interesting, with metal structures sticking down from the ceiling on the top floor (departures), looking for all the world like a shower of arrows about to pierce unsuspecting tourists.
Like I said, I was greatly pleased by the airport, and it was almost enough to make me think that this could be a great place to stay. However, one step out of the terminal, and I was hit by the unmistakable blend of exhaust fumes, bad air and unidentifiable stenches that was characteristic of city air in China. And of course I changed my mind right back.
As her place was completely jam-packed with her colleagues (bastards, depriving me of free accommodation!), she had to put me up at a motel - which was, also surprisingly, a very decent one. Besides the fact that the bathroom was oversized in comparison to the bedroom, that is. Seriously, the living quarters were not much larger than the large single bed that lay in the middle of the room, but the bathroom was at least two-thirds that size.
Anyway, we headed off to Zhongshan Park (中山公園), where I was to learn that parks are used very differently in China than in most places. Here, a park played a substantial role in the community. It was a meeting place, a place of activity for old and young alike. People gather to ballroom-dance, practice their taiji, or even test out their newfound English skills on each other.
That day, October 1, was China's National Day, and hence the crowd at the park was larger than ever. There were stages erected, and lots of dance, song, and other cultural performances. In other areas of the park, people went on doing their taiji exercises, danced, flew kites, played badminton, etc. Tons of sprightly old folks around, taking part in all these activities and more. Makes me wonder what's wrong with the rest of the old people in the world.
Back in her apartment, which was on the 28th floor of a nice apartment building, we saw someone set off firecrackers in the streets below in celebration. At least, I thought it was the street. Upon closer examination of the picture, I realized someone in another apartment building actually stuck firecrackers out their window and set them off.
Lunch followed, and I shall stop this post here, at the mid-point. Hey, it was a bloody long day, OK?
Oh, and one more thing about China before I go: People smoke everywhere. And I mean everywhere. It's harder to find a non-smoking restaurant than a smoking one, there were ashtrays everywhere, people lit up in lines, at national monuments, you get the drift. In short, it seemed like a paradise for me. It may sound sad, but being able to smoke in my own room is a luxury I had yet to experience prior to this. But as anyone can attest, you can have too much of a good thing. By the end of the first day, I'd smoked so much I didn't want to see another cigarette for a while. Or maybe till the next day.
posted by cinewhore @ 12:42 PM
0 mindfucks
0 Comments:
gimme some mindfuckery
<< Home