Shanghai'd

It's our last day in Shanghai, and although outside is rainy and foggy, our dimsum plans may be foiled by a stomach bug that first afflicted me, and now Tim. We just want to stay home on our BRATT diet, and finish watching our DVD collection, which was mostly ransacked yesterday during our estate giveaway.

The past days have been filled with packing, meals, tearful goodbyes, and that nagging question - are we doing the right thing? Right now, those of you at home are saying "yes!", while our Shanghai friends are slowly shaking their heads and wondering "why would they want to go?". In the months leading up to our departure, we have found it difficult to explain our reasons for wanting to leave to those expats who are staying on. It is true - we have had a great situation here. Great friends; wonderful career advancement and opportunity; exciting metropolitan living; beautiful, comfortable apartment; and three years of experience which have made living somewhere different, well, not so dauntingly different anymore.

Maybe it's that last point. I can't argue, who would leave for the other reasons? But for us, I don't think Shanghai is the place we need to get comfortable in. For three years, we have lived without access to the great outdoors. There is no open, public space; the air quality is questionable at best. Although I can see for miles from our 25 story balcony sometimes (today definitely NOT), claustrophobia has set in. I fantasize about pushing up a rise on my road bike in the hill country under bluebonnet skies with only the sound of cicadas in my ears. Diving into Barton Springs on one of those Sunday afternoons. Saturday morning circling Town Lake with friends, or just exchanging smiles with strangers. Unrealistically idyllic? Probably.

For me, there is also the luring attractiveness of change. I thrive on it. It was probably the main reason I wanted to come to China in the first place. Something different, totally different. Challenging, stressful, exciting, and unknown - and my infatuation with change gave me the energy to face everything head on, mostly with a smile, and always with determination. So now that the different is not so different, I guess I am feeling a little... bored? No, maybe just jaded.

jaded, adj.

1. Worn out, wearied, or lacking enthusiasm; exhausted.
2. Cynically insensitive; made callous by experience.

I am again looking forward to the upcoming change. And trying my best to prepare for the reverse shock of going somewhere different, but not new. And I am wondering what to do about this blog. Let it die tomorrow? Or continue to chronicle the after effects of being Shanghai'd? I fear the latter would turn into a whine-fest and lead to a slow, bleeding, painful death of this journal. But can our Shanghai experience end tomorrow, when we get on our flight? I suppose that once we are in the air, we will have to face the fact that it will really be over.

Today, Tim and I took our last ride to work in Shanghai. On our bikes and not in a taxi! We were quiet as we rode along the creek path, past the man with his 4-pole bamboo fishing net, past the guards to the park who would never need to try and chase us out again, as we were passed by a government-plated, tint windowed, black Mercedes. The cool autumn air pinked our cheeks, while the sun shone through enough haze to remind us we were in Shanghai. I was riding my Giant cruiser with the basket on front and held onto Tim's backpack to keep up to his single speed. The mood was somber as we struggled with mixed feelings, exhaustion, and possible oncoming colds. We parked the bikes at NI, and I handed over the keys to Tim. He had sold them to work colleagues.

Our house now has, if you can believe it, zero bikes. Don't worry, there are still 4 in Austin.

Today, as the movers were packing our boxes and getting them ready for the slow boat from China to Austin, I was staring out the window contemplating all the things I won't do/won't get to/won't have to do once we move home.

1. Stare out a 25 story window. I doubt I will live in a 25 story building in Austin. Although now it is possible.
2. (related) Check the air quality by staring out a 25 story window and checking how far you can see.
3. (related) Take an elevator. Every day.
4. Take a taxi to work. Woohoo!
5. Speak Chinese. Every day. As much as I want it to, I know it won't happen.
6. Leave my dishes in the sink/laundry on the floor/bed unmade. Who am I kidding... I won't do this?
7. Dream about Mexican food, unrealized.
8. Eat lunch for $2.
9. Drink exclusively bottled water. I am really looking forward to the Austin tap. Fluoride, bring it on!
10. Do laundry outside. I am going to miss our little service balcony. So convenient...
11. Speak our secret language, English! Now it will become Chinese.

Incomplete list, I am sure. But on day 6 of our countdown, these are the things that occured to me.

In case you hadn't already noticed from our recent adventures or previous posts, I am a huge bicycle fan. If it has two wheels and is human-powered, I'm sold. This (at times unhealthy) fascination with the bicycle led to a situation ealier this year where Laurel and I owned no less than nine bikes (and zero cars) between the two of us. We have since started divesting our collection: Laurel sold her trusty Giant mountain bike to Dipak, one of the Nepalese sherpas on our Tibet trip. I have fixed up and given away to friends a few beaters that had been left to die a dusty, boring life in an apartment complex underground garage. Today I sold our two cruisers to colleagues at work. It's amazing they managed to avoid the thieves, trucks and rust of Shanghai long enough to be sold back at the end of our three years.

But the bike count is not entirely decreasing. Ever since coming to China I have been obsessed with the iconic all-steel bikes of China's post revolutionary era. These are the machines that powered millions of workers to and from the factory every day for a lifetime. Along with a watch and a sewing machine, a Flying Pigeon bike was one of the "must-haves" for every citizen. I don't wear a watch, and can't sew, so my only chance to redeem some communist credibility was to buy a Pigeon. I can't wait to show all those lame fixies in Austin what a bike with real style looks like.

I love my food. Although maybe this picture Tim lovingly reminded me of last night suggests there were times in my life when I loved it more, that was just beer, and my love of food has been fueled by the international offerings in Shanghai these past few years, and now I am a self-proclaimed foodie. I love to go out to eat, but I especially enjoy cooking for myself and Tim, and especially enjoy inviting friends over for dinner.

A recent visitor to Shanghai asked how living here has changed the way we eat. Only now, as we are heading home, do I realize the changes we have made. Here are some of changes we have made I plan to take back to Austin with us:

• Starting from Scratch. In the US, we are so used to the conveniences of prepackaged, processed food. If you think about it, processed only means that we did something to it after we grew it and harvested it, so pretty much everything in a can, bag, box or frozen counts as processed food. After moving to Shanghai, I found the cost and availability of processed food to be a major deterrent in cooking in the ways I was used to. Whereas we used to buy bottled tomato sauce at home, I found myself without even canned tomatoes to make it from "scratch". When we wanted spaghetti, I had to start with fresh tomatoes. No canned beans, Jiffy mix, jam, Campbell's soup, dressing packets, gravy starter, nothing that I grew up with. Luckily I had the time and the tutelage of my favorite cookbook Laurel's Kitchen (Thank you Dave!) to start from fresh and really learn how to cook. I find it relaxing to spend a Sunday in front of the stove, simmering and chopping.
• Smaller Portions. My stoneware dinner plates at home are 12" in diameter. I have one size bowl - big. Even my forks and knives are huge. When I bought dishes at our local grocery store our first week in China, I left with 6" saucers and rice bowls. We have been eating off them for the past 3 years. I think it is easier to clear your plate than get up for seconds. Although our chipped, pastel blue, fish design dinnerware won't make the trip home, I am thinking of heading out to the restaurant supply store to pick up some Chinese-y rice bowls to put in our shipment home.
• Reduced intake of Meat and Dairy. After some early attempts at cooking meat, the pork poisoning, fears about the lack of hormone control for livestock, and reading Michael Pollan's book, Tim and I drastically reduced our consumption of all animal products in China, way before the whole melamine thing. Hopefully this means we avoided kidney stones and other long-term diseases. But I also think it has made us healthier in general. I am at least going to seek out grass-fed, non-GMO, organic, hormone free products at home.
• Seasonal and Local. In China, there is no choice but to eat what is in season. After reading Barbara Kingsolver's book, I became even more aware of our offerings and choices, and was glad to note that not everything is available all the time. We looked forward to and savored the fruit seasons, greens season and the nightshade season (especially those tomatoes!). We even got into a CSA for a while, although due to our insane travel schedule we had to cancel. Good news is I am committed to carrying this on at home, I made it off the waiting list, onto the share holder list of this popular Austin CSA! First pick-up is 12/6.

Foodie that I am, I am still counting down the meals (29!) until we are back in the land of chips and salsa. I am looking forward to a few simmering Sundays in my new kitchen* as well.

*Location TBD, but if you know someone with a Hyde Park house/duplex for rent, please send us a note. We are looking for 3-2 BR, 1-2 BA with December/January move in.

To all our visitors we have had in China,

As you know, three years have gone by unbelievably fast and Tim and I are planning to leave Shanghai and move back to Austin in less than two weeks. We wanted to thank you for coming to visit us over here. We understand it is a challenge to get on a plane to a country you have only heard of at the end of "Made in", where you don't speak the language, and spend your hard earned vacation time there. We appreciated your gifts from home, and your company and conversation while you were here.

But most of all, we loved seeing the country we came to call home through your eyes. It offered a fun and unique perspective on places that we had overlooked or came to know as commonplace. You reminded us of the rich culture here, and how lucky we were to be living in the fastest growing place on earth. The part I enjoyed most was hearing your travel stories (you were all so adventurous!), and being amazed how two people could have a completely different experience in the exact same place.

Some memories...Jay and Michelle tired us out walking Shanghai to death...Kim and Steve thoroughly enjoyed having a cup of tea and got us a sweet hangout in the Honeymoon sweet on the cruise ship...Shawn was our visitor who taught us Chinese...Angel braved the winter, and met us on a beachfront balcony in Hainan with a Pina Colada...Will was the village idiot on his trip with Tim to Zhouzhaigou...Mom and Dad, you were so open minded and brave, I gained a whole new level of respect...Mariel exposed a gift for language and learned more Chinese in 4 weeks than I ever thought possible...Linda and Wally, we motored down the Li River with cold ones and rode the rice terraces together (go Linda!)...Sam, Elaine, and Shannon, we had a blast (and a leg-blasting workout!) hiking the Great Wall...Katie proved getting a PhD also allowed for some sweet vacations...Mike Jablin showed us the Great Wall hike was nothing, try Hua Shan...and Joe, Irene and Audrey showed us China through a 2-year-old's eyes, Irene:"And why is the Chinese flag red?" Audrey:"It represents the revolution!"

Thank you all so much, we truly enjoyed sharing our China experience with you. Good luck in your future travels!

Love,
Laurel and Tim

For a while there, we never thought we were going to make it to Lhasa at all given our visa troubles, but eventually we succeeded. Man, was it worth it. Lhasa is an incredible city: part traditional Tibetan village, part Chinese metropolis. There was an unmistakeable Chinese military presence everywhere, but surprisingly few tourists, either Chinese or foreigners. The paranoid Tibet Travel Permit process for foreigners undoubtedly has something to do with that, and I think many people are still (rightfully)hesitant to invest vacation time and money into such a schizophrenic destination (we want foreign investment and tourism ... no, we want isolation and privacy).

I digress. Lhasa is a beautiful, photogenic city that I can only attempt to do justice with these photos.

... comes the first (of several) Tibet bike trip photo sets. I've decided to post these piecemeal in a few categories in an attempt to keep each group to a dozen or fewer choice photos. The first set is shots from the actual ride. I'll post more in the coming days of the interesting people we met and some of the magnificent scenery encountered. It was quite a challenge to narrow the 7GB of photos I took over 4 weeks down to the best few, but hopefully you appreciate the selectivity.

The picture above is the requisite pre-trip group photo in front of the Potala Palace, the traditional residence of the Dalai Lama in Lhasa. This is where we zero'd our odometers and embarked on the 1100 km journey that lay ahead. If you look closely, you'll notice the guy second from the left has a different looking bike than everyone else. More on him later.

See more Tibet bike trip pictures on my Flickr page.

Tim and I seem to have a fascination with conquering the places we visit. We discussed this as we were climbing up the jungle track to the top of Penang Hill last weekend in Penang. The track was muddy and packed in by dense tropical growth on both sides. We were passed twice by downhill bikers in full face covering helmets. We saw a millipede that was easily 8 inches long and had a trillion legs. Having been warned about the monkeys, I was glad when we didn't run into any. Anyway, at 890m above sea level, Penang Hill is the highest point in Penang. Reaching the top, we got a stunning view of the east coast of the island, which was densely populated in areas and jungle hills in other, and over to the mainland.

Maybe it is this perspective that drives us UP everywhere we go. Victoria Peak in Hong Kong, the massive Tai 大 in Kyoto, Qi Xing Feng in Taipei, Tongariro Pass in New Zealand, and of course all the passes on the way to Everest Base Camp in Tibet. Not all of them are the highest point around, but they all offer fantastic views and a sense of accomplishment. Heading back down the other side, wind rushing by if you are on a bike or trolley, we feel we left our flag at the top.

Having conquered Penang, we hitched a ride down in the bed of a strange Mitsubishi car-truck. The wind rushed by, and we finally felt we had the perspective to know what this island was all about.

Still on my countdown. And this time counting food.

Last weekend we spent 10 (Tim - 13) meals in Penang, Malaysia, at least the rival food capital of Asia, if not the world. A mixture of Thai, Chinese, Indian, Malay with a sprinkling of British influence, to experience the food is why people go to Penang. Or to open a manufacturing facility. Last weekend, we got a chance to experience the former. Most of Penang's eateries are absolutely no-frills. We had Penang's famous laksa and Hoikken Mee in a tented open air eatery with clusters of stalls that sell hawker food from 10am till late at night. We sat on plastic chairs and ate incredibly fresh authentic Thai food off plastic plates in a dilapitated colonial mansion down a quiet lane. We had South Indian food served on Banana leaves where most of the diners scooped the spicy-sour curry into their rice with their (right) hand. A local expat explained that if an eatery opens and the food is no good, it is gone in a month. On the other end of the spectrum, breakfast at our hotel was past elaborate, and each morning I would load up my plate with fresh local fruit with a side of walnuts and goat cheese.

Just when it is time to go on a diet, Tim reminded me yesterday that we have 42 meals left in Shanghai. Although I have spent the better part of 3 years with a hankering for Matt's El Rancho's chili relleno, I am really going to miss the food of Shanghai. Not just the restaurant food, where we eat family style and always finish it with soup. But also the produce, especially the fruit, and the local seasonal eating we participate in. Yesterday lunch, Tim and I went to the Taiwanese restaurant across from the office and each had a huge bowl of noodles with flavorful broth. Last night I cooked, but made a stop at the local fruit stand and bought one of the fruits we are definitely going to miss: hamigua. It is a cross between a cantelope (sweet) and a honeydew (crisp) melon and is the shape of a large football. Today, I convinced my lunchtime girlfriends to go out for hotpot, and we spent an hour cooking lamb, mushrooms, tofu and all the veggies I can't get at home in a spicy, salty soup.

38 meals to go (I really shouldn't be counting breakfast, we always eat at home!)... For the meals out, I should take some pictures for you. :-)

Every seasoned traveler has been there before. The tom yam soup and chicken curry lunch from the street side hawker stall is serving unmistakable notice somewhere deep inside your small intestine that you need to get yourself to a toilet ASAP. Your hostel is an impossibly bumpy 20 minute bus ride away and there is no 5-star hotel lobby bathroom reprieve in this neighborhood of $1.20 local lunch specials. What's a regrettably adventurous globetrotter to do?

You could be fortunate enough to find yourself in Singapore, but more likely your are in any of the other countries in southeast Asia not known for their cane-enforced sanitation. One of those countries where toilet paper is a luxury not often afforded the public stall. It is with good reason that Indian's strictly eat with their right hand, you know.

In my personal travels, I have had the pleasurable opportunity to experience just about every style and grade of public toilet in Asia. From the Cambodian open trough to the time-honored Chinese squatter. In fact, I thought I had seen them all. That is until last week's trip to Malaysia.

The Malaysians have come up with what I consider the ultimate solution to a messy problem: a squat toilet with attached water hose bidet. The brilliance of this WC ingenuity is that it combines the best features of many world styles into one: squat toilet means no undesirable cheek-to-seat contact is made; hose bidet obviates the need to carry around your own tissues everywhere you go, and hence no unsightly 3rd-world sewer clogging tp, either. It's easy for you and easy on the environment too.

So next time the "hot pot trot" strikes unexpectedly, I hope you find yourself lucky enough to be on Malaysian soil. If not, remember, save the right hand for the roti.

Picture of Malaysian squat toilet from AmaylaMalaysia's Flickr page

Counting Down.

Our flight is almost exactly 21 days from right now, and the past week went by in a flurry of getting sick and recovering, unpacking from Tibet (including unpacking the 7G of pictures Tim took - posted soon), Halloween and some social activities. I expect the next few weeks to be equally busy, hopefully not with getting sick, but definitely with packing and social activities.

First off, some comments about Halloween. We had a party at work, where I witnessed 150 Chinese colleagues' first Halloween . Everyone was really excited, it was a very fun day. Everyone dressed up, with probably 25% dressing as pirates. I went as bamboo, a complement's to my friend's panda suit, but was asked if I was a green pirate (must have been the bandana). I met one pirate who upon seeing me held up his plastic right hand and exclaimed, "I'm a hooker!". I tried to explain the difference between that and Capatin Hook, but it wasn't well understood (perhaps I wasn't being graphic enough), and he still insisted on his self-title. We had trick or treating, pumpkin carving and a party. That night, Tim and I went to a party with some US hiphop music and we danced (Tim went as a guy from the ipod commercial), which was the first exercise I'd had since riding in Tibet.

We are thinking about getting our stuff packed up. Some of the electronics are helping themselves out the door. Our soymilk machine spewed grey electrical smoke before blowing a fuse and being relegated to the trash. I murdered my laptop. I swear the oven is on its way out the door; my recent banana bread, corn bread and cookies were terrible (maybe its because I just can't bake... but we can blame it on the oven). And my straightening iron didn't seem as hot as I remember it. Well, that's OK - 220V electronics won't be of too much use at home.

This week I expect to fly by. We are going to see Kanye West tonight, tomorrow is Tim's birthday and we are going out of town for a long weekend tacked onto the end of a business trip for Tim. I guess we will start packing next week...

I am still feeling really strange about leaving. Today, I ran into someone from the US office who was one of the first people I worked with in Shanghai. He was reminiscing on that time, and recalled the "fire and passion" I had for China and learning the language and the culture. And as I stood there, telling him how I was ready to pack it up (I am), I got this weird feeing of somehow being jaded. I have a bit of a lame duck feeling at work, having transitioned many responsibilities to my replacement. But under all that is the excitement about going home, and starting a new job (still at AMD for me). I guess that is what they call bitter-sweet. :-)