"Organized chaos" is the name we’ve christened to the Chinese road systems.
It seems as though each and every person knows exactly where the people around them are going, what turn they are about to take, and when they are going to pop out of nowhere. Yet, one glance at the bustling streets and one is afraid to even step close to the curb. There are hundreds of vehicles – from busted bikes to crowded buses. And, I have never seen so many mopeds in my life. Often times, there is an entire family packed onto one hobbling moped that looks as though it has seen better days in Shanghai. The people’s faces are expressionless, and even the horns they use to honk at one another are more of a “I’m here” kind of honk juxtaposed to the “SCREW YOU BUDDY” one we American’s tend to overuse. It’s incredible to watch. Unless of course you’re sitting in the passenger seat of the bus, then, it’s just a heart attack away from seeing your life flash in front of your eyes.
If you have ever watched a hive of worker bees, you have witnessed a perfect microcosm of what China feels like. Everything and everyone has their place, their purpose – and whatever that may be, it is vital to the longevity of the system. From the fruit vendor in the ally way, to the student packing up his book bag – everyone understands their directive. It’s not to say there is no individuality, rather, that there is a uniqueness of each Telos, cloaked in the hum of a collective nature.
Collectivism isn’t the only difference us American students are experiencing here in Shanghai. I can tell you with the utmost honesty that there are exactly three things I would kill for right now. Johnny Brown’s fries, an AC unit, and functioning WiFi. Typical, typical, American.
This is where the dirty kicks in.
But seriously, what of these things do we take for granted? I know I’ll never taste American food the same way again. I never eat at McDonald’s back in the States, and yet I would gladly down a Big Mac right now for any price. I keep having this fantasy in my head where I’m still suffering from PTSD nightmares five years from now – the kind where I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat screaming “NO MORE DUMPLINGS!!!!” But then I just get up, go to breakfast, and enjoy my cold plate of fried noodles, fried rice, and yes, dumplings.
In all fairness, we were warned of this. The honeymoon stage is supposed to carry us through the initial culture shock, and where food is usually the first wake up call, certain luxuries our culture endows us with were next to follow. “Luxuries,” of course, being a term here meaning basic toilet paper, AC units, and internet connection. If I sound snarky, it’s only because I am currently running off five hours of sleep, heat exhaustion and dehydration. Consequently, after the part where China is “wow” and “exciting,” there is the stage we are now entering – “Down” time. It’s supposed to be where we suddenly take the adventure blinders off, shake the stardust off our shoulders, and realize, “Hey, you actually CAN’T live off Chinese food for a week,” or, “I actually DO miss wiping my butt with toilet paper.” Phenomenon, I know.
We, and by “we” I also mean I, have definitely hit that wall. And hard. As we sit here rubbing our foreheads wondering what hit us, it’s easy to get lost in the revolving stars around our heads. However, I have faith in this group of students that all is not lost. I can already see them starting to stand up and realize what we have going here. This is Shanghai, for goodness sakes, one of the oldest cities in the world, a rising powerhouse in the business industry, and a goldmine for journalists like me, itching for a story. What the hell is our problem? Bring on those dumplings.
The current situation is this: you have eight students, excluding myself, here in China - most of which all hail from other countries outside the U.S. to begin with. A lot of those students are well-traveled, tri-lingual, and come from financially-comfortable families. I’m trying to paint this picture for you because it’s important to know just where these students come from. They’re 20-something kids, looking for fun, looking for opportunity, and they’ve invested a whole lot of dough in the process. The honeymoon stage is over – the down stage has begun. It’s not a crime to be homesick, culture shocked, and even a little disappointed. In fact, it’s all part of the process, and I think it’d be a worse thing to just stay in the honeymoon stage the whole trip. In the meantime, I’m here to keep you updated on how that process goes along, and what sort of adventures it entails.
There’s a lot to be accomplished here in Shanghai, and we’ve only just begun.
Now, dumplings anyone?
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