Shanghai trip travel stories, continued
Once in Shanghai, Clara and I had to navigate the metro system and travel for an hour and a half to get out to the Pudong Airport, which is on the eastern side of the city, when we had come into the bus station in the southwest area.
Subway riding always presents an element of excitement, in that you never know who you might meet or observe or share encounters with along the way. Today just happened to be an exceptional story to the more common, humdrum experiences.
A cha cha dancer from South Malaysia approached us on the Shanghai metro and began practicing English with us. His opener/pick up line was (to me), "You look like Cinderella," and (to Clara), "and you look like Snow White." In response to his haring that he is a cha cha dancer, I told him I was a ballet dancer, and then he asked Clara what she danced, and she said tap. Then he said, "Have a good day in Shanghai," and kissed me on the cheek. Three times. Wet ones. I wanted to sanitize my slobbered-on cheeks. So bad.
Clara ducked out and was practically in the lap of the Chinese woman next to her. We thought the conversation might have ended. But no. Then he said to me, "My dance teacher tell me I have cheeks like Donald Duck and she touch my cheeks (demonstrating and grabbing for my hand)." Clara and I immediately shuffled down the train car a ways to "find some open seats." Clara pulled her hood over her head to cover her cheeks.
Unfortunately, he followed us, and then proceeded to take photographs of both of us on his ancient Kodak camera before carrying out a very lengthy set of repeated goodbyes and telling us a few more times how his dance teacher is a queen and calls him Donald Duck when she touches his cheeks, and he washes her feet. In reply, Clara commented, "It sounds like you have a really personal relationship with your dance teacher." He proceeded to ask Clara if she wanted to be his new dance teacher and touch his cheeks (to which Clara said, "No, that's weird."), before he finally bid us ado one last time and walked away from us, down the metro train. We could only hope he actually exited the train. We were so slaphappy (from the all-nighter and pure comic nature of the encounter), and peeled over in laughter. And yes, I whipped out my hand sanitizer and did sanitize my entire face, which by that point, was probably crawling in his heebie-jeebies.
It's not that I have never had encounters similar to this one before. I may not have documented them, but I have definitely had strangers in parks, on public transportation, at beaches or festivals, and even during parent teacher conferences, approach me and begin talking very candidly about my physical features and notable cultural differences. Sometimes I get a candy or a free gift. Other times just some really nice, or just plain strange compliments.
Contrary to the metro ride to the airport with Clara, my metro ride solo after dropping her off, to the train station in order to get back to Ningbo, was quite pleasant. I met a Mexican man who lives in France and is here in Shanghai on business for a food/service industry trade show/conference. We enjoyed a nice, normal chat for about a half hour before he left to meet his couch surfing host.
Once in the train station, I had an hour to kill so I explored the limited vendors and shopping options. I went to get tea out of a vending machine, and couldn't figure out how to retrieve my bottle from the machine, once I had paid and it had been dispensed. Like an idiot from another era, I had to have a young man show me how to fish it out of the machine. Just goes to show how often I ever buy things from vending machines!
I'm on my way back home to Ningbo, with the rest of this bullet train ride and a taxi ride back home to the Beilun district. Who knows what could happen...
(Not to worry "The Bob Duncan"... I totally had that whole creeper on the metro situation under control. No, we were not in danger of having our organs harvested, getting "taken," or needing to have our kneecaps sent back to you. Besides, no offense to your body, I don't think our 5'4" bodies' kneecaps would fit yours.)
Once in Shanghai, Clara and I had to navigate the metro system and travel for an hour and a half to get out to the Pudong Airport, which is on the eastern side of the city, when we had come into the bus station in the southwest area.
Subway riding always presents an element of excitement, in that you never know who you might meet or observe or share encounters with along the way. Today just happened to be an exceptional story to the more common, humdrum experiences.
A cha cha dancer from South Malaysia approached us on the Shanghai metro and began practicing English with us. His opener/pick up line was (to me), "You look like Cinderella," and (to Clara), "and you look like Snow White." In response to his haring that he is a cha cha dancer, I told him I was a ballet dancer, and then he asked Clara what she danced, and she said tap. Then he said, "Have a good day in Shanghai," and kissed me on the cheek. Three times. Wet ones. I wanted to sanitize my slobbered-on cheeks. So bad.
Clara ducked out and was practically in the lap of the Chinese woman next to her. We thought the conversation might have ended. But no. Then he said to me, "My dance teacher tell me I have cheeks like Donald Duck and she touch my cheeks (demonstrating and grabbing for my hand)." Clara and I immediately shuffled down the train car a ways to "find some open seats." Clara pulled her hood over her head to cover her cheeks.
Unfortunately, he followed us, and then proceeded to take photographs of both of us on his ancient Kodak camera before carrying out a very lengthy set of repeated goodbyes and telling us a few more times how his dance teacher is a queen and calls him Donald Duck when she touches his cheeks, and he washes her feet. In reply, Clara commented, "It sounds like you have a really personal relationship with your dance teacher." He proceeded to ask Clara if she wanted to be his new dance teacher and touch his cheeks (to which Clara said, "No, that's weird."), before he finally bid us ado one last time and walked away from us, down the metro train. We could only hope he actually exited the train. We were so slaphappy (from the all-nighter and pure comic nature of the encounter), and peeled over in laughter. And yes, I whipped out my hand sanitizer and did sanitize my entire face, which by that point, was probably crawling in his heebie-jeebies.
It's not that I have never had encounters similar to this one before. I may not have documented them, but I have definitely had strangers in parks, on public transportation, at beaches or festivals, and even during parent teacher conferences, approach me and begin talking very candidly about my physical features and notable cultural differences. Sometimes I get a candy or a free gift. Other times just some really nice, or just plain strange compliments.
Contrary to the metro ride to the airport with Clara, my metro ride solo after dropping her off, to the train station in order to get back to Ningbo, was quite pleasant. I met a Mexican man who lives in France and is here in Shanghai on business for a food/service industry trade show/conference. We enjoyed a nice, normal chat for about a half hour before he left to meet his couch surfing host.
Once in the train station, I had an hour to kill so I explored the limited vendors and shopping options. I went to get tea out of a vending machine, and couldn't figure out how to retrieve my bottle from the machine, once I had paid and it had been dispensed. Like an idiot from another era, I had to have a young man show me how to fish it out of the machine. Just goes to show how often I ever buy things from vending machines!
I'm on my way back home to Ningbo, with the rest of this bullet train ride and a taxi ride back home to the Beilun district. Who knows what could happen...
(Not to worry "The Bob Duncan"... I totally had that whole creeper on the metro situation under control. No, we were not in danger of having our organs harvested, getting "taken," or needing to have our kneecaps sent back to you. Besides, no offense to your body, I don't think our 5'4" bodies' kneecaps would fit yours.)
So did you get in some spanish time with the old man on the metro? And what is a couch surfing host?
ReplyDeleteI did speak Spanish, indeed. He wasn't an old man. He was in his early 30s and he was in Shanghai on business. It was his second time. We spoke in Spanish and in English too.
DeleteCouch surfing is... well, check it out: http://www.couchsurfing.org
(Basically you can register to open your house to travelers from all over the world. It's like staying at a "friend's" house free of charge. Only you don't necessarily know the person. It's a safe network of getting to know people and stay places for free. When you register on the website, you can indicate what you have to offer the hosts, in exchange for your free stay at their house. It's really a beautiful network that facilitates great cultural exchange.