Not in China Town

Learn a little Chinese before you arrive in China, or you feel like Jodie Foster in the movie "Nell". My boyfriend kept telling me that hardly anyone speaks English in China. I thought that he was just exaggerating, because I've been to several countries where there's always someone who speaks English. However, I was in for a rude awakening. After going through customs and getting my luggage, I knew the adventure was about to begin. Since the night before I left, I made the decision to take the bus instead of the train from Shanghai Pudong Airport to where my boyfriend was in Nanjing. The train just seemed like to many steps to take. (Great decision I will say). So as I headed out door because a guy who looked official pointed to across the street when I asked him where the bus for long distance was. Since across the street was just a wall, I listened to my inner guidance, which lead me a little bit down from across the street where I saw a sign that said, "Long Distance Bus". However, as I approached the you could either go up or down. Either way was a nightmare with my 50lb bag, computer and heavy bag full of snacks. My inner guidance said go up. Bingo, there they were buses. So then I decided to ask an American Airline's pilot where might I buy bus tickets. He was useless. Again inner guidance said. go straight to the right. There it was a dirty little building with a nasty little box office. All I knew to say was, "Nanjing," because I neglected to print out a card saying, "I need to buy a bus ticket to Nanjing." The chick at the box office said something in Chinese and said 136 RMB, and 450. so I then assumed that 450 meant 4:50. Then a guy comes over, the one of them that speaks English, "yellow bus". I didn't understand him clearly, so he repeated, "One, two, three fooooooor, yellow bus." I bought the ticket praying that they weren't playing me. Right then and there I realized that this trip was going to be about trust and faith. Trusting my instincts (God) and trusting God's people. Still unsure that I was going on the right bus, I went over to the "one, two, three, foooor yellow bus" and said, "Nanjing?" He then yelled something in Chinese and pointed for me to go to the waiting room. Now for an interruption sponsored by our friends at Procter and Gamble, "Take toilet tissue to China. You'll stay dry."I know that came out of nowhere, but you gotta take it with you. To think, I was going to leave it. My mother told me to pack some since people have to urinate in holes there. Good thing I listened and packed it. Now back to the story. So while waiting the less enlightened part of me was still unsure that they sold me the right ticket to Nanjing. So there was an older couple standing by the "one, two, three, foooor yellow bus." I pointed to the ticket and said, "Nanjing."

The older gentleman said in basic English, "You want to go to Nanjing?" Finally I could breath. Someone gets me. O.k. that's a stretch, but now they could be like my guardian angels. They reminded me of the Asian version of my parents. The man took me under his wing, (get it angels have wings) and lead me to the phone where I could call boyfriend to let him know that arrived in Shanghai, and that I was on my way. He was so nervous about me traveling alone. I was too, but I couldn't let him know, because, I'm a world traveler and world traveler's don't get nervous. So I had a five hour bus ride ahead of me and now I can exhale. Accept in China obviously smoking is still in style. The bus was a "smoke fest." Not to mention a "gross out fest" with all of the clearing the throats and spitting. O.k.nothing grosses me out more than seeing people spit. It this point if this were a film we cut to my friend Camille saying, "Are you freaking kidding me everything grosses you out." Anyway, I always catch people spitting and even if it's not the highest on my list "gross outs," it's up there. At any rate, after not being able to sleep much on the lifetime of a plane ride to China, I managed to fall asleep.

As I drifting into a deep sleep, it was suddenly interrupted by the stopping, and yes more clearing of throat and spitting. We were in some parking lot, where some weird music was blasting and there were bright Vegas lights. I instantly went to "concentration camp." I thought the bus driver had taken me to a World War twoesque camp. The bus driver said something in Chinese that of course I didn't understand, so I went to the old guy. He said that we were taking a 20 minute break. He directed me to the toilet. There I was, half sleep and standing over a toilet in the floor. Music still blasting from outside. Am I alive? Is this for real? The lights were really dim and incense were burning (something public American rest rooms follow). I was done. I mean I was really done emotionall, physical, done with toilet. I went to get back on the bus, but it was locked. So there I was shivering in the foggy and polluted Chinese air. Then out of nowhere the bus do opens and almost knocks me down. As the bus road off I realized that the driver could take me anywhere and I wouldn't know if I was in the right place or not. I was vulnerability personified.

As the bus ride comes to end, meaning I saw a sign in english that said, "Nanjing," I decided since guys were spitting in plastic bags on the bus, that I could brush my teeth. My long journey for the day was now on its last leg. Now all I had to do was get a taxi to take me to the hotel. Simple. Not. So I got my luggage and preceded to the taxis that were sitting on the street. I pulled out my sheet with the hotel address on it, thinking that I had it made. Jokes on me, no one gets it. I'm screwed I thought, until there he was, my guardian angel. He came over to see why I couldn't get a taxi. "Why didn't your boyfriend meet you?" he asked. The truth is he wouldn't have been any good, because he doesn't speak Chinese or know his way around Nanjing. Anyway, while my "guardian angel' was trying to get the drivers to take me to my hotel, I decided to pore out my bag of toothpaste spit. Now that caused a big commotion. No one wanted to drive me because they thought that I threw up. I had to plee to them that I was fine. The older gentleman said, "They want to know if you are O.K." After that big commotion one driver emerged and said that it would be 30 RMB to take me to my hotel. In retrospect, I got got, because the hotel was less than 10 minutes away, and should have cost 10 rmb. Granted 30 Rmb work out to be about $4, it's still the principle. As soon as I got the hotel, I got down on my knees like an "Extreme Homemaker" receiver. Not really, that's not my style. However, I had a big sigh of relief and wanted a glass of wine, but my body clock was still on central standard time, so technically it was just 8 in the morning.