We awoke to pack and get our train tickets to head to Beijing on a 5 hour train ride.
The bullet train is probably my favorite part of China. At 300 Kilometers an hour (that's about 180 miles an hour) it's super fast and the cleanest way to travel, it is usually about the same or cheaper than flying domestically and generally, westerner friendly (as in, lots of English and Pinyin).
This is definitely an area that we could work on stateside. I know a lot of you are probably anti-pouring your tax dollars into an efficient cross-country train system, but hear me out.
If you could only see and smell the smog, I think you would change your mind. Or maybe if you realized how much cheaper it is, maybe we would finally see flight prices drop, too. You could take your families on vacation for less money and less potent chemicals so your grandkids would never have to smell what I smelled and inhale those potent fumes (that is unless they're crazy enough to take an internship in China).
Alright, alright, I'm done.
Whenever you travel in China, or in the world in general, you have to face a language barrier. Most of the world speaks English and most of Shanghai does, too, but that doesn't apply in Beijing. Language is far less common in Beijing than Shanghai.
In China, you also have to face the added struggle of food. Most brands, labels, even pictures, are simply unrecognizable and, unfortunately you don't always get an English-speaking stewardess with the food cart on the train. I packed snacks, but they weren't super filling.
Also, water.
Water is important.
And most train stations and even cars on the train have "water fountains." I only put this in quotations since it is less like a fountain and more like a faucet.
A faucet that emits boiling hot (as in 212 degrees Fahrenheit) water - again, it has to be that hot to get rid of the pollutants.
So make sure you have a good Chinese app on your phone (I recommend Pleco, it's free!), filling snack food, and a tough water bottle.
Along the way, we enjoyed a variety of passing scenery while listening to some awesome American music. Nick brought a headphone splitter at my request, and, I can't believe I'm admitting to something like this, but I thought it was supa' romantic. I finally got him to watch Fight Club, which he didn't really care for.
Can you believe that?
I have a cult tendency towards Fight Club and he treated like some chick flick!
Frick.
By the time we arrived to Beijing my mind was exhausted, I was starved, and dying of thirst. We were low on cash and needed to save it for the taxi so unfortunately we had to opt out of Nick's favorite Japanese restaurant, Yoshinoya since they refused the card, and go for McDonald's.
Not very cultural, I know, but at least they took the card, and, well, okay, I will say it, I was dying for some America.
Afterwards we headed to the taxi line, which, unlike the Shanghai train station, is unfortunately full of illegal taxi drivers harassing you with "where you going? I take you." Trust me when I say to always just hop in the extremely long (probably 30 minute wait) taxi queue, it will save you a lot of money and stress.
The driver was kind enough to do his best to help us find the correct alley way to walk down to our hostel (it was built into a traditional Chinese hostel in a Chinese alleyway neighborhood, don't worry they're safe, I promise) and even called the hostel to ensure he was right.
See, the Chinese people can be nice and even helpful sometimes.
Our hostel, Sitting On The City Walls Courtyard House, was awesome and the hosts were super nice. There was a nice sitting and garden-like area in the center and they served great meals and even provided a guide to do-it-all in the 3 days we had featuring public transit (buses and metros both) that we could use to cut down on time. I would highly recommend them, if not for anything else but a pretty decent location.
If you're ever living in China and go to the Shanghai-Pudong airport to fetch someone, you should know that there are completely separate arrivals stations for domestic and international arrivals and only one little sign to indicate this.
I happened to arrive at the airport two hours before the before did, although my life being what it is, he ended up waiting for me for about 45 minutes.
Time is never on my side.
When you factor in his plane's 30 minute premature arrival as well as my stupidity in missing the aforementioned sign, I was not a very welcoming host.
We were finally off and on our way to the Shanghai Hotel Indigo. Hotel Indigo is my favorite brand, not just under IHG, but in the world of hotels. They are distinctly boutique and always well-designed. The service is great without having uptight staff.
It's the kind of brand a girl that bores of working in chain hotels, but doesn't want to lose her travel discount, dreams of.
Anyway.
Our room was designed as if it were a studio apartment: brick walls, day bed serving as a couch, a quarter canopy over the bed, a super fab desk area, and the most awesome view of the Bundt you could possibly get (and did I mention the walk-in shower that has a floor to ceiling window to show it off?).
I could probably use the rest of this post to go on and on about the hotel, but I will let you experience it for yourself sometime or just check out there site here.
The next morning he surprised me with American cereal he had brought from home (heck yes!) and we headed off to have breakfast at a place called A Future Perfect.
Now, I would also love to continue the rest of this post ranting and raving about how fabulous our breakfast was there, except we never made it.
Yeah, we got lost and in the haste of our hunger settled on a random cafe with mediocre food.
This made me particularly sad because I like to go to Shanghai for the food. Shanghai is cool and all, but there really isn't anything more important to me, a girl that lives in a relatively small China town with little access to decent food, than the international food scene.
So, we ate our mediocre food and then got lost some more on our way to try to go to a temple that ended up being too busy and too expensive for us to care to go to anymore. In the end, we spent most of the day on the subway and part of it at People's Park, which is essentially the Central Park of Shanghai.
I told you, the New York of Asia.
Along the way, I made sure he tried a few of my favorite things: Yakult, Green Apple flavored Fanta (or "fen dah" as the Chinese say), Bueno Bars, and the CoCo stand's milk tea.
And he kept on in a game of "Can you smell that?"
I know I've complained about how the water just reeks of pollution, as does the air, and the occasional disgusting smell of weird Chinese food or spoiling, well, whatever.
I'm happy to report that by this point those smells no longer existed.
Well, as long as my nose knew they didn't.
Unfortunately this wasn't the case for Nick who was a constant reminder that I could no longer smell these fumes.
"You can't smell that?"
"There's no way you can't smell that one."
"I can't believe you're practically Chinese now that you nose has turned."
Okay, that last one was a little harsh.
I wonder if I was that obnoxious when I first arrived. It's okay, Nick, I forgive you.
That evening, Nick had his first try of the amazing soup-filled dumplings at Din Tai Fung.
Fortunately for you, you don't have to go all the way to Shanghai to enjoy one of my new favorite restaurants on the planet. They also have a location in Los Angeles and Seattle.
So, in all probability, you only have to fly across the country instead of around the world.
And it's worth it.
I assure you.
We wrapped up our last night in Shanghai by going to the Apple store so Nick could get his cult fix, but also brag to his co-workers back at his home Apple store and, finally, up the Oriental Pearl Tower.
Standing at 1,535 feet, the Oriental Pearl Tower is a sight to see among over 3,000 sky scrapers in Shanghai. And because this is China, it is much prettier at night. Just as a refresher: the Chinese love their neon lights in the night sky, plus it makes you forget about all the smog you're breathing into your lungs.
I was deathly afraid of the glass floor and consistently ridiculed with each child that ran by in utter happiness at the thought of running across the city of Shanghai at over 1,500 feet, with no regard of what I was sure was pending doom from running along glass at that height.
I was ready for bed or alcohol.
But a bed actually sounded better since I had already probably sweat out all my water weight that day.
In fact, I'm ready for it now just thinking about it.
So my procrastination got the best of both of us and we did not start packing until mid night.
Any one who has ever watched or helped me pack would surely confirm that I am not the fastest or most motivated packer on the planet. I'm easily distracted.
Generally, I just hate doing it.
People quickly give up on helping me and opt for a few extra hours of sleep instead (again this is usually started at an odd hour of the morning on the morning of departure), which is probably in their best interest anyway.
There was laundry to be done and programs to be downloaded (so I can keep writing in this blog via China as well as update Facebook so no one goes into mass hysterics).
If you ever go to China, I recommend StrongVPN.com. They have 24/7 online chats which helped a lot. They even do Virtual Private Networks for the iPhone, too. Which is nice if I happen to find Wi-Fi when I am out and about during the day. It is $60 for 6 months, which really isn't bad. Basically a VPN works as if you are set up on your own wireless network. So, even though I'm in China writing this, technically I happen to be writing from an IP address (an IP address is like a locator, it is like the caller ID of the internet) that I believe is actually based out of San Francisco. You want the alternate IP base to be as close as possible so your connection is as strong as possible. They defaulted mine to San Francisco. Most of the high class hotels in China, like where yours truly works, do the same thing. Theirs are usually defaulted to a Singapore IP address. So I guess, and hope, it isn't illegal if a big place like an Intercontinental Hotel is using them.
That was your tech lesson of the day, I hope you enjoyed it.
Moving on.
So, yeah, packing isn't fun.
It still hadn't hit me yet, though. Don't forget, I still haven't slept, so I just want to be finished. I also really want the Rice Krispy Treat cereal before I leave, so there is added incentive to finish with time to spare.
Can I just say my heart melted when he picked up the purple rice krispy treat cereal box that day in Wal Mart? I hate the blue box. No one wants rice cake cereal for breakfast, damn it. Frick, I wish I was home to have some right now.
And waffle crisp, too.
Or cinnamon toast crunch.
And apple jacks.
Corn pops..
Golden Grahams.
Sigh.
Enough with the salivating. I guess I will just enjoy this banana (frick, I always spell that wrong, that god for spell check). The bananas here are really small. And I would love to make a joke about Asian bananas right about now, but I'm going to keep it PG around here. Or at least try to.
No promises.
So after separating everything that is going to China from those that stay and essentially vacuum sealing 6 months of my life into space bags that are contained within 2 suitcases and slightly large carry on duffel and my trusty north face backpack for a personal item, I felt small again.
This was it. The contents of my life for the next 6 months in 4 bags on the floor. Yet, I felt so unprepared. "I haven't been this scared in a long time and I'm so unprepared."
I haven't really done my homework on living and working in China. Surely I was forgetting something.
I looked at my watch and it was 4 am.
20 minutes to spare.
The perfect amount of time to eat rice krispy cereal.
And so we ate.
Very quietly.
It was the most solemn meal of my life. The *Snap,* *Crackle,* and *Pop* were louder than we were. They were basically a surround sound system on steroids as far as I was concerned.
All I could think was, how did I get here?
This isn't really happening.
I was in serious denial by this point.
We loaded the car very quietly since most of the world was still asleep on what was for them, just an ordinary Monday morning. As we drove, I somehow treated it like a normal car ride to go on some other local Californian adventure, picking my favorite songs from his iPod to listen to as I watched neighborhoods go by. I couldn't bring myself to cry or be upset.
This wasn't really happening.
So we got there and parked and roamed around the garage until we stumbled upon the elevator to get to the train to get to the terminal (how complicated does it really have to be?). With each transfer we got on with business and leisure travelers who would only be gone for a week or so. I know I looked like the bag lady to them.
I'm leaving for 6 months!
At this point I had regretted not making a sign to wear so people would stop staring. I knew soon they would be staring again, even after I had my bags checked, when we said good bye, but I pushed that from my mind before I teared up.
This isn't really happening.
We made it to the Air Canada counter somehow and got in line with all the other Asians that I would be sharing my Vancouver layover with. They were going home. After all the asians I had seen at the Grand Canyon and some at Yosemite, I couldn't help but wonder how their trip to the states had been.
Had they enjoyed it? Was it the time of their lives? Did people stare at them? Did at least one of them speak English? Was their head hurting from so much foreign language like mine did in Paris at the end of everyday spent thinking, speaking, and reading at a higher level of difficulty and therefore more effort? How grateful were they to go home where the food and language are familiar? To see their friends and families again and share their pictures and stories.
More importantly, how would I answer the same questions in December?
The boy was getting quieter so I knew he was getting more and more upset and having a harder time containing himself. We both knew he was going to be more upset visually, I tend to hold these things in until I'm alone.
We finally approached the counter and I began my first Asian encounter of the day. The first of a string of encounters that were all very rude and demeaning. Every Asian that works in service, at least in the airline service is pretty much the equivalent of someone that works at the DMV.
Same. Service. Standards.
Clearly.
I was so happy to walk away from the counter, half saddened that something didn't happen. I was sure my passport was going to show up as a misidentified criminal or my flight was actually the day before and I missed it. I even checked my e-mail really quickly to see if the hotel changed their mind about having an intern anyway.
Nope.
So we walked just before security and sat down for a really hard 5 minutes that easily makes me cry, sob really, now that I'm alone in my room writing this, but that I used all my energy to keep from doing there.
This was it.
He was the last person I would see and hug before leaving everything I knew. The last familiar face that knew me as a person and who I was before I became the foreign intern girl 14 flight hours away. It is tough to leave home when there are so many people that you love and love and care for you there. My aunt once asked me why I felt the need to do this, people loved me at home, why couldn't I just stay with my own?
And for the first time, I agreed and wondered what in the hell I was doing.
Yet, in the back of my mind, I had already signed myself on and I couldn't stay long or I would miss my non-refundable flight to a job I had already signed a contract for.
So I glanced at security as the line grew and as he noticed, he handed me 2 sealed cards, "to be opened on the plane." In return I dug deep in my backpack for a necklace I had made 2 months earlier. It features a heart on the state of TN where Memphis is by Brooke Medlin, check her stuff out here.
And that was it.
He broke down and I felt like an asshole.
(sorry my rating just went to PG-13 I think).
But, I did. I couldn't believe I was doing this to all my loved ones. I'm so selfish. What a prick. All those things I'm going to miss.
Weddings.
Births.
Birthdays.
A graduation.
My friend is even leading a sermon in August, can you believe that?
All the other accomplishments. My friends and family are so amazing. They do so well for themselves. I couldn't ask for a better group of people to surround myself with and as I watch the love pour in on FaceBook and on this blog, I can't help but feel a little worse.
All of that within 2 seconds of thought.
I wanted to give them all a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek, because I love them all so much and am so grateful for each and everyone in my life.
I don't deserve any of them.
But, time is a demon.
And I was forced to move on.
We hugged one last time and I walked away as soon as we stepped apart. If I had stayed a second longer, I wouldn't have gotten on the plane and I knew it.
I would have stayed. Stayed in California and found a job at a hotel. I knew I could nab at least a supervisor position in the city. I could do that with a week or two and have my own apartment within the month. And spend my weekends having Californian adventures and get ready for the next big adventure 6 months down the line. And have Fenton's ice cream every other night. And C.R.E.A.M. ice cream sandwiches every Sunday.
I could have a real life. The ones everyone else it getting.
I could settle down and be happy.
I never looked back. I couldn't bear to see his face and what I had done. I felt so heartless.
I battled my tears all day, but from the stares, I know it was evident anyway. I sat by the window on my first flight with no one in my row. Since I knew the Shanghai flight would be full, now would be a better time that ever to open the cards. I bit my lip to the point of blood to keep from breaking down in sobs and reminded myself how exhausted I was so I coaxed myself to sleep, breaking only for Orange Juice.
Somehow, I had still yet to fully understand what I was doing. I was just tired at this point. My layover was quick, only long enough to get one last venti (gotta go out with a bang) caramel frappecino from Starbucks.
Although, one of the first places someone showed me when I arrived was a starbucks nearly adjacent to the hotel, ha!
I found my place on the plane and this is where people really stare just as they did for Paris. A girl traveling alone on an international flight? Really?
Trust me, they all stare. Be they Parisians or Asians.
Needless to say, as I tackled the second and third set of mean service industry asians and the rest of the day alone, I was growing less and less fond of this trip. My frustration and loneliness growing to a point of near tears, but, I couldn't let them win. No one was going to see Madison Sites cry on account of them.
I settled in quickly and tried to sleep despite the stares as once in a while someone would turn and look. I was only asleep for 30 minutes.
I decided to catch up on some reading of "Hard Sell," a mediocre read.
On flights like these, as in this long, the light system at the roof of the plane changes colors. They work like a new internal clock that essentially ebbs and flows with the sleep cycle they want you to have, a quiet red for when the plane is settled and most people begin to sleep. An hour later it changes to purple, an in between before blue, as people begin to wake and work on some things, and blue for eating.
I'm not sure if everything flight is like that outside of Air Canada, but that is just as I noticed it. It is a good strategy to maintain control.
It makes me feel like Wall-E. You know, the people that live their entire lives in that chair and eat out of a milkshake cup? Hopefully this video is a quick reminder, the internet would only load the first 9 seconds but it seemed to be what I was looking for. Knowing my luck from second 10 on is Wall-E style porn, which just moved my blog rating to R. Frick.
Yeah, that was me.
I sat. I slept. I woke up to have meals served to me on a plastic tray. I watched TV as I ate them (for those of you that have been telling me, yes, The Big Bang Theory is hilarious and I love it). And listened to the new Snow Patrol CD, Fallen Empires, on the TV system (GO GET IT!) while I read or wrote in my journal.
I felt like I was on my deathbed. I was being given inputs just to keep my body alive until we made it to China. But I didn't feel alive.
I felt sick.
It hit me after my first nap.
This was it.
I was going to China. Where I don't speak the language. I don't know the history. I don't know anyone. I was going to work in a culture I was unfamiliar with.
They were going to hate me. And I was going to hate myself.
Can I use the emergency exit? Just drop me off here before we finish passing these random islands off Alaska, please.
So this was my 12 hours of flight summed up.
Sleep. Wake up. Realize where I am and where I'm going. Fight tears. Read. Eat. Watch TV. Write. Repeat.
When we arrived, I got off last as usual. I prefer to sit and wait and watch all the people standing up and waiting just to go wait to get their bags.
I got to the bathroom to change into my suit (if you are nice and they have the room the attendants will let you use their closet to hang a suit jacket), and use the dry shampoo, face wipes, wisp, and travel perfume that I was quickly thankful I had so smartly packed and I was ready to go without any tearfest battle scars evident.
Much love.
Well, I can't believe its here.
Phoenix.
The mark of the beginning of a long journey full of adventure.
Its been a while since I've made an appearance here, so lets back track.
I want to be a professor.
I enjoy teaching. I also like flexibility in hours and dress. I tend to work hard and expect a pay to reflect this.
I don't particularly like children, so teaching middle and under is out of the question.
Its difficult to have flexibility in high school - you still have the 7 - 3 schedule.
In college, you wear what you want and teach a few classes, maintaining summer, winter, and in-between breaks.
And if you teach business, it easily pays six figures.
So I applied to graduate school. Specifically the International MBA program at the University of Memphis.
I know, I know. I don't branch out much in scholarly endeavors. Then again, look at all the traveling I did through my undergraduate degree with the school. Plus, its a really great school. And its affordable. And by affordable, I mean, they pay me to go there. Not bad.
They require 2 letters of recommendation. I e-mailed around, got my responses, except for one. The director of the hospitality school. He never answered.
The guy loves me. He constantly said I was a perfect choice for the Kemmons Wilson Scholars program and thoroughly enjoyed our trips together. He asked where I wanted to work when I got back from Orlando and made sure I got a job there.
So why didn't he answer?
Two weeks late he replied. And attached an excel document with around 50 hotels in China looking for interns in various positions under the IHG (Intercontinental Hotel Group) umbrella. He wrote, "I recommended you for these, how's your chinese?"
What?
Chinese? I don't speak Chinese. French, dude. My foreign language is French. I have no interest in going to Asia. Who cares about Asia?
"What the hell is wrong with you? You're young and dumb, go have an adventure."
Said the very old woman that worked with me.
Well, okay.
I applied to 5 Intercontinental hotels looking for an American Female in regions known for their high levels of english-speaking (thank you Google for your research assistance).
I got responses from all and interviews for 3. I told the director the one I had my eye on - a gorgeous new property in Suzhou (known for its gardens and canal system as well as its proximity to Shanghai). They also wanted a native english-speaker with a side of French or German. What a match.
My interview was at 3 in the morning. Yes, three AM. I got up and put on a suit and make up at 3 in the morning. I should have got the job just for showing up like that.
A week later I got the e-mail while I was on spring break in California.
I felt so sick.
Had I really done this?
But I could always turn it down and go to graduate school as planned.
Was I really going to turn down an international job to go to international business school?
I signed the contract and sent it back before I saw my family. I wanted to be sure it was my decision. No one else's.
They were devastated. My mom told me to never tell my kids they can go and do anything they want in the world, because they just may believe you.
And she's right.
No one else at that school took advantage of the opportunity. They were all too scared. Too scared to fail or encounter a different culture.
I refuse to let fear stop me from adventure.
I'm scared to death. And nauseated at times. But no adventure, no matter how large or small, hasn't been worth it.
Ever.
Not Paris.
Not Panama.
Not Mexico.
Not moving to Disney.
And neither will China.
So here I am. In Phoenix.
About to hang out and go backpack the grand canyon with my adventure boy. And then to California for more adventures.
And then Vancouver.
For a small layover before a 12 flight to Shanghai.
I'm glad I did this in increments.
When I left Tennessee this morning, it felt like just another trip to the west coast. Tears were minimal. Packing was not.
I feel as if it won't be until the day before that I start to feel it since we will be so busy adventuring. Or maybe I'm used to calming international and general new experience fears.
So now this blog will take another turn.
Documenting my adventures until June 11 when I take off, but also documenting what it is like for an American girl to work in China for 6 months as a management training intern.
I have NO idea what is in store. Information on business and social customs are minimal. So you're invited along for the ride as I find out the hard way.
For starters, I'm no history buff, so I've been reading Henry Kissinger's "On China." Its a thick read and I've yet to finish, but I promise to report back soon.
Well, I have a sun burn to catch.
Much love.
