Saturday, 4:55 pm

We'll call this entry Crummy Morning.

With plans to meet Sheila and her kids for brunch, we decided to skip breakfast this morning and head out for some quick exploring before we rendezvous at Starbucks at 10:00. The weather was cool and the sun was shining, so the morning was lovely. We carried the camera and walked down the tree lined streets, meandering toward the grocery store. (note - if you don't already know this, i'm a bit of a grocery store fanatic) Our standard shopping list in hand, and our pen for notes, we were ready to do some research on our comfort zone and how far it will extend in Shanghai. We reached the store at 8:30. It opens at 9:30. Foiled.

So we decided to try out the metro. We went down into the pits of Shanghai. Talk about concrete jungles, and these underground walkways go on forever. I think one could transverse the entire area of Shanghai without ever seeing the light of day. So we made it into the metro and onto the last car of the train. Don't ever take the last car of the train. They seem to always be packed. This was 9:00 on a Saturday morning, and I had to push just to get onto the train.

We rode our two stops, got off without incident, and ran to the nearest bathroom. (there had been a need in the family for about 10 minutes - and I'll just say that it wasn't me). A quick walk brought us to a public bathroom. We have been warned about public bathrooms, but this was not a time to be choosey. Dave came out a few minutes after he went in, and was in no mood to talk. Let's get out of here, he said. I didn't understand. How bad could a bathroom experience be - had he been accosted?

The Chinese use was seems to be called squat pans. They're glorified holes in the floor. Not like western toilets are glorified holes. They're seriously holes in the floor. Aim is a bit of a challenge, and flushing isn't immediately obvious. Dave didn't want to be around when the next person opened the door!

We walked to the Community Church, what had been described in our book as the protestant chuch for expatriates. On a Saturday morning we weren't expecting much, but we were expecting some English. No one there spoke any English. No signs were in English. Literally, none. So there was no finding out when the service begins, or if there are any English speaking small groups. Foiled again.

We wandered the French Concession a bit, and then decided that there ought to be a grocery store near our Starbucks and that may be a good use of our time. We headed back to the metro. This time was even less pleasant than the first. This time, I began the journey with an eye toward stroller usage. Picturing my beloved red stroller, I walked down a large flight of concrete stairs. No elevator in sight. I pushed onto the train. Literally, pushed onto the train. Those of you who have ridden the metro in St. Louis on the 4th of July or after a Cards game have some idea what this was like. I'm not joking. Simply put, there are too many people for the train. Each stop leaves people behind who could not squish themselves inside. Forget a lovely red stroller. People congregate around the balance bars and other handholds, so the last people on have nothing to hold on to. With the sway of the train, you fall into the door, people lean into you, a man with a sturdy backpack constantly pushed it into my space, I found another man's foot underneath me causing me to lose my balance - I couldn't even stand up straight. Holding a baby? I can't even imagine, and I didn't see any examples.

We reached our stop and were carried off with the wave of people. Following the crowd toward the exit, we see that there are about 10 different directions. We head toward People's Square, taking us up a flight of stairs and eliminating about 5 of them. The stairs lead us into a bright hallway, covered with posters and directional signs. Nothing was in English. Not one Western character. Five different directions to follow, directional signs all over the place, bright lights, tons of people. It made me feel dizzy. Like in the movies, when the music becomes intense and the camera pans in a circle and the whole world feels like its spinning around your character. And Dave says, "This is awesome." That's when I started to cry.