7/1/07 - Caroline

Of Germans and Jimmy Buffet

The past two days have been incredibly interesting. Of course, most of my days here are fairly interesting, but I think these put the icing on the cake.

I spent the majority of Friday watching “House.”¹ In to-tal, I think I watched approximately…um…eight episodes. I didn’t have the slightest desire to delve into Shanghai, thereby exiting my bed. So I did not. I do what I want. I watched so much “House,” I am having trouble distinguishing between reality and television. Also, I have discovered that nearly everything, everyone, and every place can somehow be associated with “House.” Around sixish, I ran out of “House” episodes and was forced to find another source of entertainment.

No one had anything particularly interesting to tell me, so I soon lost interest. Pretty typical. Everyone planned to go to some Indian restaurant for dinner, but I am trying my hand at frugality (not working as planned) and did not want to spend more than ten kuai (about a buck) on dinner. Also, I was really desperate to exercise for fear of getting massive in China, which, by the way, is impossible. So I went for a slightly awkward run. Awkward barely even describes the feeling of billions of weird looks from complete strangers as sweat cascades down your body. But I am sure you can imagine my sentiments. Usually Keshia comes with me, distracting the Chinese with her dark skin. However, she was in a major funk and decided to wallow a bit.

Upon return, usual routine: shower, facebook, dick around, in no particular order. I heard a light, slightly catchy knock on the door. Colin stood there in his blue plaid bath robe and slippers, with his silly little grimace. I burst into laughter immediately.

Side note on Colin: Victim number two. I have been bating him for several days now, seeing if I get any nibbles. About an hour before his visit, I casually sent him a message via facebook. Of course, he responded. Insert cat call here.

Back to the night: We headed over to the back gate to grab some pre-party grub. You know, the kind of stuff you need to line your stomach in preparation for a long night of heavy drinking. However, I failed miserably, but more on that later. I was sweating profusely, terribly inconvenient considering the task at hand: make out with Colin mission. I was really craving corn (I am slowly morphing into a native) so we went to this street vendor. Disaster ensued. Keshia’s chicken was cooked until it turned to dust. She stood there giving the grill guy a look of death, as if to say “burn my chicken and I burn you.” Her mood only intensified. She was so pissed! She calmly asked me for the key and stormed back to the dorm to continue her wallowing, leaving just me and Colin! Haahahah, I love when my plans conveniently unfold!

As Colin and I headed back to the dorm, we heard this high pitched squeal and this very angry lady and man with a black eye were standing in the middle of the street surrounded by Chinese. Very entertaining. Colin and I hoped for a fight, but nothing really happened so we left. We decided to meet up around 9:30 and head over to Xintiandi, a really cool upscale bar area in Shanghai.

I choose to wear this really short little black tshirt dress. When I say really short, I mean so short that if I bent over my ass hung out the bottom short. Combined with the itsy bitsy shot I had just taken, I was feeling pretty good. Needless to say, I was laying all my cards on the table, hoping Colin noticed. We tried to rally the forces and encourage others to come with us, but no one seemed to excited about the prospects of a really fun night! And they were still at dinner. All to well, looked like it was just going to be me…and COLIN! Once again, the plan was going smoothly.

We headed over to Xintiandi, walked around a bit. It was Colin’s first time going, so he wanted to poke around a bit before he was too drunk to function. Ironically, he kept dragging me into all these stores, all these jewelry stores! I was quickly growing tired of this. So we meandered through the streets, trying to find a decent looking bar that didn’t charge and arm and a leg to enter. The instant I heard “Sweet Home Alabama,” I got excited. Finally, a chill bar that doesn’t play really heinous hip hop/techno/all of the above! Paulaner Brehaus: where memories are made AND forgotten, all at the same time! Colin informed me he had very little money on him, not to worry, I had tons. Frugality proposal not going too well.

This bar was packed to the brim, tons of old American farts and vulnerable Chinese women. You know, the usual. Colin and I walked around, desperately searching for a table. Finally, we found one in the back corner. Some German dude came over and commented on the snazziness that was Colin’s Rolls Royce shirt. He too worked at Rolls Royce. Really weird, he was there with his two kids, neither of which seemed older than fifteen and they were all having a cold one. Colin and I peruse the menu, deciding on cocktails first and then move to the beer. He asks what I want, I insist he surprise me. Friendly bantering back and forth, until he order a Mint Eyeball (???) and for me, a Long Island. Definite sign of interest, he is trying to get me wasted.

Our drinks come, I tried to pace myself, but with a Long Island that’s really hard, especially when it tastes so lovely! One drink (well, actually two) down and I am already pretty drunk. Next, we ordered two beers, only these were not normal sized drinks, more along the lines of our own personal pitchers. But damn, that beer was delicious! I love a good dark beer! Colin and I continued to shoot the shit, not a single dull moment either! At this point, exactly what we talked about is a little unclear. Half way through my beer, I excused myself to the little lady’s room for a quick break. I checked my hair, and headed back to my mission. However, I was hooted at by this guy with a handle bar mustache. Immediately, I knew he was American, probably Southern. By the looks of his gaudy shirt, I would imagine him single with multiple divorces. I gave him a large smile and played my best Southern sweetie roll. Colin and I only had enough money left for the cab ride back, but we were still thirsty, so it was time to earn free drinks. Rad Rod, so I will refer to the mustache man, and I talked for a minute and I told him to come find me later. Why am I such a weirdo? Could I possibly be any sketchier?

I returned to Colin and my beloved beer and the interesting things continued to develop. Colin asked me to dance, so with a really hilarious European man, we all danced to thriller. I was pretty drunk at this point and my head kept colliding with Colin’s. That explains the massive headaches I have had all day and the bruises on my forehead. Luckily, he is almost as bad of a dancer as I am. He kept wanting to twirl me around, an impossible feat given the size of my purse. Very awkward, luckily I was too drunk to care. The band took a break, and so did we. Colin left to go to the bathroom and I grew very thirsty. Time to make a new friend!! I broke out my “lost and can’t find my friends, please offer me a seat and better yet a beer” face. In no time, I made my first Dutch friend: Olaf. Olaf, Olaf, Olaf, OOOOOO Olaf! He was very entertaining and was sitting with about four very boring Chinese men. Turns out Olaf works for Disney. Olaf bought a few rounds of beer and I started drinking pretty much uncontrollably, it was so good and I was parched!

The night progressed, Colin started pimping me out to dance with Olaf. Luckily, he came and saved me, I was overjoyed to say the least. I became really enamored with the band, they were so…American! I loved it. I was having the a time. However, it was way passed my bedtime and I was starting to get cranky. Not to mention, we were basically the only people left in the bar. Colin and I said our goodbyes to the Dutch and his Chinese cronies and made our way to the curb where we proceded to hail a cab. I wasn’t really ready to go home yet, I begged Colin to take me to one more bar! He was having none of it, so we just headed back to the dorms. Things got a little cosy in the cab, but nothing over PG rating. We arrived back at dorms, where we ran into the rest of the group…heading out! It was 2:30 am and they were just leaving. Apparently, I was holding hands with Colin and slightly falling all over him. My friend Amanda claims that I had that look about me that I tend to get when A. I am totally uninterested in what is happening B. I am concentrating really hard on the task at hand: making out with Colin. The most awkward part of this entire encounter was the fact that I made out/professed slight interest in one of the other guys, Graham. Very interesting. He wasn’t reciprocating any interest, so I moved on. Hahahaha. After we left, Anika turns to Graham, “Wasn’t she holding your hand last week??” Ok, so the cat’s out of the bag, I am a make-out whore. The last three times I have gone out, I have made out with three different people, but that’s it! I swear! Graham feigned disinterest, but he was a little pissy with me today. Whatever, that was two weeks ago and he has made absolutely no effort, I only assumed that he wasn’t interested!

So Colin and I somehow made it back to dorms. Luckily, he has a single. We went in, made out a bit, he excused himself to the bathroom. I passed out. He tried to arouse me, to no avail. I said he could sleep in the other bed if he wanted. Of course I was telling him where to sleep in his own room! He promptly kicked me out. For the best I think. So I proceeded back to my room, sat on the end of my roomie’s bed. She woke up, I jumped up and ran into the bathroom. Then I came out and sat on her bed, again. “Caroline, get in your bed,” she sleepily commanded. So I did, still in the same outfit I wore out, jewelry and everything.

The Next Day:

I woke with a start, not sure exactly where I was, but glad to discover I was in my own bed, by myself. My roommate had just left and I most certainly wasn’t going to admit to myself that I was too hungover to do something productive. I showered, got dressed and headed out into the city. It was one of those days where I think I was still kinda drunk and performing the most simplest of tasks like a complete idiot. I bought a bottle of water and some green tea, hoping the combination would cleanse my system. Failed and I realized I had better hurry and drink both of them because they were heavy! I went to the post office, mailed my post cards with no major postcards. As I slipped them into the mailbox, I noticed that the bus I wanted to take was right there, imagine my good luck! I awkwardly ran over and searched for two kuai, dropping tons of money and missing the bus. Typical. I waited another ten minutes in the excruciating heat for the next bus, sweating out the liter of beer + other drinks I had consumed the night before. For those not familiar with the metric system, a liter of beer is equivalent to a pitcher. See pictures below.

I made it to the metro station and took the metro to Peoples’ Square. Once I arrived, the full force of my hangover hit me and I began to hate myself. I considered going into Starbucks, but given the amount of money I had spent the night before, I decided this was not a wise decision. I continued on my journey and began to hate myself even more for the poor choice in shoes. I was already beginning to get blisters and I knew it was downhill from here. I found what appeared to be the Shanghai City Planning Museum. I just couldn’t figure out how to get across the street. I stood there for about five minutes contemplating and then found the underground crossing. It was right in front of me. I headed downstairs. I was highly distracted by the millions of small booths downthere! Shoppers’ paradise really. I stopped in a shoestore, considering the possibility of buying a new pair to replace the source of my pain. However, none of the shoes fit, all too small and narrow. So I left the store more dejected then when I had first arrived. I wandered into a denim store, thinking maybe I will buy a new skirt. The sales people were really nice, but they kept encouraging me to try on these really tacky studded numbers. I finally found a watch store I really liked. Honestly, I didn’t have enough money to buy one, but I wasn’t really planning on spending any money anyways. So I told the lady I had to go to the bank, but would return shortly. However, she wanted to escort me to the bank personally. I was majorly caught in my own lie. I told her I would come back tomorrow and she gave me a look of pure disdain. After running away from her, I was desperate for food and found the nearest KFC possible. I ordered my food and took off to find a seat. There weren’t any. I ended up dining with a Chinese couple that was clearly on a date. Awkward, I know.

I had been wandering around this little underground mall for about two hours and was seriously considering just going back to my dorm. I couldn’t figure out how to get across the street, every time I exited, I was right back where I started! I did this like four times too! I was too hungover to get frustrated, I was just really tired. So I sat down and had a manicure. The ladies did wonders on my cuticles! I was so impressed. They were really nice too. I am sure they just wanted me to stay longer and buy more services, but they kept telling me how beautiful my eyes were, how good my Chinese was, etc. They were so full of shit. My eyes were bloodshot beyond belief, I don’t know if you could even see the whites at this point. And my Chinese sucks! But they were nice. I asked them if they knew where the Chinese equivalent of the “Shanghai developing center thing place” was because I couldn’t think of a better translation for my destination. Amazingly, they understood my request and gave me directions. I left with a renewed interest in the museum and great looking nails.

Finally, I found the museum. It was air conditioned, perfect. I bought a ticket, but had to pay the regular person price because I had unfortunately left my little red book they call a student ID in my dorm. My feet were practically dying at this point, I was walking like either a cripple or a freak. Either way, I was in a lot of pain. I sped through the museum at record breaking speed and tried to locate some bandaids. Once again, my botched up Chinese proved its use. I kept asking where I could buy these things (pointed to other bandaids scattered on my various other blisters) and then pointed to my new blisters. Disgusting, but it got my message across. I was sent across the street to the Raffle City Mall. However, the damn mall had nine floors! How was I ever going to locate a band aid specific store? I went into French Connection (this mall had a lot of foreign stores) and re-enacted the entire bandaid blister pointing nightmare. Finally, I found the local drugstore in the basement and bought my saving graces. I managed to hobble back to the main floor and went outside in search of a bench so I could fix myself. I found a ledge and sat down. No one was really out there except for me and some random Chinese janitor, who kept giving me funny looks. It took me a moment to realize why. My dress kept blowing up in the wind, exposing more skin that was socially acceptable in public. I hurried with the bandaids and ran back inside, healed at last.

After the mall, I walked around for a little longer. The bandaids were coming off and I was once again in an immense amount of pain, so I decided to head back to campus. I tried to find the metro, but once again, I ended up walking around and went out the entrance three times before I actually found it. I bought a ticket and got on the train. The stops weren’t looking very familiar, so I got off at the Shanghai Train Station Stop and checked out a map. I was going the right way. I tried to get back on the metro, but to my surprise, they weren’t letting anyone back on. It was the weirdest thing ever! The service guy was clearing everyone off and the train was leaving empty. So I was stuck in the station for like thirty minutes before I was able to get back on the metro. I finally got off at what I thought was the correct stop. I exited the metro station and ABSOLUTELY NOTHING was recognizable. There was hardly anyone around, which was really weird for China. I had no idea where I was. I went back down into the metro station. By this time, I had been in transit for at least an hour and a half. I found a map and realized I was at the wrong Zhongshan stop. Apparently there were two. So I went back to my original stop at People’s Square (place with the mall) and started all over again. Finally, I made it back to my neighborhood and found the bus to take to my dorm.

In line for the bus, I recognized one of the girls from the UVa Gateway program. Seeing as we were standing next to each other in a line of only Chinese, I figured it would be highly rude and awkward if I didn’t say anything to her. So, after a bit of small talk, I found out that she was leaving the next day to go home early because she had some incurable infection! Turns out she had open blisters on her foot and some China germ had gotten into her body. She was having all these weird symptoms and was hospitalized for a few days. Seeing as this was China, they couldn’t perform any of the appropriate tests on her, therefore unable to correctly diagnose her problem. So she was heading back. Normally, I would have felt bad for her and not worried anymore about it. However, at this point, I had four massive, open, painful, dirty blisters on my feet! I practically ran back to my dorm, dove for the Neosporin and covered my feet in it. That would be my luck to catch some weird bacterial/viral/incurable inconvenient disease in China.

The rest of the day was pretty much lost, seeing as I sat very isolated in my room for fear of contamination of my open wounds. I ordered in food, which proved to be not too tasty and a waste of money. The rest of the night (and the majority of Sunday) was spent watching “House,” my newest addiction. In a matter of mere days, I have managed to complete an entire season of shows. Yes, I am pathetic, but we all have to relax somehow. It’s now Sunday night around 10:30, and I have managed to not open a single Chinese related book. I have an essay and about thirty new characters awaiting me, so I guess it’s about time I buckled down and started studying.