Day 1

After rising at 3:30 for our 6AM departure from Raleigh Durham, I was already sleep deprived. I had no idea what was coming, however. The flight from RDU to Toronto was uneventful. We arrived on time at 7:45 and cleared Canadian customs with a minimum of drama except for the particularly snarly Canadian officials for whom we were clearly the worst part of their day. So sad to already be dead set on having a bad day at eight o’clock in the morning. Welcome to Canada.  

We then settled in for our four hour wait until boarding by periodically wandering the Toronto airport and cruising the shops full of over-priced duty free while alternately noshing on Starbucks. Not too terrible, but definitely tiresome. 

Hanging out at the Toronto Airport

By the time we got on the plane to Shanghai, we were just ready to get started. I think everyone was dreading the 14+ hour flight, but there's really nothing to do about that except set your jaw and deal. Four hours in, I hit the wall. The thought of ten more hours remaining was almost impossible to imagine. Sleep came sporadically at best and although the in-flight entertainment system was individually customizable, no screen experience can really help when you start passing hours nine and ten with four more to go. At least we knew how much there was left and could gratefully count down the hours, or so we thought.


As we neared the China coast, some of the students noticed that we were going in circles on the interactive map that displayed our flight. Then, suddenly, on the screen, we had a new destination--Cheju--a South Korean island about 420 miles from Shanghai. That info stayed up for ten minutes or so and then our destination changed to Osaka, Japan, more than 500 miles back east, where we had just come from. Arrgh. We then watched in misery as the plane on the screen changed direction and go back toward Japan. Note that all this activity occurred without any announcement from the cockpit. Finally, we got an update and were told about the diversion we had already been watching. So we flew an hour back to Osaka and landed there for refueling and stayed about an hour and a half without leaving the plane. We arrived in Shanghai about five hours late. Twenty hours gate to gate was easily the longest flight of my life. I hope I’ll never complain about a five hour red-eye again.

Crashing on the loooong plane ride

After we debarked, we made our way through a teeming but very efficient immigration process and a nonexistent customs screening to meet Ying and our tour guide Vivian holding a stuffed panda on the end of a telescoping stick. From there the bus took us to our hotel for check-in and collapse.

Pudong Airport upon arrival

Somehow, though, none of us were really ready to sleep. Maybe the lack of food and drink for the last eight hours had something to do with it, but three students and I struck out into the Shanghai night in search of dinner. Restaurants were everywhere, but alas most were closed at 10PM on Sunday night. We did spy some food carts still in operation with promising initial aromas, but closer inspection revealed nothing recognizable as food and some things so disturbingly familiar that we passed. I sensed no resistance from anyone on that decision, even as hungry as we were. We did find one restaurant still serving but no signs we could read. Still, it smelled so good we ventured in and picked from a menu with pictures and some English, enough to order four beers and some ma pa do fu, one of the staple dishes of China. Some sort of bacony beef and a spicy chicken dish rounded out the offerings and we collectively wolfed the food and guzzled the beer in one of the best meals I have had in some time. Total bill for four 22oz beers, three main dishes and rice = 133 Yuan, or $21.28. Spectacular.

One short interaction from earlier bears note. As I emerged from the hotel to start our dinner search, perhaps ten paces ahead of the rest of the group, a slightly rotund man began backing down the front hotel steps with his finger on his lips giving the universal shhh signal but beckoning me closer.

"Look look. You know you want" he said, holding out for inspection some playing card-sized pictures of scantily clad women. 

"You want massage? You need massage. You know you want it. ¥100 for massage.” (¥100 = about $16 US.)

I shook my head from side to side, but he remained undaunted.

“OK, you get massage, just ¥200”

This is the first time I can recall that declining an offer in a negotiation made the price go up. I will have to review my research notes.

“No thanks” I replied. I had yet to learn the universal Chinese refusal—bu yao—that later proved so effective with other aggressive hawkers. 

He was still unconvinced. 

I tried again shaking my head. “No. I don't want a massage. I'm married.”

“Then I know you want” came the immediate reply.  


Walking away proved to be the only remedy.