That's China for You . . .

Last night, one of our fellow teachers was performing at a bar in the French Concession. A bunch of people were going to go out and support him, but a couple of us decided that we needed provisions before hand . . . aka: food.

Rebecca and Brian met me and Denis at the "Narth" gate (a typo that we found on this huge map that the school just put up in front of the North gate. We decided to play the "whichever comes first game." The taxi or the 824 . . . the beautiful thing about the 824 is that is cost 2 kuai and Denis doesn't get yelled at. With the cab, we usually get there faster than when taking the bus, but there is a high risk factor of people who don't accept that Denis looks Chinese but does not speak Chinese. I know--it is a lot to take in . . . That cab ride also would have been about 30 kuai. So in the end, it is a win-win/lose-lose situation. Last night the 824 came first--and it was pretty much empty, a wonderful treat.

The four of us have been slowly losing our minds sitting in the office without anything to do, so things have been getting a little batty. This evening provided endless fodder for our silliness. Already, we were thoroughly amusing each other on the bus--recounting the ridiculousness of Xi'an, discussing the events of the afternoon's office shenanigans (see Rebecca's blog), and just being fools in general. The bus ride in kind of long, and we kept picking up more and more people. I couldn't see Brian anymore and after having a short conversation between someone's legs, we gave up. It was at that point that some woman literally fell on me. She was sitting on my arm. She did absolutely nothing to break her fall, she just plopped down on me and then pushed off my shoulder to get up. Needless to say, I was hysterical. I couldn't stop laughing. Crazy lao wai. We made it off the bus without anything else happening, and we had a pretty delicious dinner at a Turkish place on Hengshan Lu (Foreigner Central). While there was still some serious laughter at dinner, no one went crack laugh yet.

Just wait . . .

We stopped in Starbucks, but only Rebecca ended up getting anything because they changed their menu, and it is all weird stuff now. Sad. But the new mugs are pretty super. It is uncanny. White person looking at mugs in Starbucks means at least two employees will be hovering over you the entire time. I am not sure if it is because they think we are going to break something or they really hope we will buy something. I just don't know. I don't think I ever will. Anyway, we decided to head over to Paul's, an more upscale Starbucks that is supposed to be like a patisserie--in both its offerings and its decor. Well, most of the crazy stuff happened within the time between leaving Starbucks and arriving at Pauls. Here you go (just remember, you had to be there):

1. There is this filthy, sludge water in the street. Rebecca tells everyone to be careful not to step in it. She proceeds to jump right into (I am currently a bit hysterical just writing about it--Denis just asked her, "why did you step into it, anyway?" And Rebecca claims to have been distracted, distracted by the motorcyclist. Okay . . . )

2. As the Denis and I stand there laughing at Rebecca, Brian proceeds to leap off the curb, and in avoiding the water, he almost takes out a bike rider. Now you have to use your imagination here. He doesn't just step off the sidewalk--he jumps out with his arms spread wide, and when he lands, he is kind of crouched down with his head held forward and his arms over his head. The way that we described it best was saying that he Batman-ed the guy because when he landed, he looked like Batman when he has just landed. The biker just skidded to a stop and stared at him. Didn't say a word. Then drove off.

3. By this point, all four of us are on the verged of hysteria. But as we walked on, we began to calm down again. We successfully crossed the street and ascertained that we need to continue to go straight. After just traveling a couple of feet, we notice this white guy walking crookedly on the edge of a planter. Apparently he said something like, "come here, boy," but I didn't here it. I just looked at the guy, he kept looking behind him and almost falling off, and thought, "another drunk white boy." But then, out of nowhere, this bulldog jumped out of the bushed and ran toward us. It was completely hidden before this, and especially because I didn't hear the guy call for him, I was more than a little surprised. The dog rushed me, and I figured one of two things would happen--1. The dog would take a chunk out of my leg (not good) 2. The dog would run out into the street (not good either--we had just seen some woman almost get killed). Luckily, neither of these scenarios happened. Instead he just wanted a good rub. He loved it, seriously, he was drooling on my leg . . . when his owner caught up to him and got him on the leash. I started to walk away. When I looked back, the dog had pulled his leash as far as it could go and was staring at me with the most doleful face. It was kind of funny (and a little sad).

4. I waved good-bye to the dog and then said zai jian. I suddenly hear this hysterical laughter behind me. The guard of I don't know what, heard me say zai jian and couldn't deal with it. I don't know if it was because I was a white person who spoke in Chinese (a very viable option, as I often elicit laughter when I use their language) or because I was a white person who spoke Chinese to the dog of another white person. Whatever it was, he kept muttering zai jian and cracking up. The more he laughed, the more Rebecca and I laughed until we were basically hunched over and crying on the street. Denis and Brian were just staring at us. We finally realized that they didn't hear what happened with the guard, and of course, that made us laugh even harder.

Time for more food. The rest of the night was normal. We got some great desserts, which isn't always the easiest thing to accomplish in Shanghai, and discussed how we will not fit anymore when we go home.

We headed over to Bulldog (yes, I know--I don't think it is ironic though), and watched poor Kevin get tortured by incompetence. It took two people about an hour to set up one person and his guitar. Oh China. We listened to some music, got some smoke in our hair (oh, I miss the laws of NY and NJ). Caught a cab. Got home without any trouble. Showered. Slept.

Not a bad day.