DATELINE: Shanghai, China
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Author: Lauren Cohen
As we were preparing for takeoff for the 16-hour flight from JFK to Shanghai, the man sitting next to me remarked, "I hope we're on time; I missed my connection last time." It was only then that I realized my time to connect in Hong Kong was a scant 50 minutes Of course, by the time I woke from my first nap, I was already watching the ETA clock. I caught myself becoming anxious as I counted, "time to destination: 11 hours and 36 minutes..that gets us in at 2:32, my flight is at 3:00." I also happened to be sitting in the very last row of the plane, so I figured, "20 minutes to disembark...that's 2:52..OH CRAP." I took a deep breath and told myself that there was no sense worrying about it just yet. If I missed my connection because the flight was late, I would deal with it. I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one. At least I wouldn't have to worry about my bags making the connection, since I carried on my backpack. As arrival into Hong Kong neared and the ETA clock put us further and furthe behind schedule, I resigned myself to missing that flight. When we pulled into the gate at 2:40, I calmly stood up, took my backpack and waited calmly for the passengers from all 65 rows in front of me to do the same. For once, my heart wasn't pounding in the back of my throat at the situation. As I entered the airport, I heard a woman's voice calling "Shanghai, Shanghai." A 5-foot tall flight attendant wearing a red suit and a nametag that said "Fanny Yu" held a sign with four names on it, including mine ("Cohen, laurenmichelle"). Fanny Yu happened to be the most efficient transfer system ever devised. With only a cursory glance back to make sure her charges were still with her, she barreled through crowds of people, pushed her way up the escalator, and whisked us through the "crew only" security line. Boarding had already finished when we got to the plane, so I walked onto the flight someone sheepishly, feeling like I had made everyone wait. Turned out that a typhoon had hit Hong Kong and was on the way out, so we had to wait another 25 minutes before we even left the gate. While I don't have anything good to say about the food I was served on the long flight, the "snack" on the 2-hour flight was by far the best airline meal I've ever eaten. A selection of Chinese dim sum (shumai, har gao, turnip cake) and a cup of Haagen-Daz coffee ice cream. The Chinese man sitting next to me seemed surprised that I had chosen the dim sum rather than the "Western" offering of beef with pasta: "You like...Chinese food?" The TV was showing an episode of 30 Rock with subtitles, followed by an informational program about restaurants in Taiwan. I don't have the headset in, but the subtitles said that the food at one Thai restaurant was "authentic Thai flavors, not Taiwanesed Thai." I'm amused and slightly glad to know that the proclivity for watering down foreign flavors isn't a uniquely American trait. So now I'm here in Shanghai at my hostel. There was a "problem" with the single room I booked, so I currently have an 8-bed dormitory room to myself, which is odd. I'm sitting at the rooftop bar on a beautiful night. I smell dumplings, even though there's no kitchen up here. I sat up at the rooftop bar and drank a Corona, then headed out for a walk in People's Park. I found an underground shopping mall that was crowded with teenagers. I didn't buy anything, but I did play a round of Skee-ball in the arcade. I settled in for an early rest and am ready to see what the next day has in store.
