Chinese Stole My Sanitizer

Hi. This is the first real post. Sitting in my apartment in Wuhan. The lighting in here is a little oppressive, as the Chinese seemingly don't value fancy fixtures. But then the Chinese don't value a lot of things, such as courtesy, efficiency, traffic laws, etc. Then again, I'm not really in a position to judge. I've only been in the country long enough to grab a couple of meals and go grocery shopping (which was quite the crapshoot, since you sort of have to assume that what you're buying really is what the crazy Chinese label suggests).

Above is a sign from the supermarket, the first in what I hope will be a long line of hilarious lessons in Chinglish. From here, I went down a ramped escalator, where the store solicited my patronage with the syntactical nightmare, "WELCOME HERE. HOPE YOUR HAPPY PURCHASE." I appreciate the sentiment, so I think I'll shop there again.

Going back a little bit, the three flights I took to get here were interesting. I think they add up to about 18 hours. Tokyo was 12 and sunny the whole way due to the plane's heliosynchronicity, which is a word I just made up. By the time I arrived, it was at least a day later, so I must've lost 12 hours of my life somewhere in there. I'm told I'll get it back on the return trip.

The airports were all very nice, and it turns out that airports and airplanes are all pretty much the same. To quote Bon Jovi, "only the names will change." The international terminal at Beijing Airport was really new, and there were still many olympic banners. I included a picture of some stuff from the Tokyo snack shop--pocky, with which some people back home are familiar, and koala yummies, which, I hope, everyone will remember. If you don't, you missed out.

Other things that stand out about the trip:

The Japanese guy next to me on the plane, who must've had narcolepsy, mono, or a combination of the two, because he slept the whole way, even while he was eating.

The cab driver in Beijing, who ignored all traffic lights, signs, and concerns for anyone's safety. It was amazing. I don't think he even realized the roads were marked.

The hotel shower, which was a glorified hose on the wall and, once used, flooded the bathroom with freezing cold water. There was no tub, no divider, just a drain that didn't drain.

The Beijing Airport security personnel, who seized my backpack repeatedly and nearly caused me to miss my flight. Apparently, they don't know what deodorant and hand sanitizer are, which explains why China is dirty.

My shorts, which caught on a door jamb on the way to lunch and ripped like tissue paper. Don't worry, I have another pair. Somewhere in Wuhan, there is a restaurant staff that thinks it's fashionable in America to wear shorts with gaping holes.

My shower curtain, which looked from the packaging to be polka-dotted, but is actually covered in blonde women assuming various poses. Also, I have a Mickey Mouse towel.

That's about all I feel like writing for now. I'm gonna go figure out the important things to know about China before I talk more. It's very strange, though. Very, very different. And a whole lot more real now than it was standing in O'Hare. Right up until the end, I tried to ignore it, minimalize it, brush it off. My way of coping, I suppose. There are probably better, more reassuring ways of going about it. But if I'm bad at saying goodbye, it's because, in my head, I'll be back in no time.