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July 4, 2006…Shanghai boasts that it has the tallest buildings in all of China and will soon have finished the largest building in the world, yet when you turn your head from the huge, modern crane towering above you, what a surprise it is to see a huge pile of bamboo scaffolding in the corner of the construction site, patiently waiting for someone to use it! Intermingled between the steel beams and metal are rows of bamboo scaffolding tied up rather randomly with some tired looking grey duct tape and some random colored cording, yet it does look surprisingly strong, secure and safe. Not sure whether I would feel comfortable 6 stories up walking across that scaffolding!
We were spending the day exploring the many historical and cultural sites of Shanghai, lots of walking which gives one a real sense of life in this amazing city. As we stopped to wait for a traffic light, I looked to the right and stopped for a few moments to watch a few construction workers, working in an empty construction lot lodged between two skyscrapers. The two workers were moving a pile of wooden rubble from one section of the lot to another. There were no gloves on their hands and they were using no machinery, just their hands, picking up the debris one piece at a time. They must not have been concerned about cutting their hands or getting slivers because their hands were exposed. I never even work in my flower garden without gloves for fear of bacteria and cuts. They were a young man and a young woman in their twenties working side by side, no hurry, just working till the job was done, while the crane moved slowly up above. I couldn’t imagine anyone in our country not using tools, or a wheel barrow or some piece of equipment to move the pile. It’s so ironic to see Shanghai, a city that has hosts the most cranes in the world, yet they still hold onto their simple ways and techniques for getting a job done. The age old traditions of the past are everywhere in Shanghai, evenly dispersed with the current trends and technological advances. Amidst the new construction, the towering skyscrapers, the cranes and the bamboo, one can still see the vivid domestic chores that the people in Shanghai still face, the laundry! The people here still dry their clothing on hangers along the edges of windows, over the doorways and along the molding of the building. Yes, there is even laundry hanging along the bamboo scaffolding as the crane slowly moves by!
Yes, all the images we brought with us to Shanghai could not have prepared me for the beauty of this city! Yes, I expected the neon lights, the flashing glitzy signs, the congested streets, the smoke filled rooms but was welcomed instead with the Bund, a beautiful Shanghai that had peacefulness to it. Yes, the lights were flashing brightly at night, lots of tiny bright, blue lights, like the kind we might use to decorate our Christmas trees here in the states. These tiny glistening lights were strung across rows and rows of trees, lining the streets. The neon lights were flashing everywhere, yet there was peacefulness as I watched the barges gently floating along the Huangpu River and the people stopping along the promenade to stop and chat, taking in the cities beauty. On my first full day in Shanghai, I woke up at 3:30 Am, awake and ready to start my day! Yes, I was still suffering from jet lag, but there was no fighting it any longer, I had to get up. Our group of twenty or so educators from the United States, all traveling together for a 3 week study tour, was staying at the infamous Peace Hotel, across the street from the Bund, the spectacular promenade that runs alongside the Huangpu River. My roommate was still fast asleep, how I envied her. I rolled out of bed, turned the desk lamp on and began a letter to my husband. I had overheard several women in our group last night discussing an early morning jog along the Bund, planning to meet at 5:30AM in the lobby. I was anxious to get outside and stroll around the city before our group began its day of excursions so I dressed in exercise clothing and went down to the sleepy lobby. There was no activity in the lobby, just a bellhop have asleep in a large cushioned chair, stationed by the front door. I walked around the lobby for a while and poked my head out the front door, but no one else was around. The street was coming alive, people walking by, cars in traffic, so I decided to venture out the front door and look around at the corner. I could see the Bund, just on the other side of the street, bustling at 5:45AM with people. Since the women in my group had obviously overslept I decided to venture on myself, crossing the street when the traffic had briefly stopped and running up the steps to the Bund. It was still so early in the morning, I expected to see maybe a few straggling joggers, but was I wrong. The Bund was alive! It was filled with people, enjoying the cool air of the morning, jogging, walking, flying kites, and exercising. But the people weren’t only the youth like we’d see in America, those in their 20′s, stealing some exercise before heading to work, instead they were middle-aged, yes, over 50! There were many different activities going on, from Tai Chi, to kite flying, to moms pushing strollers to ballroom dancing. Yes, ballroom dancing on the Bund at 5:45 Am! I found myself stopping and watching the myriad of activities going on. This was not what I had expected! I sat on a low brick wall and watched several couples ballroom dancing while the boon box placed on the ground close by, softly played. I had never seen such beauty and peace in the center of a bustling city, dancing on the sidewalk. I was smiling, taking it all in, when a woman about 50 walked away from the music and extended her hand to me, inviting me to dance with her. I laughed and accepted her initiation and we danced, arm in arm, along the Bund. I was nervous and felt like I had 3 feet, occasionally stepping on her small feet, but I felt alive! I ran up the steps to see what else the Bund had to offer. This time I found a group of woman, various ages, working out in a large oval group, to again a blasting boon box, strategically placed in the middle of the sidewalk. I stood over to the side, smiling, watching, so happy to see these woman enjoying the beauty of the morning when again, a woman left the group and motioned me to join them. I stood towards the back and tried hard to follow the aerobic like moves they were doing. For years and years, through the late 70’s and 80’s I had gone to the gym and done various aerobic classes, so I decided to step into the group and try. I again felt so alive! Here we were virtual strangers, beginning our day together, no language just movement. I loved it when they started passing out various props for various songs. My favorite prop was the red fan, twisting my wrist back and forth across my body, opening and closing the fan to the beat! Exhilarating! I had never done anything like this before, it was beautiful and magical even though I really didn’t know what I was doing but I was trying and loving every single moment!
At one point I looked over and saw several of the women who were part of our American group, watching our aerobic-like dance. They had all finally got up and out and were too exploring the Bund’s activities this beautiful morning. One of the woman said’ hey, there’s Susan’. They turned, they looked and then they all smiled. I waved and waved them all to join us, but no one did. I felt such an inner joy and a deep peaceful connection to the Chinese people. We hadn’t needed to speak but to move our bodies, gracefully, feeling the beat and letting all inhibitions run free. Delightful!
It was getting close to 7:30AM and I knew I needed to get back to the hotel, to shower and to grab some quick breakfast. This time, I bounced down the steps and headed towards the edge of the boulevard, crossing when there was a break in the traffic. The smile on my face was embedded and I was sure everyone could see how happy I was. I entered the Peace Hotel, took the elevator up to our floor and walked in my room. My roommate Kathy asked me ‘where have you been? I’ve been worried’. I looked at her and told her of one of the best mornings of my life, how I experienced Shanghai that morning. She laughed and laughed. Although I had just meet Kathy hours ago, we too bonded that day and for the next three weeks she became a very dear friend, a confidant, and someone I shared many of my favorite moments in China with. She has a kind, gentle spirit and a contagious laugh. People often ask me how I can travel for weeks at a time on a fellowship or grant with strangers. I always tell them that most of the people I’ve met over the last ten years have a drive, a desire to venture on and explore, and they are often filled too with great spirits and gentle understandings. I can honestly say that most of the time I have been very blessed and have treasured the many educators that I’ve traveled with and gotten to know. Like me they too are on a quest!
July 25, 2007
Dearest Jay!
Departed from Newington at 1pm traveling to JFK by ways of ‘Creative Transportation’, a service utilized by the World Affairs Council in Hartford. There was a lot of traffic getting there but we really made pretty good time, arriving at JFK at 3:30pm. Check in was quick and uneventful allowing us plenty of time to sit and relax and talk. Amy, Megan, Marilyn, Maria and I had lots of stories to tell. Marilyn has lots of worries, I am alittle concerned but know she’ll make it through!
We boarded the plane around 6:30 but sat on the runway until 7:50, a long delay. Drinks and hazelnuts were served and dinner shortly after. First taste of Mediterranean fare, two shrimp with alittle eggplant salad, green salad, cheese, roll, chicken, rice and great veggies served with the regions spices. White wine was served. Yum!
Love the Turkish Airlines! Seats recline and push forward giving one a needed space to relax. Each person receives a small pouch with a handle, that contains- eye mask to block out sleep, a comb, a shoehorn (who ever uses them anymore), socks. Toothpaste and a toothbrush.. All you need for a restful, clean flight!
Each seat has its own little TV screen on the back of the seat in front of you. There are a variety of movies to choose from, games to play and news hot off the press. Great choices too!
You can either ‘touch the screen’ for interactive or use a remote control that rests on the side of your seat.
It was really interesting watching the screen at take off! You had the sensation of moving up into the sky by watching a video screen, watching as it soared over water, wild. I guess its like an interactive game but you’re playing the part for real, seated there, at the mercy of the pilot! Strange sensation for sure.
It’s about 10:30pm and yes, I’m sleeping. I took ½ lorazapan to help with the anxiety and its making me sleepy. According to the flight schedule on the screen it will be a 9 hour flight? We’ll just have to see…
Slept on and off for probably about 4 hours, waking up because my arm or leg was asleep and stiff. Enjoying being on a comfortable plane. though with turquoise colored seats, more roomy, though a smaller planes with seats of 2, 4, 2. There are actually a few empty seats on the plane and a few lucky flyers are stretched out vertically across four seats, so lucky! I remember flying home from Russia in 1992 and had that luxury. Once in a lifetime that was probably my only chance.! Woke up groggy, sleepy and a little nauseous but pleasantly surprised that there was less than 3 hours to go!
Amway in Amasya!
I was traveling through Turkey on a Fellowship with twenty four educators from all over the United States! We spent seventeen days traveling over 2,100 miles by bus, getting lots of glimpses into the various regions the country had to offer. I was not only so fortunate to have been selected for this opportunity but loved each and every stop and adventure. I sat on the lengthy bus rides, doing one of two things: looking out the window, not wanting to miss anything or recording on my laptop the images I was seeing! It was my first trip to Turkey and I felt like a child in a candy shop, each and every moment a treat.
Just before arriving in Amasya I glanced at the guidebook to see what this city had to offer. We were on such a wild rollercoaster tour, stopping and touring so many sites and cities, it was difficult at times to prepare for our next site. Guidebooks always help to fill in the gaps and give you enough background info to get started on the learning. Our travel agenda said ‘Museum’. I climbed off the bus ready to explore!
I usually tried to stay at the front of the line when our group of almost thirty weaves in and out of various cities and historical locations so I that I can capture as much as I can on videotape. Our large group I came to eventually discover had a member of the Turkish team always strategically placed at the back of the group, just in case anyone dawdled or got lost. That was very easy to do, especially if I was videotaping. I’d often want to get at the back of the group so I could film the scene minus any teachers in our group who were always armed heavy with cameras and like me ‘clicking’ away trying to capture the moment. If I stayed at the back of the group, I stood a chance of capturing the scene, most naturally as possible, as the group moved forward, but of course this meant that I had to move fast and quickly. Yes, it would make much better footage if there were no American tourists in the scene. I could then show others the side of Turkey that I saw.
As we strolled down the most beautiful street, Yesilirmak (Iris) River and mountain on my right, we turned down a narrow street lined on both sides with traditional Turkish Ottoman wooden mansions, white wooden houses with dark brown trim and roofs. This village is tucked between the ancient cliffs and the Yesilirmak River, narrow and curving road and paths, crisp and clean. It was spectacular!
We stragglers at the end of the group were taking it all in! One of the women in the group asked our Turkish guide what the sign said located just above one of the white and brown doorways. She translated, ‘This house has been turned into a woman’s teahouse’. We all stopped to talk about this, how different it was in America, but again we were in a country rooted with strong Muslim values. Someone in the group asked if we could go in? She smiled and quickly pulled out here cell phone and made a call. She said ‘Serhan, her boss and our main travel guide, had said we could go in for 10 minutes, no more! And we were to meet him at the mosque at the end of the street.’ We were thrilled! At last we were going to be given an opportunity to experience Turkey ‘off the beaten path!’.
We entered the dwelling, climbing a set of stairs and entered the tea house. There was a group of about 5 women sitting by the window overlooking the beautiful river below, sipping tea. They smiled and asked the 5 of us to sit and we too were served tea. The women were between 40 and 55 years old, full of smiles and asking our Turkish guide lots of questions. I glanced down on the table and saw catalogues of Amway and quickly realized that these women were meeting and discussing Amway, as distributors of this American conglomeration. Wow! What were the odds of this! They asked if we too love Amway, and not wanting to crush their balloon, we all agreed that ‘yes, Amway was a fine company!’ We continued to ask each other various questions through our translator. “Did we work? Did we have families? And how old were we?” We laughed and felt a strong connection to our new Turkish friends. None of us wanted to leave, but our guide was getting very nervous and after at least 20 minutes she graciously told the group that we must leave and we must hurry. Just about running down the street, we reached our group. Our leader, Serhan, started yelling at our guide, of course in Turkish, so we don’t really know what he said, but we all felt it was worth the looks we were getting from the others for keeping the group waiting. It truly was one of the best personal experiences that I had in Turkey, connecting to a small group of woman, sipping tea and sharing brief histories of our lives. Yes, women are women no matter where they are from. Smiles, hugs and sipping tea have connected us forever!
Letter to my husband, Jay:
Today we visited a village school and a large group of young children greeted us at the gate with the principal. School is not in session since it is still summer but they had walked over from their houses, located right next to the school, smiling, giggling, happy to be practicing their English. I reached forward towards two children, probably about seven and walked hand in hand with them both, a young girl and boy and we headed towards the school. The Principal was at the entrance to the school, welcoming us to his village and giving us some background information on the history of his school. We walked into the brick building, with our entourage of teachers, tour guides and village students. The first classroom was equipped with lots of computer and filled with young boys and girls playing various games on the desktops. They turned and smiled. Since it was summer they had no assignments that they were working on, so they were enjoying the computers, gaming. This room was modern and up to date. We entered another classroom that took me right back intime. This small classroom was filled with some older wooden table desks that looked like something you’d see in early America, stark, simple yet functional. In the back of the room was a small iron wood stove, yes, we would never see a wood stove in a classroom in America. No rail or protection kept the students and the stove separate. I sat at the table and invited the two children I had in tow to join me. We tried to communicate but they were young and very limited with English, so we smiled, hugged and posed for photos. Every room in the school had a poster of Ataturk, the 1st President of the New Turkish Republic. Turkey is filled with huge, bold images of Ataturk, still trying hard to hold onto his ideology for their nation.
Wanting to document with my video camera some examples of daily life in Turkey I decided to wander outside of the school. At first I was simply planning on filming close ups of the village, hoping to capture families at work and children at play. I walked behind the school, jumped over a small rock wall and headed to the closest home. I was so pleased to see Amy, a fellow American teacher in our group, talking to some village people. There was a husband, his wife,dressed in a peasant style dress and headscarf, and a college niece visiting her relatives. They were working in a small building running electric cotton machines. Again cotton is grown in this area and I was fascinated. I asked to see the process, translating being done through the niece, and they walked me into the room where the cotton machines were loud and working hard. They were huge and I was amazed that such equipment was part of a families home. In the West a machine like this would never be found in a home, but in a building leased as industrial. Here it was a part of their daily life. They grew the cotton on their land and twisted the fibers into a fine white thread. They gave me some cotton flax threads and tore off an unbleached piece of cotton to give me. You would think they’d have given me a grand treasure. I was so excited! The woman, dressed in traditional village garb, long baggy pantaloons (pants) colored brightly and patterned, along with a long sleeve colorful shirt and head wrapped in a scarf, tied several times aound her neck. She smiled and we share a deep hug and several kisses on the cheek, lovely! Although we had spoken only brief sentences through their neice, I know we both felt the love and connection. The husband, about my age, shook hands firmly with me and smiled. I didn’t want to leave them, but I knew it was probably getting late and that the group would be soon leaving. I was right and in trouble. As we left the couple, Amy and I headed back to the school and noticed there was no one there. We ran down the well worn path towards the schools front gate and saw our bus filled with lots of faces looking out the window at us. As part of a group I always tried not to be the ‘last’ one getting on the bus, the one that kept the bus waiting, but now I was it! We appologiezed to our travel guide and headed towards the back of the bus, head down like a reprimanded child, with our cotton flax threads and muslin sheet in our hands. As we sat down, quickly, I overhead a few people in our group spouting, ‘and they even went shopping!’. Oh, if they only knew what a warm, Turkish welcome we had received. So yes, we did keep the bus waiting for 5 minutes, but it was well worth the comments and now I’ll try hard over the next few days, anyways, not to be the last one on the bus!
