jeff yen

6.5, Shanghai (again)

After another reluctant departure from Wuhan, I am back in Shanghai. Site of my first meal in China, and subsequently the most boring duration of time I've spent anywhere in China so far -- and that includes the 30 hours I've spent on trains between Chongqing and Wuhan.

Arriving this morning at about 7am -- my dad arrived at 6:40am, so we were probably in the station at the same time, just without knowing it -- I was crammed into the number 1 metro line for a ride to People's Square, where Yang Guang had booked me into a nearby hostel. After a sweaty search, I was rewarded with a cool lobby and an airless, humid room occupied by a paunchy, florid American named Wesley. We made small talk -- he's spent time near San Diego, has been in China for two days, and is apparently already starved for American company -- and then I was off to shower and prep for what I expected to be a somewhat nerve-wracking lunch with my father.

Skipping the boring details, we ended up finding a Xiao Yang Sheng Jien Bao -- or Yang's Fry Dumplings -- location on Nanjing Lu near the hostel, so no need to trek all the way down to Wujiang Lu for a taste of soupy, porky, steamed and then pan-fried incredible goodness.

Shockingly, I actually had a pretty good time, and it seemed like my dad did, too. I hardly know what to say. I don't think we've ever spent that much time together without having some kind of disagreement, or some discussion that left a pall over the whole thing. But the afternoon was actually entirely pleasant.

Astonishing.

He was pleased at my unexpected proficiency (poor as it is) in Chinese, and amused by my attempt at a beard. He also seemed much more relaxed, as if he too was affected by my strange feeling of being at home in China. He always seems jittery and uncomfortable in the States; even on vacation as a child, I remember him being like a broken flourescent light, constantly buzzing and flickering... never at peace. But today he seemed... quieter. Smoother, somehow. Like distance from the States had sanded away some of his rough edges.

The only part of the afternoon I regret was when upon parting, my father turned to me and said, "You know... there are many nice girls here in China."

Keep in mind, this is a man with whom I have never discussed relationships. For all he knows, I've never even shaken hands with a woman. I was dreading a repetition of a discussion I had with my mother a few years ago.

After a routine phone call she asked me, "So... any girls?"

I said, as I always did -- regardless of the actual state of matters -- "Nope."

There was a slight pause, and I could already see what was coming.

"Uh... any... boys?"

Face in hand, I replied: "NO, Mom."

She laughed, and passed it off as a joke, but to think I might have to repeat the moment with my father was nearly more than I could bear.

Luckily, he took my chuckle and "I know, dad," as a suitable response, and dropped the subject.

Tonight, I'm having dinner with Anna (aka Gu Fang), a friend I met in Hangzhou, and Jeff Ow, a Singaporean friend from Wuhan.

Not really anything else to say; lots of notes in my journal, but no time to write entries yet.

But at least now everyone knows that, for a moment or two, my mother thought I was gay.

Awesome.

Oh, also, after listening politely to my stories about the awesome food here in Shanghai, Wesley had lunch at McDonald's and dinner at Subway. The guy's super nice, but honestly... there's no helping some people.