An RMB Saved is an...

ATM machines are always polite, asking if you mind extra fees and never hesitating to take no for an answer, but the ones here in Shanghai are extra thoughtful. They say, "Please take cash and advice."

My advise, sadly, looked a lot like a receipt, but I couldn't tell for sure: it was in Chinese.

Tonight I walked back to my "magnificent" hotel through People's Square. There were four benches enclosing a tree at the southeast corner. On one, a young couple kissed desperately. On the bench next to theirs, a prone beggar perspired in the heat.

My hotel room has no chair, only a stool. The last hotel room I was in that had no chair was in Corpus Christi. Since I'm staying here for a few days, I decided to liberate a chair from the hotel restaurant. I'd have made it, too, if the elevator hadn't taken so long to reach the third floor that a waitress spotted me. I was duly reprimaned.

Later I decided to go by the book and asked the front desk for a chair. Smiles and nods all around. When I got back later in the day, they had delivered a second stool.

Now, if you mount two stools together and stick a pillow between them, you do sort of get a chair. And the air conditioning works. Also, there's a street full of yummy food stalls nearby--today I ate a fresh egg wrap for 2 RMB, or about 25 cents. So I'm not complaining.

Speaking of food, though, I had the best salad of my life (seriously) at a place called the Coffee Beanery near one of the schools I visited this morning, in Pudong. (The Coffee Beanery shouldn't be mistaken for the Coffee Bean, which also operates stores here in Shanghai.) Their so-called "Hawaiian Salad" was a Caesar plus pineapple, fresh chicken bits, and crunchy nuts. It was weird to eat something knowing that any salad I ate in the future would either be the best salad of my life or not as good as this one.

Alas, I doubt we'll be seeing any Coffee Beaneries opening up in California, unless they change their name--preferably to something other than the Tea Leafery.

Throughout the day, I've been editing Dean Webb's "Rest of Us" guide to Chinese history; if at any point the PRC confiscates my computer and finds the file, I might end up writing the sequel to One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich instead.

Kowloon by 'loonlight

I'll admit I don't know as much about the world as I would like to. For instance, yesterday, shortly before procuring pajamas for my former Spanish teacher's grandchildren, I rediscovered that Ottawa is the capital of Canada. I feel like I discover that fact periodically, then forget it again.

In a similar way, I'm embarassed to admit that I had no idea Kowloon was in Hong Kong until I reserved a hotel here: the Ramada, which is generously described as "rustic."

I've been to a lot of Asian cities by now, and a lot of them share the "welcome to the future" aesthetic. Huge neon signs, enormous shopping malls, talking toilets, etc. But passing through Hong Kong on the train, then Kowloon on a bus, I really felt as if I'd shown up in a different century. It was New York washed in halogen and brimming with mostly Chinese people and with shops still open at 11 on a Sunday night--clothing, electronics, espresso. Buildings towered so high over narrow streets that I felt completely enclosed. A city in a cavern, with rooftops in space and lots of ATM machines.

---

I fully recommend Team of Rivals as the single best biography I've ever read.

You're Welcome

A man here in the Cathay Pacific lounge (where I'm camped out drinking tea and editing) just stopped one of the employees in front of the magazine stand.

"Is there wireless here?" he demanded, in a very pleasant British accent.

"Yes," said the employee.

"Does it require a password?"

"No, sir," said the employee.

The man walked away to rejoin his travel companion, a woman in a scarf.

"You're welcome," said the employee, softly.

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"You're Welcome" was also the title of one of my favorite fifth season episodes of Angel, in which Cordelia briefly returns to help Angel to find his way.

Move Over, Mountain View

In fact, move over Seoul, too. The streets of Taipei have been fully "wiflied" by an ISP called WiFly, with funding from the city government. What's more, you can even roam the network using a Boingo account, though it turns out the service costs 12 cents a minute. I wish that the fine print explaining that had been in English before I blissfully used the network for five hours. Today, I've wisened up. I bought a one-day WiFly account for 100 New Taiwan Dollars (about $3 U.S.) If your path brings you to Taiwan, I recommend one. You'll be able to surf the web on taxicabs. Today, I'll try it on the subway.

It Was Only Ten Days

...and I spent the last three mostly writing my thesis. But it was something on the first night of my spring break in Taiwan that led me back to NTU today. Our hosts had taken us out for snacks at the various food stalls. We wandered in a large group, down to a street that forked at about a 45 degree angle. There was a minimart near the corner, and stinky tofu nearby. I'm not sure why I remembered that particular spot. But this morning, as I rode in a taxi to meet with the Bethany School about joining Scholar's Cup, I looked up from my laptop and saw it.

I felt that quick tingle of recognition as past and present geographies matched in my head. I timidly glanced to the right at the next intersection, glimpsed some palm trees. That was a second clue. NTU is the Stanford of Southeast Asia.

The counselor I met at the the Bethany school confirmed it: we were just a couple blocks away from the university's main entrance. After our meeting she let me me out the school's gate. As we crossed the blacktop one student asked her if she had a date. "August 25," she answered. Then a giant steel grating rolled up and out I went to Roosevelt Street.

Within a block I had passed a dark-haired man making Middle Eastern sandwiches. I remembered him; he spoke English with a French accent. A little further and there was Dante Coffee: Dante, where I'd tried to write my thesis but mostly written in this blog. And within a few hundred meters of Dante was the front gate to NTU.

Palm trees lined it. Students were biking in and out. Girls walked with umbrellas. I stood next the giant campuis map where I once asked someone if I could borrow her cell phone. I felt the flutter of an inappropriate nostalgia. I was here not ten years ago, but one and a few meager months. For some reason it felt like I was visiting a place much older in my life.

I crossed campus, poking my head in the room where once, I screamed like Howard Dean. Microphones lined all the tables this time. I snapped a photograph and in my head I photoshopped in everyone I'd gotten to know here. Our welcome breakfast too.

I walked on. The building next door to our dorm now featured a Japanese tea shop and various other restaurants. The Seven-Eleven that had sprung up there overnight had apparently been only the beginning of a larger renovation.

The dorm was mostly unchanged--even the computers were the same, in the lobby. I borrowed one to check my e-mail. The puzzled security guard objected at first, then relented when I pointed toward the stairs and said, "I stayed there." If only it were always that easy.

Not too far away, Jon and David had once stood on a table to make their closing remarks. Presumably, another HCAP group had visited since, and other closing remarks been spoken.

I'm not sure why this last year has felt so--long. I suppose it's a blessing that years feel long: it promises at least the illusion of a longer life.

To end on a less melancholy note, tonight I'll be having dinner with several of the HCAP alumni--Buddy and Tina for sure, and maybe others too. Looking forward to it. Yesterday, I saw Chuan-Mei (and devastated her bathroom)--so this trip has been a nice combination of Scholar's Cup meetings, farce (see "Down the Drain") and reunions with old friends.

Down the Drain

Last night, in my frantic packing for a flight to Taiwan, I dropped my new cell phone in the toilet.

I'll try to post more tomorrow. But a brief recap: I rushed from Taipei airport to the city of Taechng, where I saw Chuan-Mei for breakfast, then worked at a Starbucks tucked in the lingerie section of a local K-mart clone until my meeting at a local high school, Morrison Academy. I was there to invite it to join the Scholar's Cup. It went well! Several students attended, including one who claimed to have competed in the Nevada Academic Decathlon. As Nevada hasn't fielded a team in several years, I was puzzled, but decided not to protest.