Shanghai and Xitang: Fairyland

We took a slow sleeper train to Shanghai instead of one of the lightning fast bullet trains we usually preferred during our China travels. Our sleeper carried us fifteen hours across the country through an evening, a restless night, and an early morning. In the evening, I sat on a small foldout seat across from our bunk room and studied the folds and crags of the Chinese countryside until it was too dark to see anymore. In the night, I slept restless in the small space we shared with two young Chinese women. I remember the English name of one—Emily—and the Chinese name of the other—Li Li. In the morning I woke, relieved the night was over, to dress in the room with mirrors and sinks at the end of our train car, located right next to the knee-banging train car bathroom.

Shanghai greeted us with rain, a friendly atmosphere, and an extra-high percentage of English speakers. We looked for a Wal-Mart where Chad could buy more camera cards, but our Google Maps had lied and there was no Wal-Mart, only a busy street with many stores and and an occasional college student wandering past. We happened upon a small open storefront piled high with used electronics, a circle of men standing and talking in front of it in that relaxed way familiar only to men, and there Chad found all the camera cards he needed.

Our usual mode of transportation within the Chinese cities was taxi, since taxis are convenient and easy for non-Mandarin speakers to operate. But most Chinese nationals our age prefer Didi—a word which means “little brother” and which works very much as Uber works in the States. In Shanghai, Chad tried his Didi app for the first time and conjured up a young man in a shiny red car who drove us to the Waitan waterfront for the whopping fee of 32 American cents.

Also known as the Bund, this picturesque waterfront houses many centers of international business and is a popular spot for tourists, for lovers, and for photos.

Our stay in Shanghai was short, since that same afternoon we caught a bullet train to Xitang. At the train station, we had a second story overlook and a little time to kill, so Chad got a great photo.

When I was younger, I wanted to visit Venice more than any other place in the world.

Xitang, an ancient Chinese water town, was an excellent substitute.

Although “real people” live and work here, it is a tourist haven, and we paid a fee just to enter the town.

In Xitang, I enjoyed a couple of the most relaxed and dreamy days of my life. I spent hours walking along the canals, wandering from little shop to little shop buying useless but irresistible souvenirs to take home to my family, sitting in a green-grassed corner somewhere and watching the world go by.

Our first evening in Xitang, we stopped at this little restaurant and pointed to a dish on the big menu board which looked comfortingly familiar—fried rice.

The charm of Xitang in early nightfall only grew.

My short calligraphy class in Xian had stimulated a fascination with the art, and we stopped at this calligrapher’s spot to ask him to write my name. He did not know how to write “Lucinda” in Mandarin, so using our Google translator, we instructed him to write the meaning of my name: “woman who has brought light and joy.” He was puzzled but compliant.

While I slept that night, Chad returned to Xitang to take more photos. Beforehand, I had fully intended to go with him to see the town at night, but night drugged me with a sleep potion, and I hadn’t told him to wake me up.