Fun? Fun living abroad?

Dear Reader,

I never got to work today! I live about a 15 minutes in traffic ride on the elevated highway to the current location of my new university employers. I was called on Friday to be at work a little before 8:30AM today when we would board the bus to take us forty-five minutes away to the main campus. As prior posts will attest in more detail, the universities have new campuses out of town.

It was raining, always a poor sign for getting a cab. But last year, even if it rained, leaving at an earlier hour to get to my school I never missed a day. I was late twice. This was a personal best, as I can be a last minute arrival person.

It may have been raining, but it was hot and I was quickly drenched in perspiration as I raced down the road, trying to flag down a cab raising one arm with a heavy load of text books or the other with Diet Cokes and purse "stuff." I walked down to the "experimental" middle school, usually a place to pick up a cab as children are dropped off. I saw a total of three cabs that had no passengers but wouldn't stop. By now I was ten minutes into my quest.

There was a small accident with two cars wedged together, however, now, rather than a parade of occupied taxis, there were none at all. No traffic was coming down from the highway nearby down my direction. In a year, this had never happened to me.

I turned down a street where there is a gym to which we belong. A lot of foreigners live in the high rise buildings behind the club and I was dishonest to a guard I asked for help when I agreed that I lived there, he triedto help me flag down a cab, but he didn't have better odds as there were none unoccuppied.

I needed to call my immediate manager Madam X (not really) but I couldn't figure out how to get to the paper on which I had her cell phone number, never having called or been called by her before. It was hard to simultaneously wave my hand and decide to go for my phone, but the phone rang. It was the Dean. Before I said "How are you?" I was recounting my situation. He wanted to leave early - it was only 8:10, twenty minutes before I'd been told to be there.

He said they'd wait for me. Almost immediately after I hung up, Madam X called, sparing me digging for her number, balancing the umbrella and bags. She agreed it wasn't my fault and that when I left earlier for regular school days I wouldn't have the problem and that I needn't come to work.

I was shaken, it wasn't a good start even if I had the day off. But, there was no substantive work for me to be doing at the campus, we were there to "set up our offices" and distribute books for the upcoming "mock IELTS" exams that I will be "invigilating" and grading later this week. When I first heard the word, I was polite but thought it wasn't real. It is, means the same as proctoring.

Got home, the cotton shell of my one and only twinset I've ever owned (not the type) was soaked. I changed and called the controller to see whether or not I could come in to sign the contract, which I'd had tweaked after two years of China experience and about ten in law offices in another life. She listened through my plaintive saga about the taxi situation. How do they know this never happened to me before?

But she'd already set up my bank account and, on Thursday when we do have students, I'll come to see her to sign the contract. As she got off the phone she started to say, "Goodbye, lao...." -- lao shr is respectful for teacher.

Within the next two hours, I did all the things I should have done this weekend! There is a point to this, if not just that it is as plain as what you do in your own country. The cleaners had disappeared from our block and I had to walk quite a way (back by the "experimental" middle school" to another, one that didn't have buttons for repairs, and hell if I know where to buy them.

For several weeks, I had promised myself a brown (laser-dyed) pearl strand with earrings since I'm wearing navy and brown more than my usual black and wine, after a trip to the "Old Navy" when in the States, where I can get clothes my size (women here may be as tall but not as wide or curvaceous for the most part.) All the cute underwear only goes up to a "B" cup to be frank.

I went to a stall in Pearl City that has beads, not pearls, but they were low on the kind I was going to use to make for a friend of my mother's who had admired mine. I went back to a woman who had made me a grey (laser dyed) baroque pearl necklace with matching earrings. For all of $10.

I consoled myself with a 120 yuan purchase of two strands ($15) made into a collarbone length strand, two matching stretch pearl bracelets and earrings with brown wood butterflies to match.

It was Mr. F's lunch hour when I was on the phone with him and could hear the same horn honking through the phone as I could here from where I was, so we met up. We talked about some glum relative matters to be resolved for a few minutes before he left to go back to work.

I walked up to "City Shop" for some Western foods and saw almost all foreign shoppers and heard American accents, even got a "hello" from another shopper, then to the exceptional Dutch bakery before I came home. W. was already here. She comes three times a week to do our wash (there are no dryers, just spinners and then wash is hung to dry. Everywhere.) She cooks us a vegetarian dinner. We're not strictly veg but it has been the healthier solution than some of the very bony fish or oily meat dishes she made.

She's from Anhui, as many people working around our neighborhood, very personable but businesslike, and someone I like having around because she is so straightforward and friendly. I've mentioned that the next provinces to Shanghai are so different in that they are defined by almost economic opposition, while Shanghai is phat, there is so much rural poverty that many people like W come here to work and send money home.

W. cooked some green pumpkin (I'd never seen it before and it looks green on the outside but orange flesh on the inside and it has a rich, dense slight sweetness if you enjoy squash.) She made eggs and tomatos and a green that we really don't like but feel we should eat.

So, for those who think expat living is all luxury, it IS better for us than how we lived before, AND WE ENJOY THAT WITHOUT FORGETTING OUR FORTUNE, but we are the working expats. And that means, depending on taxis when there aren't enough, doing errands in a different language, etc. We aren't tourists, we live here. This is our life, for better or worse, this is not a temporary situation nor a vacation, but a fascinating challenge.