Arrival in Shanghai, Pt. I: Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

After 18 hours of travel, three airports, two plane rides, and one “The Undertaker” sighting, I arrived at Shanghai’s Pudong International Airport at around 2 pm local time on a warm but breezy Sunday. Exiting the plane, I certainly appreciated the chance to stretch my legs after the long ride. And though I was once again hauling my monster backpack around, my shoulders also appreciated the change of scene, as they had just spent the better part of a day sandwiched between a plane window and a scrawny Chinese kid, who, despite his narrow frame, somewhat bafflingly managed to infringe upon my personal space for the entire plane ride.

As I regained circulation in my legs and shoulders, the physical trauma from my trip began to subside. Getting over the emotional difficulties of leaving home however, would not prove so easy. Traveling alone to the other side of the world, to a new, unfamiliar city, tearfully leaving behind loved ones, and trying to get some sleep while contorting my shoulder into positions that would make a Yogi cringe do not leave a person in the best of spirits. Making my way through Pudong International, the quiet atmosphere did not do much to shake me out of my funk.

This has been one surprising consistency of my travels in China, albeit a very limited experience: eerily quiet airports. Perhaps it’s only in my head, perhaps it’s the physical and emotional exhaustion that comes with the trip numbing me to my surroundings, or perhaps my experience has just been particularly unusual, but I find Chinese airports to be bizarrely calm. You’d think that in one of the world’s most bustling metropolises, in the world’s most populated country, the airports would be unmitigated chaos: Chinese travelers and foreign tourists weaving back and forth through a sea of people and luggage, cell phone conversations and cigarette smoke, hurrying from one point to another. On the contrary, I feel like I might as well have landed in a museum.

I get my luggage and clear customs without hassle, still contemplating why I find the airport so surprisingly relaxing. I find the whole country relaxing for that matter. Maybe it has something to do with the immense size of the place. Be it the airport or the country itself, the overwhelming size of the environment just might detract from or distract from the craziness within. It also might just be really hard to feel stressed out wearing corduroys and Birkenstocks.
Exiting into the Arrivals area, I turn my attention to more pressing matters: I need to find Apple Peng. EF (my company) has sent Apple to meet me at the airport and take me to my hotel, where I will be based for the better part of the next two weeks until I find more permanent residence. I push my luggage along, trying to locate a sign with my name on it in the crowd. I see no sign. I am prepared for such an occasion.

I hunt down the nearest phone and use the phone card and phone number provided to me to reach Apple. The good news is she’s at the airport. After another quick round of hide and seek, we finally find each other. She has brought a friend to help carry my bags…just kidding. I can leave airport, and if I'm lucky, I'll get to ride the bullet train!

When I booked my flight to Shanghai, I had the choice to arrive at Pudong International or the city’s other airport, Hongqiao. I elected to arrive through Pudong because I read about the high-speed maglev train that connects that airport to the main city. I figured it was the primary way to travel to and from the airport and was looking forward to the experience. The experience would have to wait another day. Apple and her mystery friend lead me out to the cab port.

To be continued…