We are sitting on the plane having just finished a delicious brunch of dim sum, with arrival in Hong Kong only 45 minutes away. Here are a few random thoughts on Shanghai before switching gears to Burma.
Courtesy of dear friend Bob Rothstein, self-described ancient merchant mariner: Shanghaied is a nautical term. Ship’s in Shanghai’s harbor were always short on crew, so they sent out officers to “recruit” new sailors. The officers would cruise the bars and opium dens and when a guy was sufficiently “out” he was brought on the ship. By the time the guy was sufficiently sober, the vessel was on high sea and voila he became a sailor! He was in fact, “Shanghaied.”
Thank you Bob!
The Chinese language never fails to astound me. Since there is no similarity between Chinese and English, one is completely dependent on translations or helpful bi-linguals to get along. All the hotels have cards that say in English and Chinese, “Please take me to XYZ Hotel” with address and phone number. You then protect this card at all costs because to lose it would mean you would not get back to your hotel unless you were rescued by some other kind bi-lingual. You can’t just say “Mansion Hotel” because they wouldn’t understand the name in English. The taxi drivers not only speak no English, they don’t speak at all--not a single one of our drivers uttered so much as one word, to my memory. They would look at the card and drive, stop at the destination, take the money which is registered on the meter, and leave, sometimes with a small bow, sometimes not. Cabs are plentiful and cheap though and we never had to wait for even a minute before hailing one. We would ask Emilio or another bi-lingual at our hotel to write in Chinese where we were going--Yu Garden, People’s Square, etc--and if that wasn’t practical we would point to the destination on the map and hope for the best. It is also amazing to watch them write in Chinese is another amazing thing. So many intricate lines and squiggles! If I were 30 or 40 years younger I would study Mandarin Chinese if for no other reason than to unlock its mysteries.
People watching is a favorite pastime for Tom and I. Among the hordes of people of course there are many children. Everywhere we noticed that children were being cared for by grandparents, and rarely by parents or nannies. The parents are no doubt both working, and nannies are not only too expensive, but it would be considered unseemly to allow strangers to watch the kids. Usually the families all live together, children, parents and grandparents, and built-in babysitters are a convenient by-product of that arrangement.
We also noticed that the elders are treated with great respect. In restaurants especially, when a family comes in, the elders are seated first, gently and with great care, their coats removed and put aside and care taken to make them comfortable. I noticed one family where the grandmother, who was in a wheelchair, had three younger families members hovering over her and seeing to her comfort throughout the meal.
Time to pack up and land!
Now we are sitting in the Bangkok airport waiting for our flight to Yangon, the third flight of the day. Tomorrow, we are joining a group of a mere eight people, including us, and I’m sure we will find them congenial. We received a list with their names and as far as I can tell there are two other married couples, a single lady and a single gentleman, all close to our age. I deduced this through my investigative powers which I will not go into here. This is the first group tour we have ever done, with the exception of my post-college trip to Europe which was of the thirty day “if it’s Tuesday it must be Belgium” variety.
And now it is Wednesday morning (Tuesday evening for all of you) and we have had our first full day in Yangon and another one will begin in just a few minutes. Monday night we were met at the airport by Nu Nu Htwe (pronounced Tway), who is our vivacious and capable guide--we were surprised that she herself met us and not some peon, but she said that was all part of her job.
The hotel is a sprawling teak complex, formerly the Governor’s Residence which is now the name of the hotel. The Governor (during the British occupation) must have lived pretty well. The grounds are lovely, although the rooms are a tad long in the tooth. The staff cannot do enough for you and I even had two private computer consultants yesterday who managed to install a program on my computer so that I can continue with these missives.
Our adventures yesterday warrant a whole new entry so I am going to try to post this new just to see if I can.
Courtesy of dear friend Bob Rothstein, self-described ancient merchant mariner: Shanghaied is a nautical term. Ship’s in Shanghai’s harbor were always short on crew, so they sent out officers to “recruit” new sailors. The officers would cruise the bars and opium dens and when a guy was sufficiently “out” he was brought on the ship. By the time the guy was sufficiently sober, the vessel was on high sea and voila he became a sailor! He was in fact, “Shanghaied.”
Thank you Bob!
The Chinese language never fails to astound me. Since there is no similarity between Chinese and English, one is completely dependent on translations or helpful bi-linguals to get along. All the hotels have cards that say in English and Chinese, “Please take me to XYZ Hotel” with address and phone number. You then protect this card at all costs because to lose it would mean you would not get back to your hotel unless you were rescued by some other kind bi-lingual. You can’t just say “Mansion Hotel” because they wouldn’t understand the name in English. The taxi drivers not only speak no English, they don’t speak at all--not a single one of our drivers uttered so much as one word, to my memory. They would look at the card and drive, stop at the destination, take the money which is registered on the meter, and leave, sometimes with a small bow, sometimes not. Cabs are plentiful and cheap though and we never had to wait for even a minute before hailing one. We would ask Emilio or another bi-lingual at our hotel to write in Chinese where we were going--Yu Garden, People’s Square, etc--and if that wasn’t practical we would point to the destination on the map and hope for the best. It is also amazing to watch them write in Chinese is another amazing thing. So many intricate lines and squiggles! If I were 30 or 40 years younger I would study Mandarin Chinese if for no other reason than to unlock its mysteries.
People watching is a favorite pastime for Tom and I. Among the hordes of people of course there are many children. Everywhere we noticed that children were being cared for by grandparents, and rarely by parents or nannies. The parents are no doubt both working, and nannies are not only too expensive, but it would be considered unseemly to allow strangers to watch the kids. Usually the families all live together, children, parents and grandparents, and built-in babysitters are a convenient by-product of that arrangement.
We also noticed that the elders are treated with great respect. In restaurants especially, when a family comes in, the elders are seated first, gently and with great care, their coats removed and put aside and care taken to make them comfortable. I noticed one family where the grandmother, who was in a wheelchair, had three younger families members hovering over her and seeing to her comfort throughout the meal.
Time to pack up and land!
Now we are sitting in the Bangkok airport waiting for our flight to Yangon, the third flight of the day. Tomorrow, we are joining a group of a mere eight people, including us, and I’m sure we will find them congenial. We received a list with their names and as far as I can tell there are two other married couples, a single lady and a single gentleman, all close to our age. I deduced this through my investigative powers which I will not go into here. This is the first group tour we have ever done, with the exception of my post-college trip to Europe which was of the thirty day “if it’s Tuesday it must be Belgium” variety.
And now it is Wednesday morning (Tuesday evening for all of you) and we have had our first full day in Yangon and another one will begin in just a few minutes. Monday night we were met at the airport by Nu Nu Htwe (pronounced Tway), who is our vivacious and capable guide--we were surprised that she herself met us and not some peon, but she said that was all part of her job.
The hotel is a sprawling teak complex, formerly the Governor’s Residence which is now the name of the hotel. The Governor (during the British occupation) must have lived pretty well. The grounds are lovely, although the rooms are a tad long in the tooth. The staff cannot do enough for you and I even had two private computer consultants yesterday who managed to install a program on my computer so that I can continue with these missives.
Our adventures yesterday warrant a whole new entry so I am going to try to post this new just to see if I can.
3 comments:
Glad that you made it safely to Myanmar. Can't wait to hear the next blog. It sounds as though it will be very interesting!! Your transmissions are coming through perfectly. MMA
Mom/Dad:
When are you moving in? The new bedroom is ready!
XOXOXO
Eric
Mom:
Thanks for the explanation of being "Shanghai'd". It sounds like a wonderful city!
Now, we can't wait to hear about Burma! And please...inquiring minds wanna know...let us know what happens with the single folks~!
And if elders rule, then we get first shot at Mom and Dad moving in...sorry, Eric! We've got some teenagers for you to take care of~! ;^)
Love,
David
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