Arrival

Arriving in Shanghai in the winter. It is 2019. I've never seen Blade Runner, but maybe this is it. 

Pollution hangs thick in the sky. Most days it has cleared up by afternoon, but yesterday it got up to 220 and stayed there. I can't say what the numbers mean, but I've been told above 200 is mask time. I really didn't think I'd wear one, always have been stunned seeing my Chinese students wear them in NYC, think back also to when I was in Mexico during the flu epidemic. 

I never thought I'd wear one. It fogs up my glasses and feels hot, but I can taste the open air (maybe I'm imagining that?), so I put it over my mouth, breath through my mouth. The mask makes it hard to breathe.

I download fifteen apps in two days. I've always hated apps but here we are. I see pay-badges you can scan everywhere, including a beggar's bowl I drop small coins in. I use my phone to pay for my groceries, use my phone to unlock bikes, use it to pay for the subway. For a New Yorker in 2019, this subway is like a dream--clean, organized, punctual. It will get more crowded. It's a holiday so the city is almost empty. People pack on the cars in the few stops that go through the middle of town. At an interchange, a woman rushing to get on my train literally tosses me out of the way. She is short and determined. Her mask is blue.

I arrive in Shanghai in the winter, and pollution hangs in the air. There is so much to see and enjoy, so many lights. I get lost and find Jing'an Temple, an ancient building, glorious and shining amidst the city. I get lost and find my friend at Stone Brewery, one of few places open during this holiday, where "Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels" plays on the big screen and we drink all the IPA's from back home. It's a beautiful room, and I'm happy I'll be here in spring, when I'm told the air will be clearer, when the giant garage doors will open and we will sit outside, running back and forth from our table to the bar.

It's 2019.