Shanghai to Shangri-la

I'm here, I'm really here!

But did I say I wanted an adventure? I'm off to a great start. That was hands down the most painful travel experience I've ever had. My bag, the one with all my clothes for the month, first aid supplies, cable ties and duct tape, was lost on the first leg of the journey and still no one knows where it is. (Jim, if you're reading this, United and I will buy you a new pack if it comes to that).

Giving a whole new meaning to the term Shanghai'd, my flight from Shanghai to Chengdu was canceled at 11:30 at night after we sat on the plane for 3 hours. With the World Expo in town, every room was booked. After a near-riot at the podium, I, the 2 other Americans on the flight and the 20 or so Chinese passengers who were NOT threatening violence, were whisked away by an Air China rep through the now-closed airport and loaded onto a bus.

We were driven about 30 minutes away through some moderately shabby neighborhoods then unloaded into a dark alley with warehouses on either side and told to keep walking. With few options we did, and after about 10 minutes found ourselves in some sort of corporate retreat center with lakes and trees and ducks, and gigantic, clean, well-appointed rooms (complete with instant noodles and tea).



Fridge stocked with coconut juice, mystery sodas, and bizarrely about 2 dozen eggs:


Tea and noodles:


The next morning we were fed an excellent 20-course brunch and loaded back on the bus and returned to the airport where I finally got a flight to Chengdu.

I had, of course, missed my flight from Chengdu to Kathmandu and had to spend the night in Chengdu. Air China kindly offered to put me up for the night but this was no corporate retreat center. I will just say: at least there were no vermin (that I could see) and leave it at that.

Flight from Chengdu to Kathmandu? Completely surreal. We landed in Lhasa, where everyone filed off the plane, walked through the completely empty and sterile airport, passed through Chinese immigration (twice) and customs (twice) even though we were leaving China, then got back on the exact same plane, resumed our seats and carried on to Kathmandu.

On the awesome side: we flew right past Everest. I though the plane was going to tip. Every single passenger was on the right hand side gawking.

Now, 60 hours after leaving home I am in Kathmandu, still without my bag. But here's the kicker: Except for one 10 minute meltdown when I saw--and smelled--the hotel room in Chengdu I have been blissfully unfazed by the whole experience. I'm in Kathman-freakin'-du!

It's chaos! It's amazing! It's utterly disorienting and raucous! I'm not sure I can even give any initial impressions of the city, since Santi, the woman sent to fetch me at the airport, kept me chatting through the taxi ride. Which was good since every time I happened to look at the road it was clear that the traffic rules are, shall we say, flexible.

The house where I am staying is owned by Scott and Sunita, who run the program. Sunita kindly gave me some of her t-shirts but I can fit into her pants only in my dreams. So she sent me across the street to the giant shopping center with their 9-year old daughter Kritan. Kritan held my hand and guided me through the store like a pro--pants, underwear, slippers, pajamas. I bought her a candy bar to thank her, and after we got home she brought me this drawing she made for me:


Scott came by to say hello and we skipped right past that whole "don't talk about religion or politics" thing. The conversation quickly landed on the topic of the condition of women in Nepal. I think I will save the substance for another post, but just say here that the short answer is very, very bad.