Day I: MNL-February 5, 2008 I attend my classes at UP which end at 2:30 p.m. Check-in time in NAIA is 4 p.m.

which gives me one and a half hours to fix everything although I know that a 5 p.m. check-in is just fine if your flight is scheduled at 8:50 p.m. This is Social Science Week and our chair has lined up activities for the whole week. I make arrangements with the student assistants to bring my classes to the activities and check attendance. Since the activities start at 9:00 a.m., I bring my 7:00 a.m. students to the construction site so we can stuff some of the sytrofoam inside the grape boxes which are also made of hard and sturdy styrofoam. There is no use holding classes today because if I do, this class will be advanced compared to the rest. To check how durable the styrofoam are, I had them thrown from the third floor down to the ground floor and examined whether there were cracks in the boxes. The boxes are very sturdy and show no cracks. I tell my students to stuff the loose styrofoam inside the boxes but seal the small ventilators so water cannot filter in. The boxes will then be glued to each other, facilitating the process of stuffing the floors with styrofoam. My students fill the boxes with gusto. I fix my for budget for the tour, pay my carpenter 3,000 for the week and rush to the airport with my wife who has expressed her fear regarding the weather in Shanghai. No more options. Shanghai cant wait, the boat wont float anyway, at least not yet. Twenty eight years ago, I was with a group of Filipino-Chinese businessmen and some academicians under the invitation of Chinas YOUXIE Association. China was slowly and gradually opening up its borders at that time and for many foreigners, it was a vast forbidding kingdom of unsmiling cadres, flag and book waving Maoists, importing their brand of communism to other countries. It was no more progressive nor developed than the Philippines but its reputed egalitarian policies, quaint medical practices like acupuncture and radical approaches to education beckoned to wide-eyed idealists like me. I was (and still is) aero phobic and the fact that the plane was delayed for five hours due to a flat tire did not assuage my fear of flying. Would Chinas plane fly? Was the pilot experienced enough to fly from Manila to Canton? My mouth becomes dry as we step inside the Cebu Pacific plane . For most part, the flight is uneventful except for some turbulence entering Chinas airspace. In a few minutes, I see orange streets and glistening rooftops while the plane lowers its wheels. There is a thump and I know that we are in Pudong airport, Shanghai. Welcome back to China! It is 11:41 p.m., we arrive 25 minutes ahead of schedule. Day 2 Shanghai

The plane taxies slowly in the runway as it positions itself to allow passengers to disembark. I wear my Umbro ukay-ukay jacket (cost 450.00) over my blue Giordano tshirt, slings my bag on my shoulder and joins the rest to claim our baggage. We travel light, only two medium size bags that contain one Hilfiger jacket (genuine) three pants, seven briefs, jogging pants, 4 thick Giordano t-shirts (used but genuine) while my wife has two jackets, under wears , a NY and company sweater, several branded t-shirts, a white shawl, a pair of mittens and a sleeveless Prosperity sweater. As we check out of Chinas immigration counter, I feel Shanghais cold, humid winter that paralyzed the city several weeks ago. As we step out of the building, cold smoke emits from my mouth and I blow several puffs. This is good, smoke without cigarettes but as the cold penetrates the jacket, I feel my teeth chatter uncontrollably while my knees shake. There is nothing voluntary about the whole thing which makes it embarrassing. Fellow travelers, most of them retirees and past their primes, seem not be bothered by the cold weather but my wife and I try to hide our discomfort. Finally a tall fellow appears and beckons us inside the bus as the bags are packed below. Gradually, the heater takes over and my body gradually recovers its normal temperature. Our guide introduces himself as George and our hotel is very near. We are checking in at the Express Holiday Inn and George starts collecting our passport. George goes around asking people whether they have been to Shanghai. Many are first timers, but some have been to the city. After two hours, there is no Holiday Inn, George doesnt know where we are and the driver is as lost as everybody else. We turn in a small alley that is in a middle of a construction (street, building, bridge?) but the road is blocked. George explains that they are building a bridge and some of the roads are blocked, but tells us not to worry because the hotel is very near. At around 2:15, we finally see the hotel. I am beginning to like George and his brand of humor. We disembark and the cold Shanghai air assaults our body and the cold is terribly unbearable. George tells us that the hotel porters will pull out our luggage but we have to bring it to our own rooms. The hotel is heated but the cold filters in and my body again chills, I start looking for the toilet. Luckily, the toilet is near the hotel entrance, and when I get in, I relieve myself of the whole days tension and body fluids, relieve when I see the hand blower which spits heat. The blood inside my freezing hands return to its normal state but I still worry on how to bring our bags inside the hotel. I cant rely on anybody else doing it for us, much less my wife, so I sprint out of the hotel, drag both bags in and within five minutes, I have both bags safely inside the lobby. George tells us that breakfast will be served at 7 a.m. and we leave our hotel at 8:30. He starts giving back our passports and assigns us our rooms. My wife secures the automated cards of our room and we occupy room 3035 (?). Habits die hard and Fely uses the hotels heated water to wash her face and change into sleeping clothes. I only remove my Nike rubber shoes and fell asleep with out bothering to remove my Umbro, my t-shirt, my denim pants, and my socks. The thick bed sheets offer a safe refuge to the brutal Shanghai cold and sleep takes over.

We wake up around 6 a.m. and I tell my wife that we eat breakfast first before taking a bath and preparing ourselves for the days itinerary. We go down to the lobby straight to the restaurant which has prepared two sets of breakfast, American and a Chinese buffetstyle consisting of noodles, hard boiled eggs, fried potatoes with sliced hot dogs, bread with butter and strawberry jam, Chinese pao and fried eggs which are thoroughly fried and appear like boiled eggs. In Shanghai, there is no sunny side-up, the eggs are as frigid as the weather. The American breakfast are ordered in the counter and has several sets fried rice with fried eggs, fried rice with bacon and egg and fried rice alone. We eat Chinese and I notice with are the first among our tour mates. I am famished as Cebu Pacific did not offer dinner and there was no time last night to eat nor to survey our surroundings for food. Dinner in the plane was not part of the package deal. Members of our tour group start streaming in while we are finishing our breakfast. Back to our rooms, I start surveying our surroundings. In front of the hotel is a river and beyond it are snow covered empty spaces that are being cleared for a future construction. Way beyond are Chinas towering condominiums which dwarf our hotel. I take a quick shower and survey my belongings. I brought a few shirts and regret I did not bring my Giordano blazer and my Bossini jacket. Fely tells me that she intentionally left them because it will add to the bulk of our luggage- so I decide to do the most practical thing- use a brand new shirt that will come in contact with the skin and recycle the rest by layering the used ones. There is really no perspiration in Shanghais frigid weather and sweat wont be easy to come by. Hence, my clothes for the day consist of: a t-shirt (first layer), the blue Giordano shirt (genuine because the fake ones are thinner but everybody wears them in Manila because the genuine is hot and unsuitable to Manilas warm weather), a Staynit shirt, the Hilfiger jacket and finally, my good friend, Umbro. Finally, I wrap my shawl over my neck. I wear my jogging pants and slid over my denim pants. Instead of using one sock, I use three pairs although my shoes become tighter with the extra socks. Convince I am ready to go to the front lines, my wife and I go to the ground floor and survey the surroundings of the hotel. It is only 7:30 and we have an hour to go before boarding time. Snow are piled on the sidewalk but the hotels garden is covered by a thick layer. Filipinos, in a separate tour group, have a grand time balling the snow and throwing it at each other while I take pictures of my wife while she takes mine. George, clean shaven and refresh with sweet smelling cologne, calls us and conducts the roll. He warns us to stay together, be on time and not to stray from the group. We are leaving our belongings in the hotel because we are in Shanghai for three days. We board the bus and the bus leaves at 8:35. George starts his eee-er-san-si (1-2-3-4), head count and when he finishes, he takes the microphone and gives us the itinerary for the day. We will go to the Bund he says beside the Tinghao River. He gives an overview

of Shanghai-the city, the people living in it, its colonial history. Shanghai is a city that never sleeps he says and it has the worlds third tallest, after the 2,102 floors in Taiwan, the one in Dubai is the second while the place where we are going has the tallest in the city so far. A new one is being constructed but after it is finished, then it will be the tallest. George is a handsome looking native Shanghainese whose friendly demeanor reflects the Shanghaineses known conduct toward foreigners. Beijing people are frosty and conscious of their superiority over the rest of mankind. By contrast, the people in Shanghai are more accustomed having been under colonial rule for many years, hence they are friendlier, accommodating and more approachable. The Chinese are not too particularly religious and Shanghai women covet the 4 cscondominium, car, cash and credit cards. As he voice drones on, I look at the citys changing surrounding and I marvel at the sight. I cannot remember a single structure of Shanghai twenty eight years ago- gone were the French villas, the colonial facades and the low story homes of the Mandarins occupied by the loyal cadres of the Party. In its place are tall structures of various colors and designs. The skyline is filled with cranes that look like the snouts of sea horses at a distance. I am not sure whether there is a fog or pollution permeates the air- George says that the average lifespan of women is 81 while the men is 79 but many are suffering from lung cancer due to pollution. Shanghai rises above the air as many homes are demolished and give way to tall buildings. It is a city with 20 million people everyone of whom is busy enriching themselves. The Maoist dictum of serve the people is now replace by Dengs to get rich is glorious. As our bus turns toward the Bund, I see Chinas version of the Eiffel Tower, the imposing and beautiful Oriental Pearl TV Tower which is distinctive for its spherical design and rising steeple. The Bund, according to George, was a foreign enclave before where the British posted a No dogs and Chinese allowed. George, whose Chinese name is Zhu Chun Lin, stands over six feet tall and easily towers over the rest of us. His fair skin is accentuated by his rosy cheeks and speaks with a clear English accent that can easily be understood by everybody. He punctuates his remarks with hyperbole-very very beautiful and with understatement- very near- that becomes the subject of jokes among the jovial Filipinos on board. But George is everybody mans Friday, the ideal tourist guide who smiles often, tells corny jokes about elephants and camels fitting inside a refrigerator and sings. (somebody must teach him Butchiki ala Yoyoy Villame and I am willing to bet that the Filipinos will love him even more but the Chinese might end up killing him). He admits to some, concedes to none and feigns ignorance to hard questions. Slippery George says he is single who stays with his parents in a condominium in Shanghai. Its New Years eve and tonight he says he will buy many firecrackers and light them up.

The Chinese, he says, discovered gunpowder and placed them inside bamboo tubes and burned them causing a lot of noise. When the foreigners learned about the powder, they used it for their guns and cannons. We alight and George tells us that we will have a group picture taken and one picture for the married couples. The day is cold and balmy but the sun is up and its rays are covered either by clouds or by the pollution of the city. My layered clothes protect me from the blistering cold. The day is New Years eve and people are enjoying the beginning of their 10 day vacation leave for the New Year celebrations and the Bund is teeming with local and foreign tourists. We are beside the Tinghao river, on the side of old Shanghai. New Shanghai is at the other side of the river and George tells us that we are going there tomorrow. Meanwhile, vendors selling kites, balloons and ice cream (in the freezing cold) mix with the crowd. The photographer takes a picture of our delegation with old Shanghai at the background and she takes a picture of married couple with their backs behind the rivers embankment with new Shanghai looming at the background. The two clicks cost us 150 yuan one group picture on a cardboard and two pictures for couples, one engraved on a plate and the other on cardboard. It is every tour groups necessary evils the compulsory group picture and the picture of couples for souvenirs and for displays on tabletops and glass cabinets. In fact, our trip to Hongkong in 2005 was printed on the same plate, with the same Chinese characters that say welcome to China and two pandas munching the shoots of their favorite bamboo plants. The Hongkong photo was in front of the Jade Factory beside a giant jade boat while the one in Shanghai was at the Bund beside the Tinghao river. After the photo-ops, we go back to our bus so we can proceed to Shanghais former center- the Peoples Square. Shops line up the square and there is Starbucks in front of a line long of small shops that sell souvenir items and other Chinese products. George points to a long line of gingko biluba trees which are leave less due to the winter season. Their fruits are said to be good for memory retention and diabetes. From the Peoples Square, we proceed to the recognized center of the city now the city hall. We alight from the bus so we can take pictures and I notice a big post which points to a museum of the founding of the Communist party. I remember going to that small museum twenty eight years ago. The fact that we ignore this site shows how time had diminished Chinas fascination with Marxist ideology. The Shanghai Museum of History is in front of the city hall and I ask George whether we will visit the Museum. George says that we need at least two hours to see it but we have to board the bus in fifteen minutes as we will have our lunch. George tells us, believe or not, that there is a Chinatown in Shanghai where lanterns are hung in front of houses with questions that are meant to be answered. Those who answer the questions can take the lanterns home. As a clincher, George gives us a quiz that is meant to tickle our minds but only succeeds in confusing me- it was really a good appetizer for a Chinese lunch in Phoenih Restaurant. The menu includes:

A bowl of french fries, egg (torta), asparagus, beans, patola, fried fish with sauce that is too salty and too bony, chopsuey, sprite, mineral water and pieces of ponkan for dessert After lunch, George goes i-er-san-su and we go to the Jade Factory. George admits that their agency gets three percent commission on sales. The more vocal Chinoys chide George but say its okay, they understand. Inside Bert Limpo buys a jade piece for his office worth 50,000 yuan while I buy a boat worth 30 U.S. dlrs. I show the boat to Mr. Godofredo Alla who expresses interest to what I am doing. It turns out that Fred is an expert on wood. I tell him that I am using red lauan for the keels boat and ribs and he agrees that lauan is really being used for boats. He believes that if we place outriggers for the boat, it will be unsinkable. The jade factory is also selling jade trinkets, jewelry and other ornaments made of jade. Beth Limpo matches her husbands spending spree and buys several jewels. It is 5 p.m. when we leave the jade factory. Dinner is not part of the package tonight so we can either eat at the Hotel restaurant or eat at a very very good Brazilian restaurant where there is exquisite food. There is no taker for the Brazilian restaurant and we stop at a mini mall to buy small items before going back to the hotel which is very near. I buy muffins, shaver and choco chips. The Yupangco brothers bought several cases of Chinese beer intent to celebrate New Years eve in style. Back at the hotel I buy dinner for 35 yuan and share it with my wife, a habit that we have adopted a few months after we married in 1998. It did not only reduce my bulging tummy, we also save on calories and the money. Tomorrow, George says, we will meet again at 8:30, if we want, we can join the New Years Eve celebration in front of the hotel at 10 p.m. We go back to our rooms, my wife goes to the CR and I go straight to bed. I missed the 10 p.m. fireworks but not the Chinese New Year. As early as 11:30, our darkened room flashes with bursting fireworks that explode in Shanghais sky. Its like Manila in New Years Eve, only this time there is more colorful rockets that lit the city. The bedlam continues for an hour and I realize how much Sinified the Filipinos are. At around 12:30, the exploding fireworks suddenly stop and peace descended to the city as immediately as it started. To be continued....