Today is Friday the 13th. Anyone superstitious out there? I was really surprised when my good friend Laura told me several years ago that 13 is a lucky number in Italy. And here, it’s 6 and 8. 4 is the unluckiest number as it sounds very similar to the word for “death.” Last week on the news, I heard how everyone in the U.S. was trying to get married on 07.07.07, because 7 is a lucky number. So probably if one takes all the cultures and religions around the world into consideration, you could find something good or bad about each number.

Patrick and my relationship actually seems to have a lucky number when it comes to apartments. Every place we lived together in Vienna – from the student dorm to our last apartment – we seemed to land on the 6th floor. Having viewed probably 40some apartments in Shanghai, only one was on the 6th floor.  And, no, the climax of the story is unfortunately not what you think. Although we liked that apartment (Patrick more than me – he is more superstitous than he likes to admit), we did not take it. We are breaking with tradition – watch out, 20th floor, here we come.

We have a very nice Chinese landlord who was patient through many contract negotiations with Patrick’s company and demands from yours truly (but you did not see some of his furniture and strange railings in front of EVERY window that were supposed to protect suicidal spider-children with supernatural talents from vertically climbing up windows and jumping out). We now are liable in case someone jumps out of our windows (for those with children, it is really not possible for them to fall out, don’t worry), so just keep that in mind when visiting us. (:

So the move is tomorrow. I spent today packing up our belongings in the service apartment. We also received word that our shipment from Austria has arrived in Shanghai, but still needs to go through customs clearance. So it will probably be another week or so until it can be delivered. My biggest hope is that we receive everything before our trip to the States on July 28th.

I posted pictures of the outside of our building. I will take pictures of the inside when our belongings have arrived, so it actually looks like someone lives there. Visitors, you will be able to see your “wing” of the apartment is waiting for you.

Or shall I say buses and bread? Today I had my first Shanghai bus experience on the way to buying the best bread this city has to offer. I wish I had a funny, first-time-on-a-bus story for everyone, but I don’t because I was with long-time Shanghai resident and bus veteran, Olga (Greek, grew up in Germany, married German-Turk, now speaks fluent Chinese).
So here are the not-so-fun-but-read-them-anyway-details:
– A ride within downtown borders costs 2 kuai (20 cents) and all buses are air conditioned.
– We rode a double decker on the upper deck – not recommended for the frail of stomach and not comparable with well-known and much smoother counterparts in London (we wondered if that is because of uneven streets or bad driving, but I never noticed uneven streets before, so…).
– We took a total of 3 buses and had seats on all of them – apparently unheard of during rush hour.
– I used my fancy, new transportation card that works like a debit card – also on all metro lines and taxis.

Bread was at the end of today’s exciting adventure. This discovery was like finding gold at the end of the rainbow. Thick, dark, chunky loafs with all kinds of seeds, oats, and nutrients. This bread baked at Dutch-owned bakery called Bastian, could compete even with some Austrian bakeries which was evident by the two kilos (I am guessing one kilo/loaf) I had in my bag on the way home.

Well, not quite. Actually, I’m not sure. I was hearing many Chinese street names and seeing a psychedelic collage of the probably 50 apartments I have viewed over the past several weeks: dark brown wood, Chinese landlords, views of skyscrapers hovering in the hazy sky. When heading out the door to yet another viewing this morning, I gave myself a pep talk: if nothing else, this is a good way to see another part of the city, learn about the neighborhoods, be around other human beings. The bright side: at this stage in the game, nothing is a waste of time. Every experience is a learning experience.

While at the supermarket with my young realtor friend Yeye today, I realized that I do have so much to learn. Why can’t we just skip the part where I am the ignorant foreigner blundering her way around Chinese culture and people and get to the good part: the Burcu – I mean Baoze – who can haggle with the grocer or who knows her way around a Chinese supermarket or who can understand when she has just made someone lose face, “guanxi.”  At least, I can be proud that I caught myself before asking why there are no dish towels to be found anywhere (Chinese dry their dishes in these dish-dryer-disintectant-machines that look like stoves from the outside). And these kind of enlightenings do go both ways. As yoghurt-type products are our main source of calcium these days, I was making my choices, when Yeye pointed at a Chinese character and said “acid milk.” The more products I chose, the more he repeated “acid milk.” The acid must have become too much for him, because at one point, he said that this is enough now and that I should maybe not buy so much acid milk. I replied by saying that in English, we do not call it milk – we call it yoghurt. His eyes became so big. A whole new concept.

So after two weekends of travelling and exploring, our third weekend was almost entirely dedicated to apartment hunting. Two highlights: we had Sunday brunch with a group of jet-set cosmopolitans. My connection to Jennifer, the organizer, is so complicated that I don’t even know anymore how I know her. Anyway, she is a “Chinese returnee” – left China in 1991 to study and work in the US, and returned 2 1/2 years ago to get “a piece of the action.” She and another very successful Chinese woman working at CNBC, told me that, even with their qualifications and the surplus of jobs, competition in China is tough. What? It’s not enough to speak absolutely perfect English and Chinese, have a Harvard Business degree, years of work experience for a major US firm, be pretty, smart and eloquent? It had me wondering what kind of jobs they were seeking. On the other (male) end of the table, Patrick was an innocent bystander in an exchange about investing in property, stocks, bonds, etc in China and where the best ROI is, that went completely over his head. OK, we are obviously Expat Freshmen.

The second highlight was the Shanghai International Film Festival. I was determined to view a Turkish film from one director I much respect. And because an hour of probing did not result in an answer to our question about the language of the subtitles, I went alone. Just after I heard the Chinese women at brunch saying they don’t like “dark” movies (they hated Perfume) and have gone for years watching only comodies, I was curious about the effect this very dark, almost black, psychodrama, would have on the 99,9% Chinese audience. My curiousity did eat away at me when a) even if they were disgusted, they did not show it, and b) I did not understand their “post-flick” chit chat.

And so another week came to a close. I don’t know how time flies here, it just does. It was just last weekend that our friends from Chicago, Brian and Jeanie, were visiting (and for those of you who were wondering, they had planned their trip to China before knowing that we were going to move to Shanghai, so the timing was a wonderful coincidence). If anyone is planning a trip over here, I will send you their itinerary. They are now probably heading back and have interesting things to share. If you have viewed our photos on this site, you will have seen the amazing images from our trip to “Venice of the East” canal town Zhouzhuang (45 min drive with Jing), which was 100% inspired by the B&J team. We are thankful to have adventurous friends like them!