I’ve touched upon the idea that I now have minimal issue with braving buses and navigating the city by myself but I have not told you about my very first outing by myself. Now is a good time to do that, seeing as it is chronologically apt.
I had read about and studied bus route #402. I was told that it hit all of the tourist hotspots like the Yellow Crane Tower and shopping districts, to say nothing of the waterfront route on the shore of the Yangtze River. I knew that the 402 started its route at the train station from my previous studies of that transportation hub, so it was a cinch to board it and see where it would take me.
I set out with a few Yuan in my pocket and a full bottle of ginger water – I’ve been hooked on it since Montezuma’s little party. I brought my faithful black bag in case I saw something interesting that begged me to buy it and my camera in case there was something picturesque. Oh, yeah: I brought my umbrella because it was already raining and I did anticipate walking around, at least a little.
I always make it a point to sit next to a window or as close to the driver as possible when I’m on a bus. I want to see what there is to see, and if something looks particularly interesting I can simply get off the bus and go explore it. Also, this is an excellent way to spot landmarks in case I get lost in the future. The only disadvantage to claiming a window seat is that is that my legs are so long that I have to wedge my knees into the seat ahead of me or sit side-saddle, infringing on the space of my seat mate. Most women don’t seem to mind, but the men tend to have an objection to my crowding them. Therefore I consider myself lucky if I can not only score a window seat, but one right by the back doors of the bus, where there is a little bit more leg room. Or, one of those seats positioned longways in the front of the bus where my rangy knees will have ample room to crowd the aisle. I did not get either type of seat on this outing.
A lovely young lady sat next to me on the bus and soon we were having a wonderful conversation because she speaks marvelous English. She did not mind my taking up her leg room; we even laughed about it a little bit. She is a native of Wuhan and, being as she is unemployed right now, offered to be my tour guide. I asked her where Wangfujing is, the major shopping district and she asked some young women sitting in front of us to signal me when to get off the bus, as she was not going to be riding that far. We exchanged contact information and she and her parents got off the bus just after crossing the Yangtze River bridge. Her parents, too shy to actually venture into speaking with the foreigner while on the bus waved at me enthusiastically from the safety of the sidewalk.
Looking out the window, I soon spied a Carrefour store. Carrefour is a French chain supermarket much akin to Wal-mart; one can buy pretty much anything there. It just so happens that I had been looking for Carrefour (and Wal-Mart, a much more elusive quarry in this city – more on that later) so I could satisfy my still burning need to associate myself with Western products until I made the transition wholly into Chinese shopping. Excitedly I jumped out of my cramped seat. Well, not exactly jumped; more like unwedged myself from my seat. As I exited the bus the two women who were supposed to follow instructions given them by my former seatmate admonished me that I was getting off the bus too early, but I told them I was looking for Carrefour and that was why I was getting off the bus. They relinquished the hold on my arm and regretfully let me go. They must have been really determined to fulfill their obligation.
What was I hoping to find at Carrefour? I still don’t know. Paper products would have been nice – that would be a blog entry in and of itself. I think maybe I just wanted to walk around and see what I could see. Shopping in Chinese stores is still a daunting process for me: the sales people that follow me everywhere, the products whose labels I cannot read but that must be vital to Chinese cuisine because of their sheer abundance, products and foods I’ve never seen or eaten before. Raw meats that just lay there out in the open, eggs that don’t come in cartons, cheese that is not cheese.
I should explain here that the Chinese consider cheese the grossest substance on earth, but the foreign stores do stock some varieties. At least, so I had heard.
Maybe I just really wanted a piece of cheese. Maybe finding some butter would have been nice, or bread that wasn’t overly soft and overly sweet, like the types sold in the local bakeries.
Of all the things I hoped or expected to find, I was most excited and happy about this particular item, and it had nothing to do with food. Well, maybe a little, but it wasn’t in the food section.
You see, I’ve been worried about my oral hygiene since I got here. I am a total Listerine freak, and have been for years. Due to weight considerations I had only packed 2 pint-sized bottles in my suitcase, and I was nearly out. There is no mouthwash in the local stores, let alone any Listerine. I had contemplated shipping myself a few bottles of Listerine before leaving the States in case I ran into this situation but had decided against it. Lately I’ve been thinking of getting my friends and family to put a bottle or two in a care package to me every so often. However, mailing Listerine has a few logistical problems – weight being one and quantity for two – you can only mail a quart of such liquids.
But I know mouthwash had to be available somewhere in this city, because on my previous trips to China I had seen Scope and other mouthwashes, although never Listerine. I really did not want to contemplate switching to a sugary tasting mouthwash after being a Listerine girl for so long, but I might not have a choice.
So, imagine my awe at finding Listerine at Carrefour! There, stocked on the bottom shelf under what I supposed were more popular mouthwashes! Granted it was the small pint-sized bottle, and granted it was prohibitively expensive… but it was LISTERINE! It even had Chinese writing on the label, right under the trusty Listerine name! Like a caveman approaching fire for the first time, I squatted down, reached a trembling hand out and touched a bottle. Fearing it might be a mirage, I quickly snatched a bottle and hugged to my chest. Still squatting, I looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then grabbed another bottle. I then stood up quickly and quite nearly ran for the cashier. I half anticipated a saleswoman to call me out or worse: call security on me for taking too much Listerine. How terrible it would be to only be able to buy one bottle at a time!
I no longer cared about butter or cheese, meat or condiments. I had a taste of the West, one I was intimately familiar with, one I loved and had been hoping I would find a steady supply of. Food I could find at any grocery store, Listerine was a treasure. I paid the exhorbitant price of 32 Yuan per bottle and stashed them into my trusty black bag, and then clung to it as though it were my salvation as I scooted out of the store.
Listerine! My day was made.
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