Sheryl Sandberg, China & Me
Page 8
I know what you’re thinking and believe me that is what I was thinking too but Jack had been telling me about this great lady who makes this great breakfast and, if I would get my “sorry arse” out of bed, we could log a few miles and end our run at her street cart and grab breakfast. “Come on, babe, you’ll love it.” I’ll tell you what I’d love . . . well, I can’t our kids might read this. And, is my ass really that sorry?
Unbelievably, I got out of bed and put on my running gear. After a little more than 2 miles, I could see the line of people standing outside what looked like a real estate office. “That’s her,” Jack said and, mercifully, slowed his pace. There were maybe six people waiting for their made-to-order breakfast. It smelled fantastic. Not surprisingly, the lovely cook greeted Jack warmly. A large Western man with blond facial hair and a shaved head is memorable here. He gets all the smiles — only Henry gets more, I think.
Breakfast consists of a very thin flat bread cooked over a large, circular hot plate — and I do mean hot. The dough is spread across the plate in a circular motion using what appears to be a large putty knife. Over the dough, she breaks an egg and washes it across the dough, adds scallions and chilies. She lifts the dough from the plate, folds it in thirds, adds a secret sauce and folds it again, then cuts it in half and puts it in a plastic bag. Breakfast to go. I added an extra egg to my Ji dan bing. The price for this delicious and surprisingly filling breakfast was 4 RMB. Less than $1 in the States.
This got me thinking — how cheaply can you eat in Shanghai? While I have been in Shanghai longer than my family, I haven’t seen nearly as much of it as the rest of the gang. I know where to get a great steak (Char), or a great roast chicken (Mr. & Mrs. Bund) or even some traditional Indian samosas (Marsala Art). Of course, dinner at any one of these places will cost us a couple hundred dollars, especially if we have wine (and we are having wine!). Believe it or not, a dozen cupcakes costs you $50 around here — they are good but $50?
So, while I have eaten well and expensively, I have not sampled the street cuisine or many of the Shanghai favorites to the same extent as Jack.
Back at the house, we showered and tried to decide what we should do next. I had a few ideas and Jack had several tempting suggestions. We still had at least 5 hours before the kids would be home. So, as you would expect, we got in the car and headed to Yu Yuan Garden. The food tour was on.
Xialongbao is a Chinese dumpling. The dumplings are usually filled with pork, chicken or mushrooms. The dough is pulled up around the filling and twisted into a “rose.” The thing that makes these dumplings unique and ever so delicious, though, is the juice inside them. When you take your first bite, you have to be careful of the hot broth, which will burn your mouth but tastes so good.
Xialongbao is available all over Shanghai and is a fairly inexpensive meal. We went to Yu Garden to get the dumplings from “the original” makers. This is a fairly famous spot to get xialongbao, so it’s a bit more pricey. We spent 20 RMB or $3.50 for lunch.
Our Ayi was so aghast at the price we paid that she made us some later in the week so we wouldn’t “waste our money.” Secretly, I think this was Jack’s original intent, as he had not been able to get her to make them earlier because she said the dough was hard to make . . . or I think that is what she said, who knows.
For dinner, we went for muslim noodles. These noodles are made fresh, right in front of you, in the tiniest little shop. The dough is stretched like taffy, pulled and plied and eventually stretched into submission, and cooked in a flash. You can have your noodles with beef, chicken, vegetables or even eggs. I had mine with cucumbers and egg. Jack ordered his with beef and peppers. The sauce is light, buttery and just slightly spicy. There are no forks at this little tiny spot and I have not quite mastered the art of noodle eating with chopsticks . . . so . . . slurp!
This delicious and satisfying dinner cost 12 RMB for noodles with cucumber and egg or 13 RMB for noodles with beef and peppers — $2 per serving.
The total price for dining in Shanghai on this particular Monday: Less than $15 for both of us.
While I did enjoy the food tour, I do wish we’d taken a bit of time for some other indulgences . . . but you can’t have it all!
Curing The Sunday Night Blues . . .
September 2012
Shanghai
I used to really dread Sunday night. The amount of dread tended to vary with how I felt about work at the time but, overall, I never really looked forward to Sunday night. My favorite part of the week was Friday at 8 p.m. — the cusp of the weekend. Then, I moved to China.
Sunday night in China is a complete revelation and one that I did not come to on my own. When I arrived in China, I was lucky enough to make a couple of good friends on my first weekend in town. Not only did these friends take care of me that first weekend but they introduced me to their cure for the Sunday night blues. It has been a revelation.
Now, I feel compelled to preface this with “I work very hard.” My compulsion is no doubt related to my Catholicism. Admittedly, I am no longer a good Catholic or religious at all but some things stay with you – like guilt. I have a guilt complex to rival any devout Catholic and most good Jews too. I don’t exactly feel guilty about my Sunday night addiction but, still, I feel like it should be justified. So, there it is: “I work hard.” Yeah, I don’t feel guilty at all.
It takes effort to make this ritual happen and, yet, it is unthinkable that we would miss it.
Everything is timed down to the last possible minute — we get Henry home from football, dinner is on the table, backpacks are checked for school the next morning and shower reminders are issued to the younger set as we race out the door. Then Jack and I make the 40-minute drive to Puxi, which is on the other side of the river from where we live in Pu Dong. All of this would likely be a much greater hassle if we were doing the driving but we aren’t. Mr. Cao picks us up at our door, drops us off and repeats.
We are dropped at the door. No parking hassle. We take the elevator up to 8th floor and as the doors open we hear: “Jennifer, welcome back.” I love hearing this each week. I know my name is on the book and they are expecting us but, still, I love it. I do.
We sit down in the dimly lit reception area and are given the menu and a cup of tea. Everyone knows what our selection will be but perusing the menu is part of the ritual. These 10 minutes in the reception area are devoted to the ritual, drinking the green tea, scanning the menu and confirming our selection. Just as we finish our tea, the curtains open and we are greeted by our usual Sunday night hosts and led back to what has become our “usual” room.
The room is set up for two but, in all, there will be six of us. Because, on this occasion, we splurged and got the 4-hands massage. Yes, two pairs of hands working your body symmetrically. Please — there is no reason to ask the question — yes, two is better than one.
So, when you are watching your Sunday pre-game show, I’ll be having quality time with my husband and two or four other women and I won’t be the least bit jealous nor will I feel guilty . . . I will, however, feel all of the tension of last week and the week ahead melt away for a solid 90 minutes. And, when we are done, there will be tea and cookies or maybe that really good chocolate pudding! Or, maybe we’ll make a stop at the Long Bar . . .
Monday is waiting, after all.
Business Travel . . . Asia Style
September 2012
Bangkok, Thailand
The life of a corporate leader is so glamorous. You jet about the world, stay at fancy hotels, eat at amazing restaurants and meet very interesting people. And, then there is my life.
You pay to upgrade yourself to business class because your flight leaves at 12:30 a.m., lands at 5:35 a.m. and you are going straight to the office for a full day of eye-drooping meetings, followed by the long and sometimes harrowing drive to the hotel (this is Southeast Asia and the first generation of drivers . . .) to find that you are staying at a mid-rate location that won’t accept your corpor
ate credit card. And this, my friends, is day one of an 8-day adventure.
It’s rainy season. There is no humidity-resistant hair spray that can stand up to Thailand’s rainy season. I dare Bed Head to prove me wrong! My flat iron is working overtime to keep the strands straight and in place but, really, what is the point? I look a mess and feel saturated (aka bloated beyond recognition).
I love Bangkok. The hotel I stay at here is actually pretty great. The rooms are really like small studios and there is a great breakfast and a wonderful bar with a great view. Of course, since I’m paying, the cocktails suddenly seem more expensive than necessary and I fail to ever get back in time for happy hour. The best thing, however, is that while in Bangkok I have the luxury of a Western toilet. Yes, for me, this is the new measure of luxury.
You may recall my trip to Chongqing and the issue of the “squat” toilet and my strained groin muscle. Well, as I made my way to my next location in Thailand, the luxury-level dropped a bit. Checking in at the lovely Holiday Inn on the beach was fine with the minor exception that my corporate card still wasn’t working. But, the Thai people are wonderful. I’ve yet to find more hospitable people.
This location is interesting in many ways. The beach is lovely and if you are in need of female companionship you can certainly find it along the beach, along “walking street” or at any one of the many bars lining the street. And, if you like your female companionship in the form of a boy dressed as a woman or in the process of becoming a woman, you can find that too.
My room, of course, is on the beach side with a great view but it is also next to a very popular outdoor drinking establishment with a loud and not so good cover band that plays until 1 a.m.
My day is supposed to begin at 4:30 a.m. with a meeting with the “global team” but I sleep through it. Just not happening today . . . not on my dime, anyway. At 7 a.m. I am on my way to the plant with a driver who is definitely not afraid to drive on the wrong side of the road despite heavy oncoming traffic, which may be in the form of a bike, motor bike, car, or even a truck full of chicken. By the time I get to the plant, I need coffee just to calm me down.
Several cups later, the inevitable happens and I find that the Western toilets are not available at this location. I am pleased to say that I have mastered (sort of) this restroom arrangement.
My advice to those of you planning a trip to Southeast Asia – do your squats! I can’t see my Mother doing this – no offense Mom!
I finally return to the hotel about 9 p.m. I am hungry and I have 30 minutes until my next call – North America is awake now. Room service is the only viable option (which will be on my dime).
At 10 p.m., I’m done for the day. Tomorrow, I move on to the next location. Vietnam, Northern China, India . . . who knows, but it won’t be by private plane or involve 5-star hotels.
What To Wear To Lunch . . .
September 2012
Shanghai
I don’t go out for lunch very often. Jack, on the other hand, manages to incorporate lunch into his Chinese language class homework. He’s working on ordering lunch these days from his favorite street vendors in their native language. He’s quite good actually.
Me? I still have lunch with people who speak my native language (chocolate). And the Chinese don’t really like chocolate so much — a wonder, I know. So, when I was asked to represent the Salt Mine at an event that included lunch, I presumed there would be some great food and potentially some chocolate. I should really know better by now . . .
Lunch turned out to be a driving extravaganza. It took us 90 minutes to get to the lunch location. I know it is Shanghai, but jeez! Lunch itself was about 110 minutes if you don’t include the “networking” that took about 20 minutes. And, the drive back was long enough that the party in the Transit had enough time to screen Fast and Furious 5, which is a movie I would not ordinarily watch but it was in the vehicle and we had PLENTY of time to kill.
Still, lunch also included getting to spend a bit of time with the Governor of the Great State of Michigan. It isn’t every day that I have lunch with the Governor. (We already covered the fact that I rarely have lunch.) I am not entirely sure what I was expecting but I did think carefully about my wardrobe.
Governor. Republican. I’m thinking conservative, boring and sensible. Wrap dress seemed a bit too “casual” for the event. Pant suit seemed a bit too Hillary Clinton (I like her, so watch it!) for this event. Black pencil skirt might send the wrong message — this is not an episode of “Mad Men.”
I settled on the conservative but sleeveless grey frock that my niece chose for me at Nordstrom when I was in town in January. Grey dress, black sweater and conservative jewelry seemed the right mix of style and substance. Of course, I did wear the red stilettos. I had to have a little fun.
Oh, and aside from the photograph that I insisted upon to prove to our children that I really did have lunch with the Governor, I had no other interaction with him. While my tablemates laughed at me, you know they wanted the same photo but didn’t have the nerve (or the shoes) to ask. I wonder if my red shoes scared him?
Oh, I almost forgot, dessert was marble cheesecake! I guess the drive was worth it.
What’s Your Soundtrack?
September 2012
Shanghai
The other morning we were huddled around Jack’s computer going through every song we could think of on Spotify. Jane was looking for her soundtrack otherwise described by her teacher as “the song that reflects who you are; represents you in some way.” Of course, this had to be explained in her drama class the next day, so it couldn’t be too close to the truth. She is, after all, a secretive, mysterious and wonderful creature — a 14-year-old girl.
I loved this assignment. I knew exactly the song I would pick for her because is it the song that I have sung to her at night since she was a baby: “You Are My Sunshine” (Elizabeth Mitchell). She is indeed my sunshine even in her darkest moments — as I said, she’s 14. But to her mother, who struggled to bring her into this world more than she will ever understand, she is the sun, the moon and the stars.
Of course, when I suggested this song she rolled her eyes as only Jane can do. “Mom, this is the song that I think reflects me; not the song that you think reflects me.” Such sarcasm at 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Okay, then how about the song that expresses my wishes for you . . . “I Hope You Dance” (Leeann Womack). More eye rolling.
We had a great time with Dad picking songs that made her laugh, like “Popular” from Wicked. “I’m not so sure that’s meant as a compliment, Dad!” Well, then how about “When You’re an Addams” or “Full Disclosure” from the Broadway musical, he retorted. “Dad!” You get the picture — we were having way too much fun and she just wanted to stop with the introspection — especially in front of us.
So, finally, Jack and I turned to U2 — a place from which all wisdom for our generation emanates — “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” Jane laughed but wasn’t sure it was for her and so the tour through the musical library continued.
This got me thinking about my own soundtrack. I could certainly pick “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” (as I suspect many middle-aged — did I just write that — people would).
But, over time, there would be many different tunes. My father called me “Jenny the Jet” when I was a little girl. He took it from the Elton John song, “Benny and the Jets.”
If this were my assignment, my soundtrack would include the following, along with a few others:
• “Betrayed” . . . Patrick O’Hearn
• “Help Me Lord” . . . Bonnie Raitt
• “Wide Open Spaces” . . . Dixie Chicks
• “Strong Enough” . . . Sheryl Crow
• “XXX’s and OOO’s (American Girl)” . . . Trisha Yearwood
• “Home” . . . Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros
• “This Is Us” . . . Emmylou Harris & Mark Knopfler
• “Dark Side�
� . . . Kelly Clarkston
• “Not Ready to Make Nice” . . . Dixie Chicks
I’ll let you figure it out. But the phases or scenes of my so-called life are in there somewhere.
Of course, I have songs in mind for the other two “little” people who light up my life (and, no, Debbie Boone does not make the list). Henry will likely want to kill me if he reads this and then actually listens to “his” song, which is by the Dixie Chicks — I know that is rough on a boy: “Godspeed.”
I am guessing you’ve not heard it. Look it up. Since the moment I heard it, it has reminded me of Henry. It is the last song on my iPod when I go running. I like to finish a run to that tune. It always makes me smile and cry at the same time. If you decide not to look it up, no worries, I plan to dance with him at his wedding to this song; you’ll hear it then.
When it comes to the little lady of the house, it’s not hard to pick, really: “Just the Way You Are” (Bruno Mars). She is perfect in every way to her mother. I even love those imperfections. Her tough upper lip and her heart of gold. Her “I can do that” attitude mixed with a “maybe you should hold my hand” reality.
I love my little marshmallow with the crusty outside and the gooey inside. I love her sense of humor, her smart sass and the fact that at 10 she still can’t sleep without Pinky Bear. That Bear has been to the top of the Eiffel Tower and trekked the Great Wall.
And, Jack . . . well, he’s in my list above but, of course, he had a request: “American Bad Ass” by Kid Rock. I’m afraid to even listen to it.
Truth is that when I hear the song “Forever and Ever Amen” by Randy Travis I think of us, of him. Not much I can say here except that I got lucky. Anyone who knows me, knows that I got lucky. I am hell to live with but I love Jack more than I love myself and he is the best partner a woman like me can have — and there are few men who are up to the task. Very few.