To get to Cambodia, I flew through Shanghai. Here is what I wrote in the Shanghai airport, after nearly 24 hours of travel and no coffee:
So I'm sitting in the Shanghai airport. And while I don't have a visa, I have stepped foot in China (I went outside the terminal during my layover; shhh, don't tell!)!
Before getting off the plane that took me from San Fransisco to Shanghai, every passenger and crew member had to wait in their seats to be screened for swine flu. So, promptly upon pulling up to the gate, Chinese health officials entered the plane, wearing white quarantine suits that you might see in a movie when someone's contracted Ebola, complete with goggles and face masks. They pointed a laser gun at everyone's face to take his/her temperature, and with a red X on your forehead, you look like you're being scanned at the grocery store. If you have a fever, you and anyone sitting within 3 rows of you will be quarantined. In China. In the hospital. Which flight attendants call prison. (Last week, a handful of them were quarantined.)
Part of me hoped I had a fever just to be able to look at the experience in retrospect and laugh. Part of me was also terrified of being quarantined, and then, not having a visa, becoming a prisoner in limbo. Fortunately, no one had a fever.
The airport is spotless and sparking. There are recycling cans and fountains of 'sterilized water' (which I question, as the water tasted like dirt, and I had stomach problems that night, so it was either the water or the airplane food...equal demons in my book). As I waited in line for immigration (which I had to go through even though I only had a few hour layover), they played lovely classical Chinese instrumental music. Lovely until they played 'Memory' (yes, the one from 'Cats'). As I write this, sitting outside the Hope Star Coffee Cate, I hear 'Colors of the Wind.' Nonetheless, I'm happy to take advantage of the last clean, non-squat toilets I might see in a while.
Welcome to China. Zaijian!
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