I woke up at 5:30 and, for the first time since I'd arrived, desperately wanted to stay in bed; alas, that was not meant to be. Damn, I wish I had bought the t-shirt that stated, "Shanghai is the city that doesn't sleep for 24 hours" as that was becoming my experience. We arrived in the town of Tongli, a beautiful thousand-year-old canal town, got out at the depot and boarded the tram to the front gate where tickets were purchased; I suddenly felt like I was entering Disneyland. We watched the fisherman beat their cormorants to hand over their catch, walked over bridges and took a ride on the wooden gondolas. The bulk of the tourists there were local and so, as a large group of western women, we were very popular. We had our pictures taken as much as any attraction that could be found. We sat down to an expansive lunch- dish after dish of things I couldn't bring myself to put in my mouth were placed on the table. I quickly employed a childhood talent of appearing to eat while pushing food around my plate and smiling a lot. It was a lovely day, but lack of sleep, dehydration, and excessive heat tested all of our limits. We came back home ready to collapse.

Lisa, my roommate, and I decided to go to the supermarket to pick up a few things we needed. We started moving up and down the crowded aisles of the mega-store, and I felt the cranky start to set in. Then it happened- my first "I don't want to be in China right now" moment of the trip. I suddenly turned to Lisa, tears welling up in my eyes and told her I needed to get out of the Century Mart right away. She took one look at me and immediately started searching for the way out. We followed the signs that pointed towards the exit. They of course led to a locked door. We found another arrow claiming to lead to an exit- another locked door. I was getting to that snippy point where I was pushing people and making biting remarks (which might have been insulting had anyone understood a word I was saying). Another ten minutes of this process and we found ourselves back on the street. We booted it back to the apartment.

I grabbed a glass of water and spilled it all over the living room. Lisa started cleaning it up. I decided wine was in order, went to open a bottle and sprayed it all over the kitchen. At that point Lisa sat me down, threw my new t-shirt at me and stated that it was time to SMORK. We dressed in identical outfits, grabbed Ola and went to drink. It's amazing how a little wine and a misprinted, fuzzy shirt can make everything better.

Today I'm taking it easy. I slept in, ate a western style breakfast and am now seated at a coffee shop writing and enjoying a little alone time. I'm managing to block out the cacophony of non-interpretable language, ignore the men at the table next who can't stop staring at me, and am not bothered by the sounds of traffic, jack-hammers and trucks playing twinkly versions of Xmas music in May. I guess I've managed to accept the motto on our new t-shirts: SMORK- Bad things can not be stopped.