Living Like a Local

It's been over a month since we moved and since we've embraced a new way of living. It's true -- to a certain extent, the new place came with a new lifestyle. We're much more "in" with the locals now. Our neighbors don't speak English (or Japanese, as was the case at the old place). Our lobby is no longer manned by young, uniformed employees (in fact, it's not manned at all). And there are bugs. Big ones.

This guy was as big as my fist. 

But I love it. I love sitting at the big dining room table and writing. I love watching the sunsets from the windows in our living room. I love parking my new bicycle (with basket!) in the communal bike parking shack.

Of course the place isn't immune from issues (we live in China after all), but it has soul and I appreciate soul. Like the nice old man who lives across the way with his birds (presumably) and is the only man in China (other than my husband) who lets me off of the elevator first.

The building ("Willow Court") dates back to 1934 and holds all kinds of secrets. Like the resident doctor who, during the Cultural Revolution, was forced to work as a janitor, but would still answer house calls (on this phone).

We're known around these parts as the young foreign couple with the small dog, and hopefully we're not invading the locals' space, just giving them something to talk about.

Apartment Photo Shoot

What a weekend of worldwide love and happiness! Two weddings and an engagement took place in London, San Diego, and Cape Cod. Congratulations to Kim & Alex, Dina & Robby, and Jill & Clay! Although it would have been hard to be in three places at once, it’s times like these that make me homesick and yearn to be closer to friends and family. 

So besides sending our thoughts to loved ones this weekend, we worked on bringing you photos of our new place. Enjoy!

Zhoumo kuaile!

So here's the story: We met our new landlord through our moms (the landlord's and mine), 6,500 miles away back in our hometown (the landlord's and mine). They (our moms) happened to be chatting at the gym one day and discovered that both their children happened to live in Shanghai. One had just finished renovating a 1930s apartment back to its former glory; the other just happened to want to move. 

The old apartment was just never us, as much as we tried hanging our art, putting up our photos, and displaying our treasures (remember the ladders?). The building was cold and sterile, not mention the fact that the ceiling leaked and mold was growing on the walls. 

Full of style and character, the new apartment is done impeccably well. If Mr. Gatsby would have had a small home in Shanghai, this would have been it. It makes me want to get a flapper dress made at the fabric market and take up smoking with one of those stick things (a quellazaire, Google tells me); Mike can wear his tuxedo and call his friends, "old sport." 

This weekend we'll be making a few purchases for the new place and doing a proper photo shoot because it's deserving of one. In the meantime, here's another preview: