Dichotomy

As soon as I saw Gao's friendly smile behind a sign with my name on it, all settled down in my tumultuous mind. Now I sit here in Portia's home writing. It's hard to believe just two days ago my mom drove me through an icy dark morning to the airport in Cedar Rapids.
Portia lives in an upscale expat community right outside of Shanghai. Natlie, her daughter, greeted me and asked me how I already knew her name. Her mom talks easily and listens to my opinions, already.
This morning Portia took me to the supermarket. The place was packed. They had everything - washclothes, rugs, shoes, eggs, fish. At the checkout line the thin little cashier couldn't ring up the jumprope Portia was buying because it didn't have a barcode. Portia whispered to me, "Sometimes I wonder why some things don't work around here and then I remember I'm actually in China." There are little glitches like that everywhere. Dreyers ice cream instead of Breyers. Pirated movies everywhere - even in seemingly legitimate stores.The disorder is striking everywhere.
Yesterday in the car, billboards filled up the highway - advertisements for plush cars and glittering watches all around. And then also right off the highway old crumbling houses spot the suburbs. Most are tin-roofed. Garbage is piled up. Massive bundles of recyled goods sit waiting for collection some time.
I am just skimming the surface of this division in China though. I don't understand it well yet.
A few other thoughts: The sky is hazy grey here most of the time. Fruit is an excellent dessert. My body already feels somewhat cleansed from classic American oils and toxins. Chinese children are beautiful. Most Chinese women have gorgeous hands.