Refreshment.

"Shanghai is the new America, the new L.A.--the new land of opportunity," Jack, one of the other teachers who joined the same program as me, Go China, Appalachians Abroad, (which is a great falsehood of a lie, clearly, as I'm not from Appalachia, but I digress). He wasn't directly referring to the other 20,000+ Americans sharing the city of Shanghai with him, though it was true; Jack was quoting the Chinese and their realization of China's forthcoming dominance. The Shanghainese, unlike those in Henan province, knew.

I listened as I clutched the hang bars of Shanghai's immaculate and extensive 14 line metro system. I already felt a world apart from the China I thought I was beginning to understand, the agricultural Henan province that still teemed with an alarming amount of people and money. My travel companion of the weekend, Wes, and I knew instantaneously once we exited the train from Zhengzhou; we were in Shanghai. It wasn't the sudden immensity of tall buildings, we still had quite of few of those in Zhengzhou. No, it was the great blanketing of English--what my job was doing to create--it was everywhere, or so it seemed in comparison. And while Shanghai didn't have the cleanest air of the country, in fact, the China Daily recently showed the smog to be at a recording setting high, it did have streets that were undeniably clean. Something else Zhengzhou lacked.

"Here," Jack continued, popping my thoughts, "you can be an English teacher by day and anyone you choose by night."

I imagined the possibilities for a moment, what it all could mean for me. What my experience could have been reversely instead had I applied early and selected Shanghai as my new home. In fact, Jack told me, so L.A. it was he had already auditioned for a small role in a movie. He didn't have to be good, he continued. I knew, face. Even Shanghai still revolved around the foreign face, for now. At the young age of 22 and a recent graduate just like me, Jack already had a Chinese business card. He wanted to be a part of China's next wave.

It was weird, but as I listened to this and more Shanghai talk, I felt more out of touch and out of place. As I savored the familiar food at an American chain restaurant based in Iowa's neighboring, Chicago, Illinois, called Morton's, with Wes' visiting grandparents, the feeling continued. As we talked about country club arguments and college basketball, neither of which I had any strong opinions about, the itch persisted. As I danced for hours to American imported club songs with some of our Shanghai acquaintances, all fellow AAers--Appalachians Abroad, who again, weren't from Appalachia. The nagging remained.

I felt overwhelmed and in shock. Was it possible to get culture shock in the same country? In reality, the truth was, the Shanghai I was experiencing wasn't the China that I had categorized in my mind based from my past 3 1/2 month time here. I was in an American sense of place, which included a dappling of Chinese characteristics. However, I felt if one blinked hard enough (and lived in downtown Pudong), one wouldn't even notice the Chinese nature of it all. Pudong is the financial district of Shanghai; it's new, sparkly and littered with Prada, Gucci and Louis Vuitton. Also calling it home are Shanghai's Pearl Tower and the world's third tallest building, the World Financial Center. I felt as foreign as I ever have here in China. I tossed my head back in an awkward neck extension. I was transfixed by all the imposing tall buildings. I imagined I was in a time machine to the future, even though I knew I was here in the now. Culture shock, in China, oh my Lady Gaga, it was true.

(Yes, that cut off picture is a store for Prada.)

I continued to be perplexed as I tried to respond to the Chinese waiters with a polite xiexie. "You're welcome," most everyone, it seemed, replied back.

I was confused. Where was I?

To no surprise, there is a KFC (in fact, there are more KFCs in China than in the U.S.) and a Starbucks on every corner, or so it seemed, again. However, on Saturday afternoon, I chose to get my caffeine kick from another locale, something more original Shanghai. So instead, I sipped my cafe latte on the top deck of the Signal Tower. It's a historic building from 1907, just like it's called, it used to be a signal tower for the important port town Shanghai used to be during that time. The signal tower is the only one of its kind in the far east that still retains a Spanish style of architecture. Shanghai's old European influence is still very evident today, especially on the Bund, where I was sitting. I opened my English book and relaxed. I had decided to venture the city solo for the day and wanted to unwind with the words of Kurt Vonnegut. Yet, I didn't protest when the man next to me prodded, where are you from? The question a traveler can never avoid.

Though quite older, he too was a traveler and as he later revealed, from Taiwan (or Chinese Taipei as the people of mainland China will tell you officially). Now, however, he lived in Beijing. Before that he had been a Los Angeles resident of 6 years. He knew Iowa, he said. I responded, yes, undoubtedly you've probably driven through it like so many have, but few know or truly understand Iowa.

He did, however, understand the grandness of Shanghai and how different it was from the rest of the country. Even its second largest city and capital to the north, Beijing, was a great contrast. We both knew.

I told him I was here to meet up with some friends, escape from Zhengzhou, and relax in the big city. As he told me, he was there for refreshment. Refreshment from Beijing? Yes, indeed, he said.

I continued to ignore Vonnegut and listened to Edward, as he told me his English name was, regale me with tales of how he thought China had changed, just in the past 10 years. Half a century ago you wouldn't even be able to recognize it now. I nodded, while my emphasis in Asian studies hadn't quite made sense to my Iowa college mates or me, to be frank; back in China, it did. I imagined the Cultural Revolution, the Hundred Flowers Campaign, the Great Leap Forward and all the cultural repercussions of these historical events. Occasionally I still think about the stories some of the older people I pass in the streets have to tell.

Edward chatted with an enthusiasm I couldn't help but catch. Indeed, we were living in an exciting time to be in China.

As he said, I already felt refreshed.

Then the weekend was gone and I was very aware of my position, on a train heading back to Zhengzhou. As we emerged from the train station's exit, we looked at Zhengzhou and its lack of English or pinyin with fresh eyes, "Welcome back to China."

As I take stock now, of my own time thus far in China, I imagine how my life would be different if I was living in Shanghai. I've realized I'm actually quite thankful for where I am. Zhengzhou may be the backwater to Shanghai, but I've actually grown to love it. Maybe. I do know this, when I reflect back on my experience as an English professor, it will have been different and perhaps refreshing in its own sense.