(101 Things About Shanghai) Asking Permission to be Legal Laowai

Today I did what every foreign expert must do at least once a year (or like last year when I changed jobs and visas about three times in as many months) and I made my pilgrimage to the Public Security Bureau to renew my residence permit. It is located (according to my school’s assistant) exactly  1.1 km from the Science and Technology Museum metro stop on line 2.

I know it well.

I know that the Lawsons at exit three has a wall of refrigerated fake sushi, filled with ham and mayonnaise and cucumber, that tastes awesome after hours spent waiting for your number to be called.

At the top of the escalator, there is always a bootleg English book vendor selling exactly the same books as every other bootleg book vendor (mostly chick lit and entrepreneurial/business pep talks) and a spread of week old People and In Touch magazines.

This time, the long underground tunnel leading to exit 3 was lined with ads focusing on two distinct themes: on the left side as you are exiting are dozens of lovely calligraphy and brush painting prints, possibly advertising an exhibition or maybe just a whim of some artistic wing of the government trying to show off  for the Expo.

On the right side, stretching for maybe 100 meters, were print after print of swimsuit ads featuring dozens of women in bikinis and stilettos. It was a curious juxtaposition.

I always come to this metro station in the heat of summer- when my residence permit expires, it’s either May, June or July.  I’d love to be able to walk the 1.1 km in bitter cold for once.

It’s in Pudong, so the roads are wide and pretty empty and there are trees. The sidewalks are wide and clean.

It’s pretty much the opposite of where I live now, where I tend to walk on the road because the sidewalk is full of shirtless old men playing cards or baskets of live chickens or washtubs full of eels or someone just taking a nap. Pudong smells nicer, to be honest. Maybe it is just new enough to have not yet acquired that Xuhui whiff that is particularly whiffy in Summer- like stewing garbage and pee and backed up sewage, hitting you at random points along your journey.

I kind of like the walk to the PSB- it’s quiet and you get a lot of sidewalk space so nobody rams into you and you pass a lot of other foreigners also going to get their visas renewed. There is very little other reason to go out of exit 3- except maybe to look at the lovely stand of trees just to the right or to gawk at a lot of government buildings.

I was in and out in just two hours this time- I was 103rd in line, which was lovely. I played Battleship on my iPod and am proud to report that Admiral Bob Seamonster kicks serious maritime ass.