up where the air is clear

This past Sunday morning started out gray and drizzly. Some nomads I'd never met before had invited me to go kite flying with them, and I half expected a phone call to cancel the fun. But, the weather report promised blue skies in the afternoon, and it delivered a perfect 10.
At 1:30 I made my way to the Science and Technology Museum metro stop in Pudong. Pudong is to the east of the river that divides Shanghai; Puxi is to the west. Puxi is where most everybody lives, but Pudong lays claim to the Shanghai skyline, expat living, and clean, open spaces. This particular metro stop had two exits that opened up into a large, tiled square. Flat, public areas aren't easy to come by in Shanghai, so the square was filled with skateboarders and rollerbladers, most of whom I assumed were regulars. As I waited for my company to arrive, I watched teenage skateboarders doing tricks on the steps to the metro entrance and little toddlers learning to rollerblade. Hands behind their backs, oversized helmets on their heads, in perfect form and unison, they methodically pushed one foot back, then the other, and looked like a line of too-wise-for-their-age turtles making their way across the street.
Though I'd never seen them before, I recognized the nomads immediately; it's not often I see such a large and diverse group of young people hanging around together here. They included a few Chinese, a Singaporean or two, a couple Estonians, an Austrian, and a Turkish-American. Together we headed over to Century Park, the largest green area in Shanghai and conveniently within walking distance of the metro.
I don't think we ever actually made it into the park, though. We ran into this old man who flies his kite on the bridge to Century Park every weekend. He uses a metal, wheel-like contraption to spool his wire string (it needs to be strong to fight the wind) and meditatively walks forwards and backwards to keep his kite afloat up to 900 meters away. He was kind enough to show us how it worked and let us fly (and lose) some of his kites, but after two people got cut by the kite strings and a few others got worn out struggling with the strong winds, most of us petered out and played some Frisbee instead.
I'm an extremely inexperienced Frisbee player, and for the first 30 minutes usually a very bad one as well, but the group was extremely welcoming and patient with all newcomers. At any one time there were 8 or 10 of us in a circle on the bridge, trying to avoid hitting – usually successfully – the passersby who included: kite sellers, kite buyers, a wedding party, lovebirds, families with young children, a number of foreigners – some with Chinese companions, one of whom told her friend quite confidently that I was Japanese – pet owners out walking their dogs, and silly, inexperienced rollerbladers who got a strange thrill out of rolling down the l5 degree slant on the bridge. One guy hurtled unsteadily past us, victoriously reached the straightaway without falling, and then promptly threw his legs out from under him and landed flat on his bum. We had some random Chinese folks join in on the Frisbee-playing, as well as some small children and a few dogs, too. It was all good fun, and the sun moved steadily towards the horizon so that by the time we left, it was already 5:30 and nearly dusk.
Most of the group went to dinner with the kite man, but a few of us went for coffee instead before going our separate ways. We went to a Mediterranean-style café/bar called Barbarossa near People's Square in the middle of town. It sits on a little man-made island and is tucked away from all the hustle and bustle by some trees and a rather peaceful park. We sat on embroidered cushions, flipped through a shisha menu, and sipped illy coffee, and I was reminded how easy it is in Shanghai to forget that you're in China.
After coffee, I met up with an old high school roommate of mine who's here in Shanghai on a month-long work assignment. We decided it's been 7 years since we've seen each other, so it really was quite a treat to get to spend the evening with her. She's Bangladeshi, studied and works in London and so has a thick British accent, and got a degree in Chinese literature and so speaks Chinese fluently. We met up at Xiangyang Market, otherwise known as the knock-off market, where my friend wanted to buy some cheap, warm, winter wear. I usually find trips to Xiangyang with friends entertaining because the peddlers can be quite aggressive and usually pass me up for my foreign-looking companions. It was especially entertaining this time, though, because my friend could hold her own in Chinese and is quite a decent bargainer as well. I worked up an appetite just watching her bargain, so we looked for the closest non-fast-food sit-down restaurant and ended up at what we thought was a typical Chinese restaurant but which we found out was supposedly French cuisine, complete with "horse d'oerves." After dinner my friend struggled to decide whether she wanted a $10 manicure, but we settled on coffee and dessert at a nearby coffeeshop instead. One lychee-flavored jelly drink and a couple chocolate waffles later, I was perfectly content and tired after the most eventful Sunday of my stay thus far.