The Triumvirate

We were led to chose Shanghai by a waiter at a local Chinese restaurant, a college student named Max, whom we got to know because of our love of Lu Lu's Seafood in St. Louis. Max would wait on us and make small talk. After about a year of conversations with Max, he was telling us about his extended family in Shanghai. He learned that our then eight and six year old daughters were taking Chinese lessons, and he told us how, if we ever came to Shanghai his mother would welcome our children into her home "as her own"--and it we came to realize it wasn't a false offer; Max meant it. He was moving back to Shanghai in a matter of months, and when he learned we were considering moving to China he offered to help us in any way he could, once there. We got the feeling Max really meant it. He was bright and an entrepreneur in the making (studying at St. Louis University) and we told him we would take him up on his offer. (more on this: we did)

The second element was a radio interview I did for one of my books while on book tour in Denver. Off-air I mentioned to the host that we were considering moving the family to China. Her face lit up. Her daughter worked in the American consulate in Shanghai as did her husband (an executive in personal security details) -- "they would be happy to help you if you end up in Shanghai."

The idea of a pair of Americans, both in the consulate, was too tempting. We began corresponding with Liz, the radio personality's daughter, and she was a cordial and welcoming as her mother's offer. Liz began explaining to us the benefits of Shanghai (cosmopolitan, cultural, many good international schools) as well as outlining some of the hurdles it takes to gain access to China as a resident. We were seriously leaning toward Shanghai.

The final straw was an article written by an American ex-pat in Shanghai. She described her daily life, living in a lane house -- the trials and joys of Shanghai living. It was so well written, so compelling, and told of a city that could be navigated by foreigners while, at the same time, being entirely Chinese in flavor and experience.

We booked flights for a visit to Shanghai and began setting up a dozen meetings. We didn't want to be away from the kids for too long -- it would be quick: six days. In that time we would have to determine: 1) can we actually move the family to China? 2) Could I find work there to justify the trip? 3) Was there a school the girls would like? 4) Would we qualify for the appropriate residential permit and visas? 5) Was it actually something we wanted to do? Would such a trip enrich the family or stress it?

Two weeks before we were to leave, my father died after a long illness. No matter how prepared you are for such an event, you're shaken to your core by such a loss. In taking over his affairs, I soon realized I'd entered a new phase of my life, a phase for which I'd been preparing all these years. It was a watershed event, and I felt the timing for our wild trip could not be better. I was entering a new dynamic. Moving away for a year, starting fresh, seemed somehow to answer a lot of questions for me. I am a workaholic -- I work 11-14 hours a day -- I write at least some part of every day, seven days a week, and have for over twenty-five years. A trip like this seemed to offer the chance to continue writing, but take-in new stimuli, to "stop and smell the roses." My father would understand such an urge, and though not the adventurous type himself; I had been most of my adult life, and I always felt he secretly admired that in me. Shanghai was worth at least exploring.

When M and I left for Shanghai two weeks later, I was determined to try my best to make this trip happen. The moment we landed, I knew we had our work cut out for us.