The Six Story Climb (or...Don't Tell Me There is no Elevator?) (Part 1 of 4)

by Steve Reiss (Dalmdad Landscape Photography - www.dalmdad.com and https://www.facebook.com/Dalmdad.)

April 1, 2012: Wuhan, China: Sandy, Raymond’s friend, met us at the corner of her street just as we got out of the cab.  The three of us small-talked while walking back to her apartment.  At least for me, it was very small small-talk since she spoke poor English and Raymond did not translate "everything" she said.  During my time in Asia, I became used to being the only person not in on the conversation, even when your name is mentioned in a rapid stream of Mandarin.

Walking through the grounds of their apartment block complex, she proudly pointed out her and her husband’s brand new car.  I did hear that the only problem was neither she nor her husband had a driver's license yet.  I did not ask how the car got there or what they planned to do with it.  I have found that unless you have a serious question that you really want or need the answer to, it often does not pay to ask.  Otherwise, by the time it becomes obvious the person you are asking the question does not understand what you are saying, the conversation usually ends with you saying "Never mind" or nodding your head "yes" while smiling.  Though I have found these are common ways to get out of conversations that are going nowhere, who knows some of the things I nodded "yes" to.

Though built in the 70's, the buildings of the apartment block...at least from the outside, looked far older.  While this is not a picture from their apartment building block, the medium-height white block towers in the foreground of the following picture are somewhat similar. 

We reached her building and somehow I heard and understood that she lived on the sixth floor.  I also heard and understood that there was no elevator.

My overall impression of the building from its outside appearance (white concrete with brown chemical pollution stains) and the fact that the building did not have an elevator left me with no idea what to expect of the inside of Sandy’s building and her apartment.  My expectations, based entirely on my observation of the outside, were extremely low, eventhough both Sandy and her husband were professionals and at least wealthy enough to afford a new car.  I also did not know what to expect from myself and whether I would make it up the six flights of stairs without embarrassing myself or passing out. 

The stairway had raw concrete floors and walls, with little interior light and two apartments on each floor.  The stairway was dreary and making me expect even less than I had been previously expecting.  Even in Bayview, the New York City public housing in which I was raised until I was 12, the stairways were painted and well lit.  Though admittedly,  the China stairs lacked the pee and pot smells common to Bayview.

I made it up to the 6th floor without losing it.  I made it even with having to carry my backpack, filled with my camera, clothes, and a “China emergency kit” (umbrella, mesquito repellant, sun-block, Cipro and hydration tabs, and hand sanitizer).  I was kinda happy about making it up the stairs without incident because every once in a while I notice that I am able to do some things I was not able to do 100 pounds ago.  Also, when I met Sandy’s elderly mother-in-law, who carries groceries and things up and down the stairs a couple of times a day, I realized it would have been absolutely humiliating to not have made it.

When Sandy opened the door to their apartment, I was happily surprised and all my original low and admittedly stereotypical expectations were wrong.  The apartment was brightly lit with freshly painted white walls, built in bookcases, and polished hardwood floors.  The bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom, and dining area were up a few small steps from the living room.

I pitied whoever it was that had to carry their huge widescreen flat panel TV up the stairs.

NEXT: A home cooked Chinese dinner at Sandy's...