Sometime last fall — maybe about the time that the barbed wire went up around the garden (see Stalag on Yan Qing) – we got a little restless. Much as I loved my house and my lane, we started to think that maybe it was time to explore another lane, live in another corner of Shanghai. And truth be told, the life forms that raced through the walls got to be a bit much. Two years ago, when my son complained about the scrabbling in his ceiling while he was doing his homework, I dismissed his complaints and told him they were just cats. But after the sewer replacement (see The Big Dig), they must have been displaced, because lately they have been sxrambling through the walls day and night and squeaking during their battles. Even so, I was very reluctant to leave home, which should say something about how much I loved the place.
But when my friend Sara mentioned that a lovely house just across from her in her lane was available, we figured that there was no harm in taking a look. The tangerine tree, laden with fruit, grabbed me. 
The landlord offered improvements: new kitchen cabinets, central heating with radiators, a walk-in closet to be built out, painting inside and out, curtains to our specification, and any furniture that we would like to have made. When we sighed and said that we would miss our balcony off our bedroom, he offered to knock out the master bedroom wall and add one. So we bit and decided to move after all the renovations were completed — three weeks later! (Anyone who has lived through months of planning and building elsewhere in the world, as we have many times, read and weep!)
I admit that we had our doubts as it rained nonstop in February and we received progress reports from Sara just outside the door or stopped by to check ourselves.
views of the patio 2 weeks before move-in
the balcony unfolds
bedroom, ceiling leak from balcony, and channels for pipes for heating -- just days to go
Wouldn’t you know it, when the army of packers/movers arrived for three days of hauling, I got sick. Not a little sick, but clothes-drenching, teeth-chattering ill. A couple of days into the move, I finally found my thermometer. In a “cool” moment, it registered almost 103 F (that’s nearly 40 C). I’ll spare the details, but I was tested by a careful Aussie doctor for flu, malaria, and dengue — and questioned about potential leptospirosis exposure. He confirmed that I’d been vaccinated against typhoid and hepatitis, all letters. Finally, he settled on kidney infection as the likely diagnosis, but after a round of antibiotics to no avail, I moved on to an anti-parasitic and began to improve. But it was another week before I felt like opening any of the boxes spread around the house.
Most of the move is kind of hazy. But I’ve got to hand it to the cheerful guys who waved a wand and got us to the new house.
Here’s a shot of furniture being delivered to Yan Qing Lu back in 2005 and another of a neighbor making suggestions from the lane.
It wasn’t any easier to get the big pieces out the windows. Fortunately, the new house has a wider staircase and higher ceilings at the landings, so they carried everything up — all the way to the 4th floor. They were highly amused at my pig troughs — where I grow herbs in the garden — and asked whether I had bought them from a farmer. (No.)
One thing that surprised me was seeing everything loaded into a Post Office truck., especially onsidering that everything else belonging to the company — the movers’ T-shirts and boxes, stickers, and tape — were all labeled “Santa Fe Relocators.”
Post Office trucks, the supervisor explained, can go anywhere. If we used our trucks, the police might stop us from driving into the lane. So for this kind of move, we hire the Post Office truck and driver. Gotta love that ingenuity!
I never said goodbye to our house on Yan Qing Lu. Wang ayi and my husband John did the last lookover as I lay quaking under the covers. But just outside my kitchen door on my last trip, I noticed this escapee from the stuff hauled out to the trash:
I guess this says it all!
And as we pulled up at the new house, there was John’s desk being delivered in a bicycle van.
As son Christopher said, we have fantastic memories of times on Yan Qing Lu, but those times are gone. Change happens and we might as well embrace it. (He has grown up.) So now I am writing from a new tingzijian. Stay tuned, and I’ll let you know about life in the new lane.