POOL SAVVY

I placed my water toys carefully by the end of the pool.  I need them to be within easy reach.  Once again, I slide into the warmth of this magnificent pool.  Certainly it’s within reason that I stay at this hotel.  To me most hotels provide the same essentials, a bed, a shower, a TV, and a phone.  I rarely eat in a hotel, if ever.  None of the Shanghai hotels provide real heat and I’ve been to some of the best.  I would never try another hotel in Shanghai, no matter what. I love their pool.  It’s probably about 84F, but there is no one here who could verify that as a fact.  The staff is more than polite.  They greet me with genuine warmth and say, “You are back to swim again.”  I smile and say, “Yes, Yes I am.” They smile again.

 I begin my routine, which will be about fifty minutes. I will use one style. It’s actually an exercise taught to me by Igor Burdenko, a water therapist. I move my arms and my legs. My head clears almost immediately.  As usual the pool is empty, the only sound I hear is my body rippling through the water.  One staff member watches me through the glass partition. He is fully clothed.  I suppose he is there in case I drown so he can call housekeeping and clean up the mess.

 I think I can do this forever, but it’s 10:10pm and they close at exactly 11:00pm.  I look up to see a man and woman place their towels on a chaise and then slip into the pool.  He is probably mid-fifties; she is maybe twenty-five. That is my favorite age for a couple.  If only he had been mid-sixties I would be more pleased.  She is laughing at everything he says.  They are locked together as one as they try to swim.  He looks at me and asks me where I come from.  This is extremely unusual, most other swimmers avert their eyes as if I were not there, never mind seek conversation. I had learned to do the same. Usually most pool intruders are Western. He and she are Asian.

 I answer, “The states, Boston.” “Where are you from?”  

 “I’m from San Diego and she’s from Beijing.” He says.

 “Oh nice”, I say and stupidly, I ask, “What brings you here?”

 “Business, as he looks at his girl friend and then adds, “I come here every two weeks.”

 I’m thinking, why so infrequently as I look again at her.  He goes back to talking to her and she throws her head back laughing.

 After a few more minutes they climb out and share one chaise. It was the chaise that he had placed his towel on.  I will not look.  I cannot look.  I have my pool back. All is safe in my world.  I don’t have to look.
 I reach up to gather one of my swim toys when she strides in.  Oh my goodness! Look at her!  Lord have mercy! She is the “dream” Asian woman, even the laughing girl on the chaise takes a long look, and for a minute or two stops laughing. Gracefully the woman enters the pool. She never notices that I am there or if she does, she doesn’t care.  She does laps and I do my Burdenko thing, around the perimeter of the pool. Our radar keeps us far apart.  She swims one more lap and pulls herself up the ladder. and stretches out on a chaise.  I will not look!  I cannot look! She closes her eyes. I don’t have to look.  I continue to circle the pool.  Soon the pool will close and I will return to my room, perhaps to watch another Steven Segal movie.

 Did I hear correctly? She is asking me, “Why you swim for so long?” Should I answer that, I’m trying to build back arteries so that my heart will get all of the oxygen it needs, in order that I might live longer.  I think not. I look up at her perfect Asian face, her perfect Asian body, and her perfect Asian skin. “What else could I be doing?”

 “Where are you from?” She asks.

  I tell her that I’m from the States.  “Where are you from?”

 “Beijing.” She answers. The laughing girl looks over to her and then smiles as her lover whispers something in her ear.

 “What brings you to Shanghai?” I ask.

 “My uncle manages this hotel.  I come here to rest.”  

 “What do you do in Beijing?” I ask.

 “I’m a graduate student at the university. Do you like this hotel?” She asks, changing the subject.  Before I can reply she says, “This hotel has an aroma.”

“I never have smelled anything peculiar” I reply.

She says, “I said this hotel is older!”

 My only excuse for not hearing correctly is Chinese people have a problem with their L’s, so older might sound like aroma.

“Yes it’s older, but well kept.” I say, hoping she picks up the praise for her uncle.

 She smiles and asks, “If I like China?”

 “Very much.” I reply.

“Do you come often?” She asks.

“Four times a year,” I tell her.

 She asks, “Have you been to Beijing?”

 “Not yet.” I reply.

 “Oh you must come to Beijing” “You can’t come to China without visiting Beijing,” She informs me.

 “I’m sure you will be my guide when I come.”

 “Of course.” She says, both of us knowing that it is more likely that my car will fly me to Beijing.

 The pool attendant, who has not moved from the other side of the partition, comes through and points to the clock.  It was 10:55.   she rose from the chaise, I tried my best not to gape.  She looks down as I am paddling towards the pool stairs.

 “Nice to meet you, see you tomorrow.” She says.

 “Yes” I said, thinking another Steven Segal movie and some Chinese cookies. Would I or could I ask for anything more?