(Written by a former resident of Shanghai)

          When I heard that my tutor would be moving to a new condominium without any help, I was worried about how he would do that, as I knew that it was hard work. He planned to take things down by elevator, load his car, and drive to the garage of the new place across the street.  He’d then take everything up in an elevator to the eleventh floor.  It looked like a lot of hard work to me, but it took only one afternoon.

          I have memories of having had to move several times after I was married.

          My husband’s colleagues helped the first two times, but I had to pack up all the stuff.  I spent two weeks getting that down.  I put all the kitchen things in baskets and took them by bus to my new home. 

          We had to move a third time in 1981.  It appeared that my daughter and I would have to do most of the work ourselves though my little son could help us a little.  I didn’t know anyone to ask, and my husband had heart disease.  We were lucky that the new place was only three blocks away. 

          Then we noticed that at the front of a furniture store there were several porters, and I asked the oldest one if he’d help us move the furniture.  He agreed, and it was a great help.  We used a special device called a tricycle wagon.  It consisted of a large container on two wheels in front of the usual bicycle seat with a third wheel behind the cyclist.  Sometimes that container is behind.  It was unfortunate that none of us knew how to ride the contraption.  We had to push it back and forth between the apartments.  I don’t know how many times we did that.  It was a terrible day, and I swore that I would never do it again.

          In 1990, when I visited my daughter in College Station, Texas, I learned that she and her husband had just agreed to buy a new house in Dallas and planned to move in two weeks.  They lived in a furnished apartment at that time and would have no furniture to move, but I knew it would be a difficult day.

          Day after day passed without any plans being made about the impending move, as my daughter’s work kept her very busy.  Three days before the move was to occur,  she had two men come to the apartment to see what had to be moved.  After the men left, she told me that they would move everything.  She wouldn’t have to do a thing.

          On the moving day, three men in a big van came to the apartment with piles of boxes and lots of sticky tape.  They took everything from the closets, drawers, and kitchen cabinets and packed them in boxes.  Then they placed numbered tags on each one.  There were almost 90.  On boxes with fragile things they drew an arrow indicating how it should be loaded.  Clothes on hangers in the closets were hung in a special box. They loaded the boxes, the television, and the hi-fi system in the van, and drove to my daughter’s new home. It only took them three hours.

          The very next day we went there, too. I saw that the clothes were in the closet, and everything had been placed in drawers and kitchen cabinets.  It looked like we were still in her old home, except that it was much better for she had all new furniture. It was a miracle that my daughter had moved without any help from the family.  The only problem was that it cost a lot of money.  It was fortunate that the bill was paid by my son-in-law’s company.  Even though it was very expensive, I thought moving that way was wonderful.  

          In 1991, when we returned to Shanghai, I read a report in a newspaper about the Shanghai City Government’s move to a new building.  It had all been done in one weekend, and the new offices looked just like the old ones.  When the officials came to work the first day, everything was in its usual place.  I was happy to learn that moving in Shanghai had become much easier – like in America.  I decided that if my husband were assigned a new apartment there, I would agree to move, and shortly thereafter, we learned that we could have an apartment in a very tall building.  It had elevators, so he wouldn’t have to walk the stairs, and we decided to make the move. 

          At the same time, we got a visa to visit America.  When we’d visited there previously, the fresh air, and quiet environment had been good for my husband. He’d felt happier and stronger.  I knew that his health would improve in America, so I decided that we should have a second visit.

          My oldest brother was told that we were going to make the trip and knew that we’d need someone to move our things to the new apartment while we were gone.  We were very happy when he agreed to do it.  I urged him to use a company to move things like the government had done.  I didn’t care about the money; moving that way would be less of a burden.  I hoped, however, that he would keep an eye on every thing they did while we visited America.  That was in 1992.

          After ten months, we returned to Shanghai, and when we entered our new apartment, everything was arranged perfectly.  We were very pleased.  When I learned that my brother and his son had packed everything, I knew that they had worked very hard, and they told me of a mishap that had occurred.

          The day the movers came, the son forgot to pick up his 10-year-old daughter.  She wasn’t in her regular school that day; she had a class in a radio station where the students were learning how to broadcast, and when he didn’t arrive, she didn’t know how to get home.  She was so upset that she cried at first, but then she told a policeman of her problem and he explained how she could get home.  My nephew’s wife felt strongly that this should not have happened, and the two of them had harsh words about it.   

          It has been years since this happened, and I’m hoping that moving companies in Shanghai now provide full moving services – including packing everything – like the company that moved my daughter and her family in Texas.