Last year on this blog, I mentioned that I spent half of 1985 in Shanghai with my mom. I was 12, and had only a few friends my age in the city. So I remember quite clearly what it took to make phone calls across town to reach them. I had to walk down five flights of stairs, ask the old man at the front office to dial the desired number on the rotary phone, and then shout into the mouthpiece while trying to understand what my friend on the other end was saying, since most of what was coming through was static.
Our 2008 SIM cards, of no use now
This morning, when I went to the telecom office to find out why the SIM cards I bought for our phones last year weren't working anymore, I was told that they had been idle for too long and were now just waste paper (fei zhi). What a pity, I thought. And then I bought two new ones.