The morning began as you might expect – I slept in till 6 and would have remained in my warm hovel of happiness except for family devotions. So I clambered out of bed, tripped down the stairs, and fumbled around until I found the life-drink [coffee]. And so began the day.
I was prepped, packed, and panicked when 8:15 hit. I hugged
my family members goodbye (admiring my newly 15-year-old sister in a birthday
dress) before traversing the long trek from the front door to the van.
It was quite exhausting.
Soon, I was underway! I arrived at the airport, got
oriented, obtained my pass, checked my bags, and texted my compatriots to
inform them that I was there 2 hours early.
They replied saying they were already here and asked I’d
like to join them for breakfast.
Sufficiently mortified at my failed attempt to impress by my
earliness, I went and had a second breakfast with a co-worker. Soon, we were
boarding a small plane (carrying about 24 passengers, so I knew it was
mandatory to have at least 1 flight attendant… which they did), and after the
address from the cabin crew, captain, and first officer, I tried very hard to
not picture certain characters from my favorite BBC radio drama.
Accomplishments of the first flight included the completion of a book and the
continuation of another.
After a quick layover in San Francisco, we boarded “the
mon-stah”. An enormous Boeing that could hold more passengers, fly further, and
sufficiently engulf me to the point of helping me recognize my insignificance
in this vast world.
And the number of White people aboard… me and one other
chap. For a grand total of 2…
3 movies, half a book, 2 attempts at Sudoku, numerous failures
at Pacman, owning a game of digital pool, and a few hours of sleep later, we
arrived at Beijing. There had been a lot of confusion about what we needed to do
when we arrived
– some instructions had said that it would be a simple transfer flight. Still other legends told the tale that we would get off, they would “sweep” the plane, and we would get back on again. Darker tales told of the necessity to completely re-check our baggage. And one particular myth had something to do with a pogo stick, egg-whisk, and some fellow named DeKref.
– some instructions had said that it would be a simple transfer flight. Still other legends told the tale that we would get off, they would “sweep” the plane, and we would get back on again. Darker tales told of the necessity to completely re-check our baggage. And one particular myth had something to do with a pogo stick, egg-whisk, and some fellow named DeKref.
We didn’t really know what to expect.
Finally, we landed in Beijing and after collecting
ourselves, we collected our carry-ons, collected each other, then collectively,
we exited the aircraft. Right inside the gate, there was a Chinese gentleman
holding a sign saying “Chongqing”, the name of our final destination. So we
pulled over to wait for further instructions. After babbling off in Chinese to
the small group for the longest time, he walked right up to me, ignoring my
futile attempts to hide behind my co-workers and gave me detailed directions in
English on how I was to proceed. I know they were detailed because it took him so long to
say.
But I didn’t have a clue as to what he’d actually said.
Then it dawned on me – my travel companions were not Chinese, but as they were Asian, this flight director had inappropriately assumed that I was the only non-Chinese speaking member of the party.
My, how he was wrong.
After escorting us through security, our guide brought us to
“the holding room”, a place with only one exit – onto a bus that would take us
to our final flight. There was no way for me to enjoy the Beijing airport, so I
decided to let my grief show.
I took a nap on the hard benches.
I woke up just as the guide was opening the doors to bring
us to the bus to bring us to the plane to bring us to Chongqing. I brought
myself to my senses, brought my carry-on to the door and brought myself to
overcome my grief at not seeing the Beijing airport, and climbed aboard.
The flight was uneventful, and in no time we were down to
collect our baggage at the Chongqing airport. Then, after boarding a van that
had been reserved specially for us, we drove for an hour to reach our hotel.
Still struggling to stay awake, I obtained my room key, discovered that
breakfast was to be on the 39th floor, affirmed that the van left at
8:00 the next morning, and stumbled into an elevator.
After feverishly dragging my suitcases into my room, I
pulled up the computer, emailed my family to ensure them that I had arrived
safely, and collapsed onto the bed.
*I would have thought “interesting”, but I was too tired to
finish the sentence
**Apologies for the lack of pictures; some will be
forthcoming
