Welcome to Beijing

Door to door, Hunnington beach to my Hostel in Beijing, took about 26 hours. This includes a nine hour layover in Hong Kong, half of which I spent chatting with a potter from South Africa on the way to visit her family in New Zealand. I met her at Starbucks while drinking tea and reading the new Economist I just bought - AKA life at the Hong Kong Airport is not much different than life at home. We labored on our attempts at conversation, but were both exhausted, and really, what can you talk to a complete stranger about for more than 4 hours?

I almost didn't make the flight to Hong Kong. I forgot to pack my paper tickets, which, though I know I should have packed them, I forgot after being led to believe I didn't need them. After running from the Cathay Pecific desk to the American desk at the next terminal, paying $100, and running back, all was right with the world and I was on my way. It amazed me that in the age of the internet I wouldn't have been able to board that plane without a piece of paper. When's the last time you used a paper ticket? Notch that up as the first of many lessons I'll learn on this adventure.

I arrived exhausted in Beijing, quickly made it though immigration and customs and found myself standing curbside at the airport, probably looking very confused. A young girl asked what I was looking for and before I could finish saying "the shuttle bus to XiDan" I had paid 16 Yuan ($2), the door of the bus closed behind me and before I could sit down we were off. It all happened so fast, but I was in Beijing headed into the city. I grabbed a seat and immediately my seatmate asked about my trip in excellent English. She gave me advice on life in Beijing and helped cross the street and hail a taxi once at XiDan.

So everything was going smoothly, then the taxi driver, whom didn't speak a word of English (or so he wanted me to think), drove me half way around the city trying to go ten blocks. I tried telling him (in broken Chinese) where to go, but all attempts to communicate were fruitless. I finally got sick of the charade and jumped out, and through the extreme generosity of two gentleman on the street, used the bus to get to the hostel. For a moment though I had felt totally helpless - confused with no idea where I was, unable to really communicate and in the hands of total strangers. Though it was only about ten, my long travels and the many time changes made it feel much later. I was quickly becoming paranoid about losing my wallet and passport - constantly thinking I lost them, finding them, moving them and then repeating. I had one of those moments, I'm sure not the last of this trip, where I just felt totally helpless and beyond hope, but in retrospect, I was just lost and tired. I hope eventually to understand this difference.

I was so relieved to get to the hostel and check in, and after fumbling around in the dark to not wake my new roomates, I was, finally, lying in a bed - safe and confortable. My heart was still pounding from the events of the evening and thoughts of what's to come. Sleep was hard to come by. Although I was extremely tired, I lay there with thoughts shooting through my mind, replaying the cab incident, thinking about the next day, and mostly thinking "OK, so I made to Beijing, now what?" More on that later, but for now, I'm safe and confortable here in Beijing. Zai Jian.