Travel days...

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Travel days for me are never dull. I don’t know if it is because I’m blessed with “good luck” or if it is because I’m my father’s daughter and particular people and situations gravitate to me like flies to shit. Maybe it’s my uncontrollable urge to smile and laugh when I have no other response or my awkward way of not quite saying no, more or less a “we’ll see, maybe, perhaps” stumbles out of my mouth…

I finished my packing this morning, horrified at the monster my backpack became. I swung it onto my back, did a few lunges—the only true test as to whether I’ll be able to withstand its weight over the next few weeks. Sure enough, I was able to lunge across my bedroom, so I kept going. Closing the door to 4-412 I left my apartment for the last time, stepping into the horrid 7am humidity (in jeans and running shoes—have to wear the bulky items, saves room in the pack). Made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare, found my way to the ticket counters. Much more simpler here, I just walk up to the counter and give them my passport. No questions asked. I winced as I plopped my pack down on the scales, 25 kilos, but the ticket agent didn’t blink. He slapped a tag on it and sent it on its way.

Found my gate with no troubles, entertained some stares and snickers, but it was short-lived, I boarded the plane within 10 minutes. My good luck begins to kick in about now. The woman with the screaming 2 year old settles in next to me. I leave my headphones in till I’m tapped on the shoulder and I feel the plane in motion. Kid still screaming. The plane lurches to a stop on the runway and that is where we stay for the next 45 minutes. I can’t put my headphones back in until we reach 10,000 feet (or a like a billion meters, I’m still not very good at the conversion), so I sit there…and listen to the precious child scream. And scream. But it gets better…I guess the child had to pee. So, the resourceful mother pulls out the vomit bag…and proceeds to have her child pee into the bag. Next to me. On the plane. Oh yeah, it’s a girl…

Finally on the ground once again, I make my way to the transportation counter. I heading to Macau, which isn’t really part of China. So I have to take a bus to the border, Zhuhai (pronounced Jew-high, I know, that’s not what I thought either), then walk across the border, and catch a taxi to a stranger’s house whom I’m couch surfing with (check it out, it’s a website. It’s a great idea). After a few confusing minutes at the counter, I walk away with a ticket in my hand and 80 Yuan lighter. She points me to the waiting area, but I bypass it because I feel my pack is too large to maneuver the small space with all the watching and judging eyes. But just then, a gentleman catches my eye and waves me in. Hesitant, I enter the waiting area and he waves me over to a seat. He spouts some Chinese at me but I retaliate with my “ting-bu-dong” (“I don’t understand,” my catchphrase). Then he asks me if I speak English OR Spanish, I choose option A and am surprised at how well he can speak English. We chat for a few minutes, long enough to find out he’s also going to Macau. We walk out to the buses and find the correct one, I load my stuff into the bay and jump onboard. To my ‘delight’ the gentleman, has asked a woman to move so that we may sit together…great. The harmless questions continue for a good hour. Although about 20 minutes in he ‘offers’ to let me sleep in his hotel room, of course at no charge…I assure him that I have a place to stay, and try to silently stare out the window. FINALLY, his questioning lets up and get to enjoy the green scenery—something I missed being in Chengdu.

We arrive in Zhuhai, instead of showing me to the border, ‘hotel man’ makes me eat with him. Although I insist I’m not hungry—or thirsty, he orders me some ‘milk tea.’ I watch him slurp down his food (a sight that I will never get accustomed to—men eating here), then finally follow him across the border. We had to stand in different lines to get across the border, which was fine with me. I tried waiting for him on the other side, but got fed up wasting time for no reason, other than to say thank you for…not sure what. Stood in 2 other lines, held up one line for lack of proper paperwork…but made it. Jumped in a taxi, showed him the address that my couch surfing host gave to me and I was off…

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