Side bar already: *If there are any typos, see my sister for more details. This blog post comes to you by way of my gracious and helpful sister. The Great Firewall of China is preventing Z and me from accessing our blogs. We thought we solved that problem even before we got here, but our method of connecting via VPN does not seem to be working. Until further notice, my words to you, emailed to and then typed up by my new publisher.
I’m in that weird in between state of sleep and awake and jetlag and what day is it? You know, 13 hours and 40 minutes on a plane in luxurious economy seats really feels more like 12 hours. Easy-peasy-pie. Though as may happen when you cram more than 250 passengers on one flight, disagreements are bound to arise. I almost got into a genuine fight (cue chanting Fight! Fight! Fight!). In great tri-state area fashion, one of the passengers was less than pleasant to me (read: a**hole) as I was trying to make my way back to my seat from the bathroom. He (he being a grown, adult, man) told me where I was walking was not an aisle, and he and his plane buddy had their feet stretched out to block my passage between their first-row seats and the wall in front of them. I mustered up my great NJ pride and might and told him to move out of my way. Please. Pa-lease. Other than that, the plane ride was fine. At hour nine I was going a little stir crazy, but it wasn’t anything another two more Dramamine couldn’t fix.
After we de-boarded the plane and got our luggage without any hitches, we exchanged money and waited in the cue for a taxi to our hotel. Turns out the Jersey girl in me also had a little to do with packing two large oversized suitcases for a year’s worth of living far, far away. No, my bags aren’t full of hairspray; I’m not that Jersey. But with Z’s two bags, our backpacks (thank you CES for mine!) and other carry on bags, one taxi wasn’t going to cut it. Ahh, our first Chinese altercation! Z was cool as could be. From what I gathered, taxi driver number one was instructing (read: yelling at) Z that the bags would not fit as Z calmly loaded our belongings one after the other into the trunk and backseat of the vehicle. After the sixth bag, and more words exchanged, it was clear that mister taxi driving was not willing to take both of us, and all of our precious cargo to our next destination. In comes taxi driver number two. Bags are moved around, Z exchanges more words and what I think are directions, I jump in one cab and Z in the other. Wait, what? How’d I get into this cab by myself? This is freshmen year of college all over again, when my roommate and I got separated into two cars going to our first party off campus. OK, this time isn’t nearly as dramatic. I didn’t panic; I trusted my husband, the taxi driver and my instinct. Forty-five swerving and stop-and-go minutes later we arrived at our hotel for the week.
So now we are in Beijing, in the Chaoyang District. I have already had my first authentic Chinese meal of assorted wild mushrooms in sesame dressing, and noodles with sauteed eggplant. Don’t be fooled my vegetarian friends, the noodle dish was cooked with cubes of pork fat. I learned this the hard way when I bit into what I thought was a piece of eggplant. While my father would have eaten every last cube of fatty goodness, I chose to delicately eat around it for the rest of the meal. This is, I imagine, a tame introduction to more mealtime surprises. Not complaining, just observing and learning to take a closer watch of what moves from hand to mouth next time.
The restaurant was a small, well-patronized establishment. There were several wait staff, and one in particular who caught my eye. There she was, wearing a t-shirt that proclaimed in large, fluorescent print: “Do not give a SPEECH; put on a show.” Well alright then! (By the way, I am taking every last little detail I see as a sign.) Here is this woman, telling me in so many ways, to get out there! Show ‘em what I got. Don’t just sit around each day. Don’t just tell people what I am about, show them, dazzle them, entertain them. OK. OK. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m a long way from actually being able to hold a basic conversation in Mandarin. But I accept the challenge. I’m going to take it one day at a time, but I’ll get out there, take it all in, really be here and absorb everything. I may just discover that I also have something interesting to share with others I meet along the way. Now if only I could find a custom t-shirt shop for my future slogan -- pitches welcome.
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