Saturday, August 20, 2011

China.

I have been in China for about 11 days now and have had COUNTLESS adventures that have deserved to go up on this blog. Unfortunately, the Chinese authorities don't find it prudent to allow computers in this fine country to be able to connect to blogspot. Ahem.
New Xining with its crane skyline

Friday, I woke up in Xining, China - a city fairly in the center of China and like every other city in this country, gigantic with people everywhere you look. And a lot of those people, I discovered, were trying to move further east just like me. There were no train or planes out of Xining until August 23. I need to be in South Korea for a swing dance event by August 26, so waiting around was not an option. My host had found a way out though.

My host in Xining over dinner

I woke up at about 6:30am after a bad night's sleep. I was anxious about the day to come. My plan that day included a 10 hour bus ride east to Xian, where I would catch a plane two hours after my intended arrival to Beijing. If there were any delays at all in my bus ride, the flight would be compromised and I'd be stuck. 

The first 7 hours of the bus ride as smooth as they could. We were cruising down the four lane, divided highway at 70 miles an hour with hardly any other traffic on the road. Even though transit schedules in China are merely suggestions, I was feeling good about my gamble to get to Xian in time.

Then disaster hit in the form of a detour. For some reason that was not clear to me, the highway was closed and we had to spend about 40 minutes driving very aggresively through city traffic before we could get back on the highway. Later, a long line at a toll station prompted our driver to take a voluntary detour along the old road that hugged cliff faces lining the river in a valley below. Our driver wagered that the time lost in bypassing tunnels and slow going along the windy road was less than the time lost waiting in a toll station line.  Obviously, there was not time for a scientific enquiry into the benefits of the driver's decision.

The result though, after these two detours, was that we were 180 miles outside of Xian 4 hours before my flight was scheduled to depart the airport. My nerves tightened. My head started working all kinds of calculations about how much longer it would take and how many people I'd have to push aside in the security check line.

Every time our driver hit the breaks for a tight turn or for a slow moving truck in front of us, I cursed the obstacle and, for once, cheered when our driver recklessly swerved in and out of lanes, ruthlessly hurrying our arrival. When our driver stopped for a pee break about 60 miles out of Xian, about an hour before my departure time, I was livid. I actually got off the bus to look for a taxi to take me the final stretch. But thankfully, someone pulled me back onto the bus. The brief increase in attention the stunt gave me provided an opportunity to explain my situation. In the best chinese I could muster and by passing around my ticket, I was able to communicate how dire my situation was. One woman spoke a little english and told me after some deliberation amongst themselves, that I should follow the guy sitting next to me. Ok.

It was 9pm, 30 minutes before departure and we were just on the outskirts of Xian. My brain had changed gears, from calculating my arrival time to trying to figure out where to spend the night and how to get a flight out of Xian as soon as possible in order to salvage my weekend of swing dance in South Korea. All of a sudden, the bus pulled over on the side of the highway and my neighbor started pushing me out of the bus. The bus had stopped just short of a highway exit and my neighbor started walking up the ramp, encouraging me to follow. The bus had left. My brain switched gears yet again to figuring out how to avoid getting robbed blind and left in the ditch. But my neighbor was honest. He led me to a road and flagged down a taxi. It was 9:10 and I was on my way to the airport, 10 miles away. I recognized the futility of my mission, but figured I had nothing to lose.

We drove, and drove, and drove. Several times I was convinced that I saw the lights of a runway, but was let down. Cities in China are just too big. You'd be amazed.

But finally, I started seeing signs for the airport and suddenly we were there at Terminal 2. I fled the cab at 930, not having seen any planes take off during our approach the airport: A tiny ember of hope emerged from the ashes.

As I ran to the ticket counter, I glanced at the departure board and saw that my flight had been delayed to 9:50 and that they were boarding! My heart skipped several beats. I handed the ticket and passport to the woman at the ticket counter, expecting her to hand it back to me and apologize for not letting me board so late, but instead, she looked up at me and told me, "I'm sorry, but this flight has been delayed. You'll have to wait an hour or so in the terminal."

This was the best "bad news" I think I've ever heard. I passed through the security check elated and sauntered up to Gate number 8, full of agitated passengers and flustered airline agents. I had made it. The airline even gave me a free meal to compensate for the delay. HA!

I ended up in Beijing at 3 am, which was not ideal, but at least I made it. It was intense day and luck was definitely on my side. But I still have a train trip and two ferry rides before I get to Jeju, South Korea, so it's not over yet.

Relieved,
Ben

















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