Getting There

One of my former classmates has an acronym that he uses to describe about China’s inexplicable inconveniences in the country of 1.3 billion people: GYSTC. This stands for Get Your Shit Together China. I generally counter this with a message of visitor responsibility and, “Ah, but cultural differences and blah, blah, blah.” Which, I continue to argue, is the point of travel—especially the blah, blah, blah because you never know what you will discover—and opens my mind to, as my wise and intelligent grandmother advocated, “understanding how other people live.” However, I must, in good humor and with the knowledge that getting someplace is often the hardest part, share my arrival story with anyone willing to read about the flight, landing, journey to my apartment, and the apartment itself.

The flight from Omaha to Seattle was relatively uneventful. My adventures began on my flight from Seattle to Beijing. Instead of choosing to fly the awesome, convenient, and delightful Korean Air, I purchased the budget option and flew with Hainan Airlines. Reviews were positive online, and I felt confident in my purchase supporting my future host country by using a Chinese airline. As it turns out, you can’t believe everything you read online, and my in-flight experience was, well, a low-budget experience.

I am a big person, and I often pay to upgrade my seats for more leg room or bigger seats. Unfortunately for me, the extra legroom space, for which I paid $88.75 each way, is where mothers with small children can use a complimentary upgrade and have access to a bassinet that screws into the wall of the airplane, thus removing all that extra leg room. Despite my irritation about losing my space, I found that the mother seated next to me was delightful. Her baby was adorable. Her twin three-year olds, mother, and mother-in-law were lovable, sweet, and practically in my lap every five minutes after the first two hours of the flight. Her husband apologized to me multiple times but was highly incapable of managing the movements of any of his family members despite repeated attempts. At just over 10 hours, it was a mercifully short international flight, and the flight attendants’ uniforms were beautiful.

On landing, we parked on the tarmac in an area that appeared to be marked for cargo planes and private jets. We were shuttled down a precariously slanted cattle shoot from the plane onto the tarmac and herded toward a waiting bus. Approximately 15 people were allowed onto the waiting bus before guards instructed the rest of us to wait. Another bus arrived shortly after and quickly exceeded its posted passenger limit of 127 people. Silently, I told myself that it’s great practice for the terrifyingly crowded, but always interesting, Beijing subway.

The bus headed toward a passenger terminal but our progress was quickly halted by a jet firing its engines directly into our path. After nearly 20 minutes of sitting just out of reach while being blasted by jet fuel, the bus finally continued its journey toward the terminal. I departed the bus and moved up multiple escalators while being thankful for signage in English. (I really must work on my Mandarin.) After a few frustrating minutes with the unattended fingerprinting terminals, I successfully submitted by passport information and fingerprints to the government and moved to immigration to present my passport, give my fingerprints, and be grunted at by an officer of the same government. That complete, I waited for my luggage and talked with a software engineer traveling from Seattle to Beijing to visit her parents and her childhood home. She was excited to be home and very kind. This was the bright spot I needed to make it through immigration, currency exchange, and connecting with the Deng Wei, a student at the Communication University of China, who generously gave her time to meet me at the airport and guide me to the campus and my apartment.  

After locating Deng Wei, she assessed my two suitcases and backpack and proclaimed, “I think we should take a taxi. The subway isn’t a good idea with this much luggage.” I heartily agreed, and she ordered the Chinese version of an Uber on her phone. The driver was already outside and gave us a warm greeting and rolled one of my suitcases to his car. His good mood only lasted until we were repeatedly stuck in Beijing’s notorious traffic. The ride from the airport took nearly an hour, and I was carsick by the time we arrived at a drop off spot near my apartment building. The carsickness was my fault. I should have asked to sit in the front seat, but I had forgotten what driving in Beijing is like. I wouldn’t want to do it myself, so I was happy for the grumpy driver who raised his price to $106 RMB, about $16 USD, after we departed the vehicle. I paid it and thanked him for the ride.

Deng Wei patiently ushered me through checking into the front desk of the on-campus apartment building and accompanied me to my apartment. She showed me how the lights worked and checked on my wifi connection. No wifi. We returned to the front desk and were told, “There is no free wifi. You have to arrange for it and pay for it on your own.” In the U.S., I would simply use my data plan until this could be arranged. In China, my cell phone is as good as a brick without wifi or a Chinese SIM card. Possessing neither and with exhaustion creeping in, I declined Deng Wei’s kind offer to take me to the supermarket and began unpacking.

After a full day of travel and having last slept nearly 22 hours prior, I wanted nothing more than a shower, a vigorous teeth brushing, and sleep. After arranging my things in the apartment, I turned on the water in the bathroom sink. It ran for a moment and then began spitting foul-smelling brown sludge from the faucet. The stuff was splashing all over, so I shut it off and thought, not very clearly, about what to do next. I tried the faucet in the kitchen. It was working. So, I returned to the bathroom and turned on the shower. The results were the same as the bathroom sink. Again, I’m not thinking too clearly by this time. In my mind, my choices were to get dressed and return to the front desk to communicate my problem via charades or just go to bed. I paced around for a moment, produced my first tears of the trip, and decided to let the faucet and shower run for a few minutes. Aha! Problem solved! The water gradually gained the appearance that it was usable, and I cleaned the dark brown sludge off of the surfaces in the bathroom.

With the shower working, I just needed a towel to complete the evening’s festivities. Alas, in my packing and repacking, I left my towel at home. After locating a clean t-shirt to use as a towel, I was able to wash off the travel dirt and felt human. Being human again, I realized that I was really, really thirsty. I considered the safety of the water and finally boiled enough to brush my teeth and drank just enough so that my mouth wasn’t crackling dry. While I waited for the water to boil, I inspected the outlets and remembered that I also forgot to buy plug adapters. All of these things are easily purchased in the next few days. Adapters, towels, and bottled water are now the top items on my to buy list.

Finally, after showering, brushing my teeth, eating a granola bar, and making one last desperate attempt at connecting to wifi, I collapsed onto the hardest mattress in existence and slept soundly for six hours. It is after than rejuvenating sleep that I am writing this arrival story about air travel, ground transportation, and checking in to an unfamiliar place.

Although my getting here narrative is full of twists and turns, laughter and tears, I am happy to be in Beijing. Every day until May 20 will be a grand adventure. I will learn much about myself and the people around me. Hooray for the spirit of adventure!

Epilogue:

Notes from after my second nap. I successfully made espresso on the stovetop. There is a beautiful bird nesting outside my bedroom window. The apartment building is blissfully quiet. The bathroom includes a western-style toilet IN the shower. It’s the ultimate bidet! I am still happy and grateful to be here.