“Take lots of pictures,” Yu Cui told me over lunch. “I am very
interested in this country.”
“Go to Disney!” Vivi said. “I love Disney!”
“It’s funny,” I said. “I’m really excited to go, but I almost feel
more nervous leaving China to go to Japan than I did leaving the US to come
here.”
“Nervous?” Yu Cui asked. “Why are you nervous?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I guess I’m starting to feel ‘Chinese’
and I feel like I have to take a side in the conflicts between China and Japan.”
“You don’t,” she said. “The conflicts are between the governments. The
people are not like that. We like Japan. We will visit there someday.”
It’s funny because this makes Yu Cui one of several people to tell me
something along the lines of “the government is separate from the people.” Coming
from a country of government for the people, by the people, etc. and etc., it’s
kind of hard to detatch my thought process like that. But at the same time,
there is some truth to it. I feel like the more I travel, the more I realize
that most world conflicts are actually conflicts between people (the countries
and armies get dragged along with it.) I mean most of the conflict in the
Middle East goes back to a Centuries’ old blood feud. European leader’s invaded
places they thought were pretty (ie: Hitler into Prague.) Even tensions between
the US and Russia seem more rooted on principles than actual threats of danger.
“What time is your flight?” Vivi asked.
“I think it is at 2:00pm,” I said.
“You should be there two hours before,” Vivi said. “And you should
leave, maybe, two hours before that.”
“Really?” I said. “Can’t I just get on the subway out here and take it
all the way to the airport.”
“Yes,” Vivi said. “But to be safe, leave two hours.”
“When I go to the airport,” Yang Ren Jun said, “It always takes me one
and a half hours to get there.”
Seriously??
I checked last night before going to bed and my flight is actually at
3:30pm, so I needed to leave my apartment by 11:30. I set my alarm for 9:00 the
next morning. When I got up, I packed while texting with my Mom and doing a bit
of budgeting for my upcoming trips. I’ve now bought tickets to Hong Kong &
Macau, Beijing, and I’m looking into going to Xi’an (the original capital 4,000
years ago) but still maneuvering the details of that. I left my room at
11:00am, and sure enough, it took 2 hours to get there. I bought a pastry to
eat on the Subway. Basically, I took Line 2 out 11 stops. The line continues from
there, but you have change trains and go another 9 stops to the airport.
While I was on the Subway, I started fiddling with my Canada key chain
that I bought in Vancouver. It was odd not being home on the 4th of
July (even more odd to see the number of Chinese people that were wearing
American flag patterns on their clothes today.) Traveling Europe opened my eyes
to some things. Hearing about American history from a
non-public-school-in-the-US perspective made me realize that America might not
have as much to brag about as we’d like to think. At the same time, being away
from home makes me realize, even if the system isn’t perfect, it is a pretty
good system. America has certainly perpetuated a lot of evil in the world…but
it has also done a pretty fair share of good too. And nothing’s perfect, right?
I mean the whole premise of America…a democratic-republic, with free press,
free speech, free elections, and freedom of religion…is a pretty lofty goal for
our human brains to handle. But 238 year later, we’re still here. Somewhere
along the way, we must have done something right.
I smiled and made a decision. Threading the zipper back through the
clip, I took off my Canadian camouflage. I can’t necessarily be proud of
everything our government does, but as my Chinese friends have taught me, “government
does not always represent the people.” I was blessed to be born in America, and
I’m proud to be an American. It’s home!
Being back at the airport was an odd sensation. It felt like a total
time warp. Ever since I got to China, leaving the US feels like a lifetime ago.
But being back here, it feels like I just got to China. Everything looks,
smells, and sounds exactly the way I remember it when I got off the plane. It’s
just so odd that it can feel like it was yesterday, and also feel like some
sort of blurred memory, all at the same time.
I walked across the pedestrian bridge to Terminal 2 for International
Arrivals and Departures. Riding up the escalator, I passed a group of British
School kids all wearing matching t-shirts and being herded by several adults. I’m
guessing it was a high school trip, but my observation was that their British
accents were just as loud and obnoxious as people accuse American accents of
being.
The departures area of the airport looked so much like Prague Ruzyne
Airport, and practically identical to Barcelona. I mean the layout looked like
most European airports, with various islands of counters for airlines and a
large display board to check which island you could check in at for your
flight. I was a bit nervous because when I went online a few nights ago, the
airline (Juneyao) couldn’t find either this flight or my reservation in their
system. I booked it through a third party travel website, and I’m hearing more
and more horror stories about using these services. But as I looked up at the
board, I saw my flight number: HO1337.
Cool! I
thought. That’s a step in the right
direction.
Check in was at island “J.” As I walked from “A” passed the
other airlines, I smiled. This is what Independence
feels like, I thought, having the
freedom to take risks and make amazing memories every day.
As I got further down the alphabet, I saw a long line forming at one
of the islands. Of course, it was at island J. Only three counters were open
for check in and there were clearly more than three Juneyao flights leaving in
the near future. I scanned around and saw a few Juneyao kiosks. Deciding to use
one of those, I went over to check in.
I put my passport up to the scanner to read my identification
information. Suddenly the machine made an odd mechanical sound and sucked my
passport into the reader.
Well that’s
not good I thought, especially since the screen didn’t change. In fact the
machine didn’t seem to be doing anything other than eating my passport.
“Excuse me,” a lady in a purple uniform said. “Where are you going?” She
was holding a tablet and had a Juneyao nametag on her jacket.
“Osaka,” I said.
“The kiosk is for domestic flights only,” she said. “Please wait in
the line.”
“Oh okay.” I said. “How can I get my passport back?”
She looked at the machine, but she also looked a bit confused. She tapped
some things on the screen and it responded, but it didn’t seem to have a return
feature. Eventually, she gave up and pressed a button on the back of the
machine. It turned off and she opened the back panel to reach in and pull my
passport out. It wasn’t damaged at all and appears to have been just sitting in
there.
The line took about 25 minutes to get through, which really wasn’t so
bad. Lines aren’t entirely a thing in China. The idea is there—people stand
behind other people to wait—but the structure isn’t quite as formal. For
example, if you would like to be in front of the person ahead of you, it is
quite permissible to insert yourself into that spot in line. This doesn’t always
set so well with the American in me. I can put up with it in the Subway or even
the grocery store, but not when I’m checking in for my next adventure. I did a
fair share of grunting and smirking at people which allowed me to keep my spot
in line.
I was still worried that the airlines website didn’t recognize my
confirmation number. When I got to the counter, I handed over my passport. As
the kid, who looked to be about 15, typed my passport number into the system, a
boarding pass shot out of the ticketing machine.
Success! I thought!
He handed me the pass saying, “This is your gate. This is your seat. You board
at 3:20. Have nice flight.”
I thanked him and followed the signs to security.
At first I was surprised by how intense the security screening process
was. The first stop was a health declaration, with signs saying they reserved
the right to examine you if you had any symptoms. No one appeared to be
stopping at this counter so I too just passed it by. The next stop was the exit
interview, which required you present your “Departure Card.” I don’t remember if
I wrote about this when I arrived or not, but when I cleared customs coming
into China, the customs form had a little perforated, detachable card with an
ID number that matched my original form for arrival. I’d kept my card in my
passport, which I was thankful for giving the amount of grief the customs
agents were giving to an elderly American couple that had lost the wife’s card.
Just as when I arrived, I waited behind a gold line until I was called
forward. I handed over my passport,
departure card, and boarding pass. The girl examined each and plugged a bunch of
numbers into her computer. She checked both my passport, my visa, my entry
stamp, and my departure card several times over (I’m assuming she was comparing
them to the data they had in the computer about me….I wonder if my trip to
Suzhou and Huangshan had also showed up?) After about a minute, she pulled out
a red stamp and stamped my passport, boarding pass, and departure card. Putting
my card in her inbox, she handed my passport and boarding pass back to me.
I looked at the stamp. It read “Departure 4-7-2014.” Phase one was
complete; my first sixty day stay in China was officially and legally over…now I
just needed to hope that I could get back in with the same level of ease that I
did the first time.
Next came the actual security portion, which looked a lot more
recognizable to US security—except with way better customer service. Everyone
went through one at a time and was escorted by an officer. This person helped
you arrange all of your things in the bin (which included cellphones, wallets,
watches, laptops, and belts, but not liquids or shoes) and made sure all of
your stuff was secure while you passed through the scanner. It sounds like a slow
system, but it was actually pretty fast and way less stressful than TSA. And I think
this is the first international airport where I wasn’t pulled out of line and
patted down (it seriously happened every time I flew in Europe.)
I perused the duty free shops on my way to my gate. It was all really
expensive—or at least more than I was willing to pay. I did find a kiosk of
Milka chocolate though and I was tempted to stock up. Chinese chocolate really hasn’t
been cutting it. Generally speaking, if I want good chocolate, I have to buy
either a Dove bar or a Snickers, both of which are so sub-standard to anything
I ate in Europe. Although this past week Nate brought home some Japanese
chocolate that was pretty awesome. It is crazy expensive, but it compares very favorably
with Swiss chocolate.
In the end, I was able to resist the purple wrappers and did not buy
any Milka. I did check out a book store that had some interesting books on
China in English. I considered buy one, but I already had a book for the plane
and they were also a bit pricy.
When I got to the gate I started journaling. I am struck by the fact
that Japan is country #15…especially because that means I’ve visit 14 countries
in 18 months. I always knew I wanted to travel, but I never dreamed I would do
so much, or that it would become such an obsession for me. But I have to say,
as far as hobbies go, I think it is one of the best! As one last July 4th
observation, I do feel blessed to have been born in a country where we have the
freedom to travel as we please!
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