I'm Finally Blogging!

Ok, so I admit that I’ve never used the word “peregrinator” before… but I adore alliteration.  (see??) Even the corny stuff... but I had no idea how stressful choosing a blog title could be… good grief!

Anywhoo…I am indeed currently practicing peregrination.  I’ve been living in China for a month now and before I forget anymore of the daily details, I need to start writing about it.

Let’s go back to… oh, I don’t know… how about choosing a flight. Of course I was searching for the least expensive, but also one with only one stop.  When considering the LONG leg of the flight to Beijing could range from 13-16 hours, the thought of stopping at more than one airport was not appealing.  There is an important factor that plays into this decision for me.  I don’t travel a LOT lot so that I despise airports.  I actually enjoy them.  I take pleasure in observing the sociological theatre that plays out before me.  There's the day trader who talks WAY TOO LOUD on his phone to either let people know how important he is or to falsely tip people off.  Then the upper middle class families that take so many vacations that each of the five family members has their own routine, personalized carry-on bag with rollers, and self-entertainment-travel-paraphernalia to prove it: Mom and Dad are each reading a book on their Kindle with one hand while their deflated neck-pillow, passport AND boarding pass is ready in the other (they don’t kid around with preparation OR comfort).  Johnny, the eldest son, who now goes by John, has his laptop out of parental view “playing games” i.e. looking at the Beijinger.com classifieds, Susie is disgusted with everything everyone does and rolls her eyes at least five times every minute to make that crystal clear.  At least she has the latest iPod Touch to keep her company.  And then there’s little Tommy who hasn’t quite reached the age of being electronically subdued and though she does a great job of hiding it, that really pisses Mom off.  I mean jeez! Isn’t he old enough to sit quietly at the gate like everybody else and play with his hand-held-super-mega-distracting-3D video game?  No Mommy, he isn’t.  He wants to ENGAGE and connect with you!!  OoooOOOOH!!!! So fascinating…!  Then there’s the staff at the various eateries, newsstands, restrooms, and kiosks and I find myself wrapped up in their stories…with questions about them… how they got these jobs and what they went through to get them, and what they have to go through on a daily basis (security-wise) just to get to their job, etc.  So, it isn’t the airport thing that plays into the flight decision as I’m sure I could be quite content there for a three day layover.  It has much more to do with the fact that I still suffer from motion sickness.  It’s something I’ve been plagued with since a child.  Mostly cars, but if there is anything more than mild turbulence in an airplane, my inner ear signals my inner stomach and gives it and the rest of my body the idea that it’s terribly, terribly upset and should respond accordingly.  It really does suck… because I actually ENJOY turbulence!  I think it’s fun!  I’m not afraid of dying in a plane crash… I mean, sometimes you’re alive, sometimes you’re not, right?  I would LOVE to be able to really ENJOY the unpredictable air currents without feeling like I’m going to ralph.  Take-offs and landings are the trouble spots for the easily-queasy and so the fewer times one has to endure it, the better.  Yes, Dramamine is great.  It really does the trick for me… but also makes me so very, very sleepy, which in some cases is just what I want and in others, not so much as the effects seem to last quite awhile.   I considered a non-stop flight, but the prices were crazy.  Sooooo, I chose Air Canada because they seemed nice. :)  AND because I would only have to stop once in Toronto.  That meant only two ups and two downs.

Air Canada is operated by …a different airline (I’ve blocked it out of memory) in Minneapolis and so even though I double and triple-quadruple checked the bag-weight limitations, there was terrible confusion upon arriving at the airport with my 70+lb bags since the 'gentleman' 'helping me' was not an Air Canada person he didn't really know the rules. I won’t go into all of the frustrating details of what happened but will just say that there was a PUBLIC UNPACKING OF MY THINGS at the airport to reduce the weight.  That packing job took many, many hours and some expert help and there I was ripping it all apart to make an allowable 70lb weight.  I still ended up paying an extra $200 to be in the ‘overweight-but-still-allowable’ category.  That was a first for me.  I mean for cripes sakes! I’m packing to live in another country for fifteen f’n months! 140lbs of stuff is not that much! I didn’t get to bring my yoga mat, some of my clothes and shoes and honestly, I forget what else.  So therein lies the lesson, right? 

Other than an annoying introduction to the smacking and slurping sounds of a young Chinese eater sitting next to me, all was smooth on the flight.  They fed me lots of carbs and I had my very own personal entertainment center.  There was a nice mix of being occupied with food, Modern Family episodes, short naps, silently judging others for their lack of shared-space etiquette, and bad movies that made me take more naps.  

It wasn’t exactly a relaxing flight though.  I had a lot on my mind.  The anxiety of all that was ahead of me balanced out the sleepy side-effects of the Dramamine so that except for the little naps, I didn’t sleep much.  Walking through customs was no problem… other than some directional signage that was unclear I made it to the baggage claim unscathed. My bags however, not so lucky.  ONE of my TWO bags made it to Beijing. Another first for me.  And no better time to have to deal with lost luggage than in a country where I don’t speak the language.  HA!  I'd better get used to it, right?  My mind raced to remember what I had packed in which bag, was there anything crucial in the one missing?... and I couldn't really remember after the unpacking/repacking fiasco at departure.  I filled out the forms with the help of an Air China associate and was told they would call when they find it.

So, then I'm on my way to meet Coco, the representative from the school.  She had sent me a photo of herself a few days prior but I was also told by the manager of the school that she would have a sign with my name on it.  No sign, no name.  Was this evidence of things to come?  Yes.  Luckily... I did recognize her in the throng at the arrival gate.  She didn't notice me, the only white person among hundreds, walking by her.  To be fair though, she was preoccupied with talking on her cell phone at the time and had been waiting for about two hours by now.  I walked up behind her... losing a little bit of confidence that it was her... and tentatively said "Coco." It was her.  Relief.  She welcomed me, gave me a hug and just like that I was in China, riding in the backseat of Coco’s husband’s car in nutty traffic!