Please prepare to get off

It's 9:10pm over here, as far as I can tell, and I'm going to bed soon without a shower. Yes, that does suck a whole lot, but there's nothing for it. I had a sense that this might happen, this being that my hosts are on their own vacation and turned off the heat for their absence-- it's happened before. This was back when I had to be over here to work on my essays every day, so I just wore lots of clothes during the day and froze my butt off during the night. This time, however, they turned the hot water off as well, which leaves me cold *and* dirty. Ah well. Technically there is another place that I live here, and there's plenty of hot water and heat there... but... I might as well admit that I don't like it there. I mean, the bed's comfy, I share the room with a nice girl but there's enough space, BUT the bathroom sketches me out. It's too bad that I have bathroom issues, but I have serious bathroom issues. Bathrooms are game-changers for me in just about every situation I can imagine. So the Baotou bathroom was grimy, but it was spacious. This too is grimy, but that's what sandals are for. What honestly kills it for me here is that to flush, the toilet fills with water almost to the rim before emptying. I'll leave the implications to subtlety. Oh it just freaks me out so much that I like to avoid it whenever possible. Ah well. Since I suspect that the key to the heating controls is sailing somewhere in the vicinity of South America right now, I'll clearly have to just let this one go.

Anyways, that's not anything like what I was planning to talk about, which was my return trip. Wednesday night, Sam stayed the night at my place and the two of us hightailed it to the airport at 5:30 Thursday morning. Roads were clear, weather was clear. Continental baggage policy is a little confusing, so I arrived thinking that I had 70 lbs clearance for my just-over-50 lbs suitcase. After being redirected to Delta to check in for my connection flight, I was informed that 50 was the limit. In the past, United and Continental agents have weighed a slightly overweight bag and just thrown the stickers on it, no questions asked. This gentleman suggested that I remove 4 lbs of stuff from my suitcase and carry it on my person. So... In addition to the load of books and laptop gear already in my carry-ons, were now even more books and also a pair of flip-flops. I don't think this backpack was meant to distribute that kind of weight that well (not to mention the satchel on my shoulder), so I actually felt, throughout this whole thing, that I was carrying something heavy. My back does sort of ache now, but that's also probably the whole awkward sleeping positions thing too.

We were a tiny bit late boarding the aircraft in CVG because of the security check, but since it was a small jet with few passengers, it didn't take long once they opened the door. They gave the security spiel and we started taxiing, when suddenly the plane stopped... and sat there. The captain came on to tell us that there was a maintenance issue, and we needed to return to the gate in order to fix it. They were expecting it to take about 10-15 minutes, then 10-15 for de-icing, and then we'd be on our way. I was a bit nervous at this point because I'd booked the flight with a decent window of layover time, but it was by no means very long. 10-15 minutes would have been ok though. Well, two hours later, we finally started taxiing out again. During those two hours, we lost several businessmen who needed to be in important meetings (at least one of them was going off to call in), we lost our first officer who timed out (whatever that means), we lost one of our attendants I think for the same reason, and our captain left the plane to bring coffee from Peet's for everyone. When the coffee came around, I declined, and this was because I was in the middle of what might have been a slight anxiety attack. It was being fueled by my recent paranoia for flight, and given that there was this mysterious "maintenance issue" that was "taking them longer than they thought to fix," there was a bit to keep me going there. Also was the fact that as time went on, the window for me to make my connection was narrowing, and I didn't know what sorts of randomness finding my gate would entail. Also, I just wasn't comfortable. I hadn't had much sleep the night before, and my morning was just very emotional-- leaving the house, the comforts of home. There was also never a moment that I just stepped back and felt, "Yes, I'm packed," or "Yes, I feel ready to go." So sitting in that cold airplane, staring at a collection of bleached dead insects trapped IN the panes of the window, wondering how the hell they got in there and whether or not the fact that they did was in any way a safety hazard, I just started losing my cool. There was a moment that I knew that I would never make my flight, and I started asking the attendant what I should do. One thought was that I could get right off the plane and deal with the agents at CVG and possibly just go home and delay until my folks got back... but she never really had a response for me. Just always "hmmm, I'll let them know" or something equally ineffectual. I asked her again at the hour and 45 minute mark, but was interrupted when they announced the completion of the maintenance work. She was just like "Well, enough said!" I'd been having this internal battle about whether or not to get off the plane, since I knew the other option was to end up having to deal with a missed flight in Newark, where I do not live. But then I figured, what the hell. Better to just see what happens this way. Well, maybe not. But whatever.

In Newark, I went straight to a gate agent to explain the deal, and a man came up behind me saying he had the exact same issue. One solution would have been to cancel and try racing over to JFK to catch a flight that we probably would never have made either. I... opted no for that one. The lady sent us over to Delta ticketing, which, in Newark, is... weird. Anyways, after standing there a long time while they tried to work things out with Continental, I walked off with a ticket for the next day, a hotel voucher, and two meal vouchers, and went looking for my bag. Lucky for me, a guy was JUST pulling it off the carousel as we got there. Unlucky for the other guy, his bag was nowhere to be seen. Also, Continental was giving some bullshit about his ticket. We ended up separating there, and I found out later that he was at the airport for a couple more hours. I got some lunch, which then became my dinner, and then went looking for the hotel shuttle.

The Wyndham Hotel by the airport is actually not too shabby. I was very impressed by their bath products, which were Bath & Body Works True Blue Spa. [Oh MAN I'm getting cold. Still can't see my breath though, which is all right]. Also, most of the people working there were really nice. I got in, got situated, and passed out until nightfall. It did me a lot of good, I think. At some point after I woke up, I realized I was sitting in a king-sized bed. I turned on all the lights, but still things seemed dim. I went for a spin, to get some ice and buy something to drink. I got some guava juice, ate the rest of my corned beef sandwich, and watched Family Guy and CNN. After a bit more time, I went to use my dinner voucher in the hotel restaurant. It was only $7, but after my sandwich, I really just wanted some soup. The split pea was pretty good. I then decided to follow it up with fruit, but the fruit salad didn't sound that great. The other option was melon, which, at this time of year, is cantaloupe. I ordered cantaloupe. I was presented with half of a cantaloupe and a steak knife. This was beyond my wildest dreams. I got it wrapped up and took it back upstairs. Back in the room, I watched a little bit of American Gladiators, and listened to my ipod through the alarm clock, read, wrote, figured out why the internet hadn't been working for me. I showered too, which was nice. Then... more sleep.

Everything went smoothly the next day, if you don't count me carrying way too much stuff everywhere. The passengers were sparse, so there was an empty seat between me and my rowmate. It was actually cramped though because the seat in front of me reclined to the point that if I sat up straight, it would have been on my forehead. So eating was ridiculous. The guy I was sitting with was nice, and before the flight ended he offered me a couple Reese's cups for the road. I finally got to see The Secret Life of Bees, which played on one of my SFO flights, but which I didn't watch then because you have to pay for Delta's headsets. It was good. I teared up.

So, obviously the multi-entry visa worked just as described. I'm presumably all set for the next 120 days. I'm going to be here less than 120 days. That somehow just made me feel a bit better. At baggage claim, I moved most of the books back into my suitcase. Then...

I wasn't 100% sure how I was going to get back to TEDA from the airport. I'd been told in the past that there was a bus, and I was hoping to just... ask a bunch of people and figure out where I could find it. FYI, girls working information at PEK don't really speak English. But one of them directed me out exit 11 to where the shuttle buses were waiting. I went to the end of the line to find the Tianjin stop and ask if there was anything anywhere going to where I was going. I am stating for the record right now, for anyone who googles "Beijing airport bus to TEDA," there is, as of February 7th, 2009, NO BUS from the airport to TEDA, or even Tanggu station. I asked what they suggested, but even if I took the bus to Tianjin, taxiing around there to get either to the light rail or just back to TEDA would have been way more than I was willing to spend. Also, I don't know Tianjin at all. Also, no way was I dragging my suitcase around any place I didn't know.

So... I turned around, and headed down to the Express Train to the subway. I figured I'd be able to make a train to Tanggu and maybe still avoid a population crush. For reference, our plane landed at about 2:45pm.

Took the express to Sanyuanqiao, and decided to just get off there. It seemed like it might be easier to navigate than Dongzhimen (where I got lost and annoyed last time) and would drop off higher up on the 5, and I wanted to get on that as soon as possible. This was not a bad idea, as it turned out, except some random girl cut in front of me to buy a subway ticket (and I HATE that shit) and I had to put all my bags through the x-ray (but one of the attendants helped me) and then one of the girls at the x-ray machine really wanted to see if she could lift my suitcase but never actually asked me-- she just took it from the guy and started carrying it away and I had to walk after her with this look on my face like "do you realize that I'm here to catch a train" and even when I finally got it back from her she didn't say a single word to me, just stared off into space with this vacuous smile on her face. Also, no down escalator in that station.

It was a bit weird on the train, this guy who'd been standing near me on the platform decided to strike up a conversation. He asked if I was coming from abroad, where I'd been, did I spend new years there, was it fun... I was like... this is not information that I feel comfortable divulging on the subway when I have so much stuff to deal with. Then came the typical "are you from the south" and I ended up just telling him that I was from the US. He complimented my Chinese, at which point I noticed a girl laughing. I have no idea either way, but I just had the feeling that she was laughing at this conversation. THEN he went and said that he felt comfortable talking to me? Like... you know when you first see someone...something something something, did I know what he meant? I said I didn't know. Cuz I only caught part of it anyways, and it just didn't seem like something I wanted to agree to. He said that I had a nice smile. And something about teeth showing. I said thanks and just... tried to avoid making eye contact again. I was really not feeling whatever this was that was going on. Anyways, as I was about to exit he started going through his wallet for his card, but, too bad, he didn't have any on him. Oh well! I rushed to transfer. No down escalator here either, but some guy behind me took pity and helped me get my bag down the steps. The train here was packed. It was on this train that I realized that I hate the general pushiness of the population here. Like... the people I'm ok with (for the most part... there have been a few so-called "customer service" agents I've wanted to slap), people you talk to are generally nice. But lordy the population, the pushing, shoving, cutting, yelling, and general disregard for others that you get at ticket counters, on subways, at crosswalks, pisses me off to no end. This is what I typically find myself complaining about at the end of a long day.

The whole subway trip from Sanyuanqiao took maybe an hour? I was so relieved to finally make it to Liujiayao, but was slightly apprehensive because I didn't know which exit to take. Last time I tried this, I took a couple different exits, and by the time I figured out which was the right one, I was completely muddled. The problem this time was that I was only giving myself one shot to get the right one. If it was wrong, the trouble it would take to either get my bags back downstairs, or across the street, or, heaven forbid, up the stairs to a skybridge, across the street, and down back to street level, would be more than it was worth to just take a taxi from any of the incorrect exits. But... man, I'm cheap here. I went with the Northwest exit. For future reference, THIS IS THE CORRECT EXIT. I chose it because it ran completely opposite to what my guess would have been. I figured I must have tried Southeast last time, and it turns out that was true. Turns out there's a part of the ascent from the station that involves stairs. There's a wheelchair lift, evidently, but I'm guessing I would have had a lot of trouble getting that operating anyways. But a girl coming up behind me offered to help. Again, awesome. Especially awesome because by this point my body had really almost had it.

When I got above-ground, my first thought was "CRAP." Then I realized that I was in the right place. Confirmed when I saw the big Suning building. Started making my way to the bus stop, and the 652 bus came right as I approached. I still had to bang on the door to get them to let me on, and at that point dragged my suitcase on like it was a piece of carrion, first heaving it onto its side, dragging it a few inches, then pulling it upright. Paid for 2 tickets-- one for me and one for my suitcase. It occurred to me that I would have thrown a tantrum if, say, the AC Transit driver demanded a second fare for a suitcase. But this did not faze me when it happened multiple times on my way through Beijing in December, and I didn't give a whit this time either.

The 652 made quick time to Beijing Nan, I got my ass up the escalator, through security, and over to an automatic ticketing machine. Hell if I was going to deal with an actual ticketing agent. It was 5:10. The only ticket available to me (or so it seemed... the machine wasn't very sensitive and I was really unfocused so I couldn't really tell what was going on) was 18:50, which I originally interpreted, incorrectly of course, as 5:50. I figured it out though. I sat around for an hour and a half, reading, kind of comfy, but slowly needing to pee more and more.

I discovered, upon boarding the train, that there was actually enough room for my suitcase in the seat with me. There was no legroom, but at least I could keep it within my sight and not have to drag it any further. So I grabbed the window seat, caused some confusion for the other two fellas in my row when they finally showed up, but no biggie. Stacked my things on top of one another. My ipod has now chosen not to play yet another one of my favorite songs. SIGH. After receiving my free bottle of Tibetan spring water, I just collapsed over my things-- basically wrapped my body around them-- and fell asleep for the ride. I woke up for a few things: the arrival in Tianjin, and several moments when the guy in front of me tried to recline his seat. Usually, whatever, but with my suitcase, he couldn't really get his seat back as far as... he would have liked it? I couldn't tell if he was just a flopper or if he was actively trying to push his seat back farther than I was letting him go. But every time he did whatever he was doing, my suitcase tilted, and world got rocked.

I was in a total daze upon exiting at Tanggu. I was also freezing. I just wanted to get in a taxi and get back to TEDA. The swarm of people grabbing taxis at the exit, though, was insane. In the past, I've either had the mobility to wander farther afield for a taxi, or have had to purchase tickets for another trip and so missed the mass exodus that I was at that moment being swept into. I'm actually not sure what happened. A man asked where I was going. I told him, and assumed that I'd be going with him. But then he asked another group of people where they were going. Then they asked him how much he was charging, and I was like, wait, I can't handle that right now. So I started walking the line, looking for the point where the number of people jumping taxis petered out. Then suddenly another man was in front of me, asking if I was going to TEDA. I'm still not sure how he knew. But he said what sounded like 10 yuan to go, and motioned me into his cab where two other women were sitting. He'd already whisked away my suitcase and I was trying to figure out in my head if I was getting ripped off or not. Well, not, I was saving at least Y1.40. I got in. Was slightly unsure if he knew exactly where he was taking me. We dropped one woman off first, then I got into the front seat and then remembered my thing about sitting in the front seat of Chinese vehicles with no seatbelts. I think I did not fasten my seatbelt. He drove me in to the complex as far as he could, I gave him a 20 just to see if he'd really said 10, and he had. I clambered upstairs, and about 5 and a half hours after touching down in Beijing, I was "home."

I have arrived

Turns out that my flight from Newark was only 13 hours.

The embraer, though small, was comfortable enough for me, and I liked not having to sit next to anyone. It wasn't a very full plane though, and the other passengers were mostly jovial suited men. I slept, obviously, and upon arrival at Newark was so dazed that I could barely follow the trail, which bent oddly, that they had set up on the tarmac. There was a man with a few pieces of paper stapled together and so I thought I had better see if he had an opinion about where I should be heading, considering I had no idea. He directed me to a small shuttle bus sitting off to the side. In it, there was a fellow passenger also on the trek to my terminal, so I decided that I must follow her wherever she went, because she was alert and I was not. I assumed she was alert because she was able to ask questions of the driver. The bus took us to another bus, which I also boarded, ever behind this other woman. That bus did arrive at terminal C.

Terminal C at Newark has to have some of the worst airport bathrooms I've encountered. Concourse C at Dayton wasn't that great either, by the way. Earlier this month I had planned on writing an entry exclusively rating the airport bathrooms I've visited recently, but never got around to it. It's on the table though.

Somehow managed to pass 3 hours there. I think a lot of it happened when I leaned over my backpack for a moment and then promptly fell asleep. I woke up just in time for them to announce that everyone needed to form a single-file line to check in again-- so that they could examine our passports.

I'd thought I'd be seated in 40E (smack center of the plane), but somehow last night I guess I managed to change my seat to 24D, which is an aisle seat in the center row. It was bizarre because when choosing seats after booking, nearly all seats were shown as occupied except for a few non-window-non-aisle seats in the back of the plane. When I unsuccessfully attempted online check-in, though, nearly all of the seats at the front of the plane were available, so I tried to switch. After my attempt failed though (they need to check your passport in person, I guess) I went to view my itinerary again and my seat hadn't changed. And then when I went to look at the seating chart again, I got the original mostly-booked chart with my original seat. So I just ignored it and moved on.

Anyways, it wasn't a very full flight so while boarding, some people got spread out a bit so that people could have more room. The center seat in my row was unoccupied, so not only did I get a second blanket, but I also got to take advantage of the tray table. This excited me.

The 777 had personal TVs on all of the seats, and while they were a pain to navigate, there were some interesting things going on. I watched two movies during the flight: Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, and How to Eat Fried Worms. The first one was all right... I probably would have enjoyed it a lot less if Lee Pace hadn't been in it. However, I would like to recommend right now that everyone go watch How to Eat Fried Worms. I very very vaguely remember this book from either the 3rd or 4th grade... I think it was well-recieved. The movie though is adorably funny. A lot of those "pffffft" laughter (originally typed lafter... hm) moments, and a lot of those snorkly back of the throat chuckles too.

Did a ton of sleeping. Well, not a ton, but I tried to spend most of my time in a sleeping position with the though that it wouldn't hurt to actually fall asleep. I also spent a lot of time staring at the flight show, at the little airplane making its way along our route and all the info about tail wind speeds, altitudes, and outside temperatures.

A few hours in, we started hitting a lot of turbulence. It's probably not something I would have thought too hard about before this past January, but since the wind-shear/Fresno experience, I've become really paranoid about rocking turbulence. I was wondering what on earth was bouncing such a big plane around so much, and, seeing that we were off the northeastern coast of Canada, concluded that it must have something to do with Kyle, maybe. Maybe that was not the case, but it's all I really had in terms of an explanation. Eventually it subsided, but no one else really seemed that bothered. I was getting rolled around in my seat and folks were still standing up for a leisurely stroll to the bathroom, and only one of them got reprimanded at all.

Yes we were off the northeastern coast of Canada. Our route did not take us over North America and the Pacific like I had for some reason envisioned, nor did we go by way of the Atlantic and Europe as a friend had guessed. Instead, we went straight up over the Artctic and came down through Siberia. Somewhere between 6 and 7 hours in, I got up for a bathroom break and took some pictures of the north pole (or somewhere near it) through the window in the emergency exit. Surprisingly, no one had their windows open. A few of us gawked out for a couple minutes, commenting on the sunlight, then I did my business and went to sit down again.

Meals were eh. I don't think I'll be having the salmon again, though it's partly because of a bad cilantro experience. Dinner came with Milanos though, which I saved, as well as a salad topped with smoked salmon that tasted all right. Later there was a beef and swiss sandwich (more like an oblong sparse swiss burger or LaRosas style hoagie) and a little thing of vanilla haagen daaz. Not bad (kind of a weird combination and if you're lactose intolerant you're screwed), butI don't think I will be eating a whole little thing of ice cream in the future either, because I definitely got like heartburn or something from one or both of those things. Dairy? Lastly came breakfast, which was eggs or "dim sum" and caused a lot of confusion among a lot of passengers. Eventually the attendants started asking "eggs or noodles" by way of clarification. I didn't really know which way to go this time, but ended up going with the thing less likely to make me sick later, meaning not-eggs. The noodles did in fact come with some dim sum items: a pork bun that might have been a bbq pork bun though the filling was odd, a piece of shiu mai that had a large chunk of inedible animal part within, and a leaf of baby bok choi. The accompanying fruit tasted kinda like dish detergent. I haven't had sub-par airline melon in years though, so that was a surprise.

Anyways, that was the obligatory critique of the food, though I should probably follow it by stating that I still appreciate having had the opportunity to enjoy it or not during this flight. I love being served food on the airplane.

Landed in Beijing, just as I remembered it. Entry forms are currently the most straightforward and simple iteration that I've experienced and I wasn't made to fret over an irrelevant customs form this time either.

Got my things and came to the realization that not only could anyone there have just picked them up and walked off with them, but that there's even less safeguard against that in domestic baggage claims in the US. In fact, in Dayton or CVG, anyone could really wander in through the front doors, stand by baggage claim, take however much they wanted, and walk back out through the door. Awesome, right?

Found the driver no problem. Initially I thought I'd have the task of getting on a bus to get on another bus to get on a train to get to where I was going. But my host was really cool and sent a driver to collect me. He took my suitcase and my bag and we made our way into the garage, which is also how I remembered it. I got really nostalgic in there actually. Then we sped through a pedestrian walkway and then nearly ended the life of a sprinting child. He really wasn't paying any attention, though perhaps he wasn't planning on actually running into the path of oncoming traffic in the garage. Even though he stopped in time (he was trying to get some people's attention) he gave me, the driver, and probably his whole family a good pump of adrenaline.

We chatted for a bit and then I was told to get some rest. I tried to say something along the lines of how I'd been resting for the past 13 hours, and I think it worked, but lapsed into silence anyway. I watched traffic patterns and roadside foliage and read the street signs. But then I inevitably fell asleep. I woke up once I think while we were going through Tianjin (or did we go straight to TEDA?) and thought that I should remain conscious to see the city, but fell asleep again until right at the end. The area looks nothing like I expected it might, and the place I'm staying is way nicer than I expected it to be. Mrs. L came down to get me and the two of us moved my things into her apartment.

I got a tour of the rooms and then set up my computer to let my parents know that I'd made it. And there's wireless internet. I also took the opportunity to brush my teeth. My dad was really excited that I'd get to eat his friend's food, so obviously I was excited to. Mrs. L boiled up some squash and chicken dumplings for dinner and they were delicious. Doubly delicious because there was also vinegar involved. God I was so happy when I saw that.

Afterwards, Mrs. L insisted on taking me out to get my feet massaged so that I'd be able to sleep tonight. I'm pretty sure that sleep was always on the docket, but I'll admit that I was enticed by this prospect. Well, enticed and extremely wary because I have a very low tolerance for tickling and that's all I hear when someone says "foot massage."

We walked TEDA's long blocks and she pointed out the landmarks to me. I'd forgotten how positively terrifying it is to cross multi-lane roads here. Maybe I was still in a daze, but there were a couple times that I was confident that the way was clear to walk when a car would advance from the least obvious direction with no intention of sparing anyone in its path. Fortunately Mrs. L saw them all coming.

The massage parlor I guess is run by a friend of hers? We sat down in a room in two comfy chairs and took our shoes and socks off. Two girls came in with buckets of very very hot water that I splashed around in until it was cool enough to just submerge my feet. That felt pretty good. Then the girls came back in and gave us hand and arm massages. Not being a massage person really, I liked this part a lot. My arms have been all out of sorts for months and while this probably didn't do anything to help, it did feel good. Um, it was a bit awkward though because at this point I could look my masseuse in the face and just couldn't think of anything to say to her. So I looked at the ceiling or watched the floor and a little cockroach that was traversing it. At intervals, I'd look up and see it on the wall or on the flat screen TV and wasn't as repulsed as I could have been.

Next I was moved onto a stool so that she could do my back. Ah, ok, I did not like this part. Some of it was appealing, yes, but a lot of it was just pain and her beating the crap out of my lower back. I have no doubt that most of my other friends would have enjoyed this segment of the massage, but it wasn't really for me. At one point the other girl turned around and saw me making the gritted-teeth-wide-eyed cringe and I had to turn it into a smile real fast. She asked me if I was ticklish and so I said yes. I didn't want them to know that I'm a wimp.

Last up came the feet. At first I didn't know if I could make it through without an outburst, but it actually went pretty well. For the feet-- not too ticklish though she kept hitting like a pressure point or something on my instep that was uncomfortable. Also included was a leg massage up to the thigh. I'd closed my eyes at some point and it's possible that I dozed off for a while or something.

And then it was over and we caught a taxi back. I showered, checked the blogs, and then wrote this. Sure, not a masterpiece or anything (unfortunately it looks like it's not entertaining enough to double as an e-mail), but at least now I have all the details accrued thus far.