Words can’t express what it feels like to hold the little ones in your arms with absolute contentedness. I miss it already. My visit home was fulfilling and refreshing. I spent a lot of time with my sister and nephews, which was nice. I didn’t spend as much time with everyone else as I would have liked, not even my parents and grandparents. I miss them already. I will make sure to do that part better next time.
The first week, I got around a little to see a few people. The second week, I stayed home (my sister’s house) in my new fuzzy robe. Most of the immediate family was on vacation from school and work so it was nice just to do nothing. Unfortunately, I did a bit too much of nothing that week and paid for it my third week. I had many lunch and coffee dates and not nearly as many as I would have liked. I rushed to visit with friends and some family, missing seeing many I wanted to see. I rushed to get packed and to my great disappointment, left a mess, once again, though not as big of a mess as I did last time, for my sister and brother-in-law to clean up. I had to go through my things and determine what to keep, donate, and toss. I left three huge piles in the basement each labeled accordingly in addition to many mini-piles around my old bedroom. Once again I procrastinated; it affected others, and I got angry at myself for it. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever break this terrible habit. Sometimes I wonder when God’s grace for my failures will run out. Then I remember it will never run out.
The trip back was… productive. Let’s just call it productive. 36 hours. 5 airports. 4 plane trips. I’ll never take the cheapest ticket despite the itinerary again (if I can help it).
It started at Reagan Airport. Actually it started long before that, around the time of my birth, but for the sake of time, we’ll say it started at the airport. My mom drove me to the airport and after getting all of my luggage securely on the luggage cart, we hugged and kissed good-bye. I disappeared in through the automatic doors and she got in her car and pulled off.
Once I obtained my ticket and checked my baggage, I reported directly to the security line. The security people were all very nice… and thorough. One of the guys asked me where I was headed. “China,” I replied. “China. Wow. China… Why?” This is the typical response. Suddenly another security personnel appeared with a hand held hand scanner. “Excuse me mam, We’re doing random security screenings. May I see your hands please?” “Uh… sure.” He ran the machine over the palms of my hands and my fingers. “Thank you very much.” “Uh okay.” Smiling, I added “May I ask what that does?” “Oh it just checks your hands for traces of dangerous chemicals.” Confidently and with a smile, I nodded and responded “Okay.” It happened very quickly. I continued telling the other guy that I was a teacher.
As I continued through security, I was gently padded down. My bags were scanned, dissected, and rescanned. The security woman reached in my purse and found a large fancy glass ice cream dish that my dad had turned into a candle holder by melting wax into it and given to me as a gift. She looked at it closely, held it up to the light, turned it slightly, sniffed it, and placed it back in my purse. I was free to go.
Once I boarded the plane, I was relieved to see that my seat was an aisle as I had requested. I flew to St. Louis and met the most barren airport I had ever seen. It’s not even worth describing. It was nice. I like barren airports as long as I’m not hungry. Less than one hour later, I flew to Los Angeles in the same aisle seat on the same plane. I had to go through security again in order to transfer to my next plane.
I practically tripped my way through. As I started to exit the security line, feeling disheveled but successful, I realized I didn’t have my passport and boarding pass. I frantically went through the pouch I normally keep it in. I went back to security and searched through the pile of bins where I had been. I told the security guy I think I lost my passport and he replied with a tone of unconcerned, but hopeful sympathy “You’re passport huh?” And walked away. The man behind me looked concerned but there was nothing he could do. He said “good luck finding your passport” with a genuinely concerned tone before exiting the security gate. I found it in my purse a few moments later.
Once I reached my gate, I felt relieved and realized I was hungry. I knew the flight would be long and I didn’t know whether or not the airplane food would be edible, so I went to the only restaurant that was opened—Burger King. The line was long and the service was slow. Really slow. Unnaturally slow. I thought about ordering whatever was already ready, but didn’t. I ordered a salad with chicken—crispy chicken and a Whopper. It took twenty minutes to get the meal. Apparently they had to cook fresh crispy chicken because when I finally got it, there was a package with a freshly cooked crispy chicken patty torn apart by hand in the bag with the salad. I ate the salad and saved the Whopper.
To my disappointment when I got on the plane, I was in a center seat. I cursed under my breath without thinking and then hoped the guy next to me didn’t hear me. My anxiety immediately went up and only soared higher when I was about to sit down and my money, a lot of American and Chinese cash went flying all over the airplane floor in front of everyone. “Ooh money” the guy next to me said. I quickly gathered it up and shoved it in the pouch remembering to zip it completely shut this time. I uncomfortably sat in the cramped middle seat with my huge book bag under my feet. I was eyeing the aircraft, looking for empty aisle seats to move to. Just before takeoff, I asked the fight attendant if I could move to the one just across the aisle. I did.
I took some Nyquil hoping to sleep and not to have so many ear problems and I was out like a light within minutes of takeoff. I woke up to the sound of meals being passed out but too tired and disinterested in the menu to care, so I pulled my mask back over my eyes and drifted off to sleep. I slept most of the night and woke up very hungry. I ate my cold whopper and went back to sleep. It was the best plane ride of them all.
In Beijing, I gathered my luggage after the longest wait of my life. It took nearly an hour for all three checked pieces to make it to the luggage belt. They seemed to be sending the luggage from the plane to the customer one bag at a time. I had just enough time to get the bags, clear customs and immigration, check-in for my connecting flight, go through security again (where I almost forgot my Kindle and Laptop in the tray), find my gate, get a cup of coffee and piece of Apple Pie because I couldn’t find any appealing breakfast, and board the plane.
The final plane ride was nice. I read a book for most of the flight on my Kindle. Mike and Christina met me at the airport after I got my luggage. I was walking through the gates and saw the crowds waiting for the arrivals. Immediately, I spotted Christina and waved at her. They were standing in the center of the crowd in the front row. We took a taxi to my apartment and they helped me bring my luggage up. There were clothes all over my apartment from the day I left and I wasn’t even embarrassed.
While I was packing three weeks ago, I tossed clothing to and fro. There were shirts on the living room floor. Socks on the couch. Socks on the sink. Shirts in the hall. Clothes everywhere.
After Christina and Mike left, I had to do something about that terrible odor that emanated from me after being in 5 airports in two days. I smelled. I hadn’t had time between any of the flights to freshen up like I usually do. It was embarrassing how strongly I smelled.
When they left, I took a shower and then called Sonda. She offered to heat me up some homemade soup if I came over. It was like being home. Chicken tortilla Southwestern heaven. It made a wonderful end to the traveling day. We chatted for a while and then I walked home. It was a good 45 minute or so walk. Right now my ankles are still swollen like golf balls. I have bruises from I don’t even know what during travel, and blisters on my hand in the odd shape of a line—from dragging luggage on wheels that was so heavy I had to stop for breath.
All in all it was a productive travel experience. I wrote a lot for my book during the flight form St. Louis to Los Angeles and got a lot of reading done. God provided. I made all of my flights, got all of my baggage, made it here safely, and didn’t fall once… just everything I was holding fell.
Tomorrow I teach. I don’t know what I am going to teach but I’m sure I’ll be bright eyed and bushy tailed at 4 am to figure something out. J
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