China travel-Wendy

We were told before coming to China that we would encounter numerous situations and experiences that would be frustrating and likely maddening at times.  These frustrating moments would come and go living in a country where you can’t speak or read the language and where the culture is vastly different from your own. 

It was also suggested to us to look at the many ‘frustrating’ experiences yet to come as ‘fascinating’ experiences instead.  And so the term stuck.  We have repeated amongst the eight of us, time and time again, how wonderfully ‘fascinating’ some moments and days are.  When something is going awry we often smile across the way at each other and talk about how ‘fascinating’ it is! 

And so…..I will share with you my ‘fascinating’ day of travel. 

The boys and I traveled to Xian to do some sightseeing during a long weekend. (Eric needed to study for classes he is taking this summer in the US)  Xian is 4 hours by bus from our city and we were excited to see the infamous Terracotta Warriors, the Muslim Quarter, and much more. 

We were headed back to our city from Xian on a Monday morning.  I had to teach at the school from 2:40 p.m.-6:10 p.m.  Our bus left at 9am and would arrive in Shiyan at 1pm.  It’s then 45 minutes on another bus to the school.  That would give me nearly 1 hour to change, eat and head to class.  Perfect scheduling if I do say so myself. 

I am a meticulous planner when traveling so as to lessen the mishaps.  I had asked our hostel staff to call ahead to confirm the location of the bus station and write it down for me.  It was an obscure little station and I was worried that a taxi driver wouldn’t be able to find it.  They got the needed info and so I had my bus ticket which had the bus station’s location on it as well as the paper written by the hostel staff.  It was fail proof.  Right?   

May 13^th 06:30-Up and at ‘em.  We woke up, had breakfast, finished packing and checked out of our hostel

07:30-Stood on the street to catch a taxi with our trusty handwritten paper to guide the taxi driver.  It is a 45 minute drive to get to the bus station.  We had an hour and ½ before our bus’s departure. 

08:05-We waited and waited and waited for a taxi to no avail.  How can a huge city have so few taxis?  Every taxi we saw either already had passengers or were flagged down just before us by others waiting.  I even resorted to putting Brinson on a different corner than Aiden and I to wave down taxis going the opposite direction.  No luck.  I was getting quite nervous now knowing that I only had 55 minutes until our bus left and the drive itself was 45 minutes.  Missing our bus didn’t feel like an option b/c we would have to pay for our bus tickets again and I needed to be back to teach my classes and had no time to spare.  (The next bus would leave about 2 hours later)

I was getting desperate.

As we continued trying to wave down taxis that passed us by with happy passengers in them, a motorcycle pulled up.  In that moment every bone in the body of this nurse, mother, daughter, sister and wife screamed DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT.  I’m pretty much anti-motorcycles.  My first week here I witnessed a horrible scene of a motorcycle accident victim lying next to his bike with blood pouring out of his head and a group of about 50 people standing in a circle staring at him. 

I couldn’t fathom this situation where it felt like my only logical choice was to ride on one of these death machines (Sorry to all of the motorcycle fans out there).  No seatbelts, no helmets, no cushion between me and the ground.  UGH!

After talking to him in my scant and broken Chinese I communicated where I needed to go and that I needed 2 motorcycles to carry all 3 of us.  He waived down a motorcycle buddy and we worked out an astronomical price (I didn’t have time for bargaining at this point).

Then I proceeded to act out that I wanted the motorcycles to ride together and that I didn’t want to crash, fall and/or die.  I think they thought I was funny.  But I wasn’t laughing nor was I being funny. 

They seemed to agree to all of my dramatized stipulations and agreed that they knew where the bus station was.  They needed the boys together on one and me on the other.  “Dear Lord, please get us ALL there and ALL safely”.  I wrapped my arms around his middle and held on for my life.  I demonstrated for the boys how to hold on too (hoping the men weren’t ticklish) like this.  My driver kindly turned around and moved my arms from his midsection and onto the tops of his shoulders.  I then told the boys to do the same.  Off we went.  As we sped along I made a quick call to Eric to pray that we survive the long ride. 

Our drivers stuck right together just as I had somehow managed to ask.  Thankfully I didn’t have to worry about that!  I glanced over many times to see the boys smiling ear to ear, giggling and taking in the sights. 

“Mom, why aren’t you having fun?” Brinson shouted to me.  I told them I was scared to death and that I’d smile when we arrive. 

As we weaved in and out of huge buses, taxis, parked cars, bicyclist, and pedestrians, I kept praying. 

08:35 a.m. Finally we arrived, intact.  I snapped a quick photo and they motioned where to go in. 

Upon entering I was met quickly with a frown and an adamant statement that I was at the wrong bus station. 

You must be kidding me.  Hurriedly, I asked if she could write down where I needed to go so I could attempt to find a taxi (again).

She led me to a smoke filled room, with men in uniforms lounging around with their feet propped up, to borrow a pen to write instructions down.  (I didn’t have a pen and neither did she). 

They looked at me like I had three heads and discussed among themselves my problem and if anyone had a pen.  A young man emerged from the back and quickly motioned to me that he would take me in his personal car to the right station.  This sort of thing happens routinely in China- people quick to help the foreigner.  We’d never even consider this in many parts of America but, as counterintuitive as it seems, China is much safer in this regard.  

Oh boy, there’s no telling what this guy is going to charge me, I thought.  I asked him and he said nothing.  What!?   Wow—he is an angel!

As we crept along in traffic, he called a friend asking for directions.

08:50 a.m.—At last ……10 minutes before departure he pulled in to the correct bus station.  Then I breathlessly hurried our luggage out of his car.  I had decided that culturally it would be inappropriate for me to hug him, although I wanted to.  We said in Chinese, “Thank you very much friend” and I snapped one more photo. 

We made it –in the nick of time.

But…..our bus ended up being delayed and leaving at 10 a.m. instead of 9 a.m.  All that craziness for nothing!   ‘Fascinating’.

This will cut my arrival home time extremely short to make it to my classes to teach. 

We stopped at a rest stop at 12:00.  I decided on a type of Ramen noodles, bought my bowl, put hot water in it and hurried back to the bus to enjoy my lunch.  I was actually going to savor this bowl of noodles b/c I was pretty hungry by this time. 

As I climbed onto the bus the attendant told me I couldn’t eat the noodles on the bus.  At this point, I may or may not have huffed onto the bus, irritated and upset that I had to throw away the uneaten lunch I just bought and prepared (and was really looking forward to eating).  Great –no lunch today.

I sat back down and continued listening to our book on tape with the boys.  The story of Corrie Ten Boom.  Well that put me right in my place.  How ridiculous of me to pout over my noodles after reading a story such as hers.  Shame on me.   

Thank you Father for our safety, for ‘fascinating’ days and experiences, and for your extravagant love.  And for noodles of course.

Note to self: next time take the 7:30 bus.

2:30 p.m.-I pulled up to the school, Eric practically threw a ½ PBJ sandwich and my books at me and I hurried off to teach. 

2:38 p.m.-Arrived in my class with 2 minutes to spare.  Ah…sigh….What a day. 

2:40 p.m.-Hoping I don’t have peanut butter on my face I smile and tell the 47 smiling faces looking back at me “Good Afternoon”!