The trip to China is several layers deep. There is the duration of time that passes on planes, in airports, on buses. We left for the San Diego at 5:30pm Friday, and arrived at our Zhengzhou hotel at 11pm Saturday night San Diego time.
There is the adjustment to the time change, and the weird way it make my body feel. To be in a brightly lit very busy airport when I’m supposed to be sleeping is a little nauseating.
There is the transition into the world of China. The tones of the language, the loss of personal space, the dull slowness of my understanding of the gestures and responses to my pantomimed questions like “where can I buy a hair dryer” because mine won’t turn on (at least it’s just that, one year it shot flames out the end when I clicked the on button).
We were a group of 6 traveling together, and we easily flowed through the hours. We met up with some Irish friends in Shanghai, on the bus to the plane (which I think was easily 5 miles from the actual airport), and landed in the oasis of the Sofitel Zhengzhou International in the early afternoon of a hot steamy Zhengzhou day. After a delicious nap, the kind where you sink into the comfy hotel bed buried deep in the sheets taking refuge from the powerful AC, we headed out for dinner and some shopping at the local Walmart for the above mentioned hair dryer.
Today we head for the taiji village. We don’t know where we’re staying. All of these trips come with this guaranteed uncertainty, and that’s part of the allure. How flexible can I be? How attached am I and how easily and quickly can I let go? What really matters?