February 18-19: Departure and Travel

I am writing this from China, in the business center at the good ol’ Grand Sun City Hotel in Changsha.  This was a difficult trip for which to prepare since there were no adoption agency travel info packets and I'd had very little prior communication with my contacts here due to the Chinese New Year.  If there was a loose plan for the first part of my trip, it didn't quite work out and my itinerary for the rest of the trip has been sort of reversed.  Today I'm still working on revisions. 

But I'm here.

Very early on departure day, my wife and I crept from our daughters’ room where because of some post-orphanage sleep issues our whole family has camped each night since we brought Clara-Li home in August.  We dressed, fidgeted with my bags, and went over our checklist of last minute items.  The day before had been Clara-Li’s second birthday and remnants from our little celebration were still strewn around the house along with the usual toys and children’s socks.  We woke the girls, packed them into their car seats, and headed off to the airport, running late.

For several weeks I'd been quietly dreading the moment when we would pull up to the curb at our municipal airport in New Orleans for this trip.  When the moment came, I kissed everyone with my heart pounding and then quickly hopped out of the car.  As I slung my small knapsack over my shoulder and dragged my one larger bag inside, I remember also carrying what seemed like a lot of weight in matters to think about.

Still, the weight would be balanced by the secret to happiness, which lies in giving something up--like your safe position, your predictable routine, often your money--for the courage of your convictions.  So I could smile at least a little bit at the ticket counter when I learned my first flight to Chicago was canceled and that I would be rerouted to China through San Francisco, which would eventually put me on a different and much later flight into Changsha. 

Whoever might be meeting me in Changsha wouldn't find me on the original flight and would have to wait an extra four and a half hours to see if I could be on the next flight arriving from Beijing.   Late for my new flight to San Francisco, I quickly boarded and borrowed a cell phone from a nice guy stuck in the seat next to me and, as we taxied toward the runway, called home to see if we could get a message to OCDF.  Then I hoped for the best.

In San Francisco the different United Air flight to Beijing was very crowded and the plane itself had seen better days.  I sat next to a Chinese man who had been living in the U.S. but now was planning to start a business in Beijing, a car buying guide for new Chinese motorists.   We compared optimistic anecdotes from our recent trips to China and he was a cheerful complement to a long flight. 

I arrived in Beijing at 6 pm on the 19th, where the airport was crowded with New Year's travelers and where I almost lost my luggage for good.  In New Orleans and San Francisco I'd been told at each flight counter that my bag would be checked all the way to Changsha.  When I finally got to the domestic terminal in Beijing I thought I'd ask again.  Nope, we determined through sign language, my bag was probably back at the international terminal baggage claim.  I had 10 minutes to board.  So I ran back through both terminals and customs in reverse, which caused some audible gasps, and found my lonely bag at the claim area.   Then I ran back in the other direction, through customs, and unbelievably they waved me through security.  At the gate for the Changsha flight, they almost wouldn't let me on, but I was persistent.

There were no other foreigners on the Changsha flight.  I sat among a rough looking group of men who were alternately laughing and arguing over something written in a newspaper that one man kept slapping against the back of the seat in front of him.   Another in the group lit a cigarette in defiance of the airline's no smoking rule and the whole scene was out of place on the brand new China South plane with its cheery and earnest young flight attendants, who weren't quite sure how to handle this group.  I tried to sleep.

It was already late at night and the air was very cold as we stepped off the plane in Changsha.  Inside the terminal I cleared customs, claimed my one checked bag with no small amount of relief, and headed toward the main lobby into the New Year traveling crowd.  Among the faces lining the railing after the entrance to the public area I spied someone waving a sign with my name.  This was Song Xuefeng, my guide assigned just in the past day or so, and now my good friend who goes by the English name Leon.  He is a tall young man in his mid 20s, who speaks English well and has a quick smile and an easy, confident demeanor. 

When no foreigners had gotten off my originally scheduled flight from Beijing, Leon had simply decided to wait it out for the next one.  No problem, he said, smiling like he meant it.   He'd brought a book.

Outside the airport we climbed into a small Korean-built van driven by an amiable man named Chen and this little vehicle will eventually take us south toward Hengdong in a day or so, if all goes according to plan.

It’s good to be back, I found myself thinking as we drove through dark streets to downtown Changsha, yet I was struck by how different the city felt without the comfort and diversion of a travel group. Even the Grand Sun City Hotel felt different, although we had lived with eight other adoptive families at this same location for more than week just six months ago.  The difference was that this time I was no longer part of a grand collective effort.  Instead I was just there on business, the nature of which was very important to me, but not particularly obvious to anyone else.

Leon told me more details of my permission to travel to the Hengdong SWI.  He confirmed that I would be the first to visit there and said he was very surprised that provincial civil affairs officials had okayed the trip.  It was a civil affairs [provincial government] decision and not the orphanage's, he said.  Anyway, he said he thought this was a kind of experiment, and advised that I not mention the trip at the hotel.  With this I should note for Hengdong adoptive families that I am fully aware of my ad hoc ambassador status and will do nothing that would jeopardize trips for future Hengdong travelers.  There will be no sneaking of photos at the orphanage if photos are not allowed, for instance.       

My body had no idea what time zone it was in and there was a dull throb in my head after I checked in at the Grand Sun.  I've had about 6 hours of sleep since Wednesday and it's Sunday morning now. 

I find myself hoping that I can hold up through the rest of the trip and somehow pull this off.

By the way, there are at least three adoption groups at the Grand Sun, one from the U.S. and the others from Europe, I believe.  At least one more arrives tonight.