I’ll See You Tonight

A twelve-hour flight with two men in economy, both trying to type, is a compromise.  Even if it is the emergency exit row.  He’d type, and rest.  I took to reading my book.  He’d type he’d move forward and unwittingly block my light.  I’d pull back to catch the light.  He pulled back after he typed the next line. I went forward.  And so it went, for an hour or so.  Once again, the arc of the flight had passed without any sleep.  I overheard one and then a third apology for the flight not having a working Wi-Fi in English and then in Chinese on the broadcast.  I was happy to simply type until my electricity ran out.  Then I read and read for hours and considered how to charge my computer.  The MacBook Air wouldn’t draw a charge from the outlet beneath my seat unless you held it just so.  More time to read.         

                                                

Back in Beijing after a week away.  The immigration officer was pleasant.  I got my bags quickly enough and shuffled through the long line.  Two Indian businessmen were being questioned by the customs official at the far end of the inspection machine.  What a hassle that must be.  I wonder if the Indian customs return the favor when Chinese salesmen arrive.  I proceeded through, unmolested and passed out into the familiar gallery of strangers waiting for someone besides me. It got my shuangfenr out at the Starbucks, to assist with the rest of this afternoon I now had before me.

Everyone was home, when I arrived.  So glad to see each member of my family.  I unpack all the books and the dirty laundry I have in my bags.  My younger one had wanted fake eyelashes.  “Here you go.”  The girls were starting an art class this evening in the living room, with a new instructor.  He explained that he’d be able to help them prepare a portfolio for the older one’s college applications.  Art as cram school?  What do I know?  My older one had suddenly decided she was considering an art program. Presumably a portfolio would be required.

I’m tired, but hunger has the upper hand.  The fridge is pretty barren.  A bite of cheese.  A few raisons.  Upstairs, I say: “good night” to the girls.  They all want to go to the gym in the morning.  Me too.  But I explain that I’ll be leaving at 5:15AM for a day-trip down to Shanghai before they’re up.  “Yes.  I’m coming right back.  I’ll see you tonight, before you go to bed.”  A training on China.  Visiting students from South Africa.  I can do that.  I haven’t recovered from the training I just had in the U.S.  That’s alright.  We’ll sleep on the train.  That’s what I always tell myself. 

Sunday, 03/04/18