Gruel or Omelet?

On a plane full of sleepy eyed people.  It’s six thirty in the morning on this Air China flight to Hangzhou.  Everyone else must have gotten up at four thirty this morning, just like me, to get dressed and motor themselves over to the airport.  Fortunately the mood is subdued and everyone is reasonably quiet.  Whoever they got to do the inflight message in English clearly hails from Australia. 

This will be the third time I’ve bounced through Hangzhou in succession after not seeing the city for twenty years.  Fortunately this trip will not also involve another mad dash over to the Hangzhou Eastern Rail Station for a high speed ride over to Shanghai.  It will not involve that dreadful cab queue in the basement of the Hong Qiao Rail Terminal that requires an interminable gauntlet of touts and beggars.  I should be on the flight back up home in about thirteen hours.

I am completely underdressed for Beijing with a dress shirt and a simple coat.  But I knew I wouldn’t be outside for very long.  I’m calculating that Hangzhou will be warmer.  Who knows?  And it is time to power off.  See you in the air. 

A good nap.  Normally you might fight it, but this morning I happily surrendered.  I told the stewardess I’d take a pass on the regulation Air China breakfast; gruel or omelet, and slept on through.  Now we’re having our regulation turbulence and the third broadcast concerning this.  Yawning, I’m up.

I just finished the cheerful puppet play of in my Anthology of Japanese Literature, after I awoke: “Love Suicides at Sonezaki" by Chikamatsu Monzaemon, based unfortunately, on a true story.  From the early eighteenth century, two hapless lovers from Osaka were cheated and fated to either part ways or part from the world.  In my China Daily this morning I put some time in with a story about Iris Chang, two of whose books I have read.  A theme perhaps . . . The man off to my left is looking at a book which appears to be have something to do with Chinese art history.  The paintings are interesting.  They almost look like geological formations.  I’m curious.  Who is he?  Why is he flying down to Hangzhou?  I’d rather glance over at that than have my eyes pulled in by an action film on someone’s laptop.  Our fourth turbulence message is underway.