It Occurs To Me

Rainy day, all day.  Melancholy with muted spring green, but precipitation always welcome in Beijing.  I had to take a phone call and noticed that yesterdays heat had vanished.  The temperatures dropped considerably.  Standing in the drizzle, walking up and down the road, trying to maintain connectivity, I considered my short sleeve shirt.  As Johnny Guitar Watson might have said: “way too cold.”

I booked the eight-thirty flight down to Shanghai for tonight.  I did so standing out in the rain.  I always tell the Ctrip staff on the English line, that they do not need to repeat my name and passport information and address and phone and email.  I am also aware that there is a three percent charge on all foreign credit cards.  It hasn’t changed since last week.  I take full responsibility if anything is wrong.  Usually this last clarification clears the way.  Today, the young lady ignored me.  “And your passport number is . . . “  “I have already explained there is no need to repeat it.  I take full responsibility.” “OK.  But I want to be sure.  It is . . . “  “You do not need to repeat it.  I don’t want you to repeat it. “  “But to be clear, it is.”  “NO.”  It occurs to me that this is dumb conversation to be having in the cold rain, in a short sleeved shirt and shorts.

Later I’m packing my bags before a harried dinner will be served and I notice a text that my plane has been cancelled.  Not delayed, mind you, but “cancelled.”  I then notice someone from Ctrip had tried to call me.  I call back.  A woman answers in Chinese.  I know from experience that if I insist we speak in English she will transfer me so I work through my next move with her with less than routine confidence.  The other ticket will be refunded, though it may take a while.  I’ve got a flight on a different airline for an hour later.  Apparently Shanghai has had heavy rain. 

After dinner I notice that this plane has been delayed by an hour and a half.  But second later there is an email saying that this flight has also been cancelled.  This is a problem but there isn’t much I can do about it.  It’s too late for trains and the drive is out of the question. 

For the third time today I’m out in the drizzle speaking with someone from CTRIP.  This time we’re chatting in English.  Though I consider the untapped value of driving this routine along every week in Chinese, possibilities for risk and misunderstanding not withstanding.  Sara has me on a flight for tomorrow morning.  I could have gone at seven in the morning, but I am suspicious about flights that were supposed to arrive this evening and didn’t actually being ready by then.  I opt for the eight in the morning flight and consider my unexpected evening at home.