I Talk Into Space

Early in the morning we have time for everything.  But I stare at all the pressing to-dos on my list.  There’s a call at 8:00AM and another at 9:00AM.  The trip to the gym, the time to meditate all get pushed back and soon there is only time for a shower, a shave and the packing up of a week’s worth of things in this room.  I won’t have time for that bite to eat, as I still need to check out as well.

I try to get my thoughts together on the last decade of China.  I’ve built a course that covers the broad sweep of history and left the morning of the last day to contextualize the present.  The time for which no there are no texts and any summation has the enduring potential of yesterday’s news.  I work over a line or two in my mind and eventually let it go.  I know that after mentioning a few key milestones I’ll naturally flow into what it is I want to say.  And I do. 

The room of students is taking the final exam.  I wrote it.  I’ve read it over countless times.  I assume it will be quick.  They take far longer on it than I assumed they would.  I try to imagine their own perspective on all these new names and places and events.  Things I’ve all sorted and arranged over time, in my mind.  And I wonder and earnestly hope that some of this will give them context when the China of tomorrow increasingly impacts their lives and engenders judgement.

The reflective ride out to the airport at the end of this final day of this class is eaten up by call with four people, preparing for tomorrow’s call with eight people.  I’d forgotten to check in on line, but surprisingly the young lady is still able to get me window seat on this flight back home.  I haven’t much time and she suggested it would be on time, so I head straight to security, still talking all the while or adjusting to mute on my zoom app.  I spy the restaurant that used to be called Pizza Express and head there to get chicken sandwich and glass of white wine.  I talk into space, to the people on the call and the guy at the counter is confused.  Then I speak to him without muting and the people on the call are confused.  Muting, eating, washing down, the call is made for my flight.  It’s boarding.  I should be glad, I know. 

Thursday, 5/30/19