Airport

Tuesday when we got to the airport, we had plenty of time. Albert told us the plane had still not left Shanghai, that they are often 20-30 minutes late arriving here. So we are relaxed. Well, not exactly, the Hong Kong or Xiamen decision is still up in the air. Albert is nice enough to allow us to use his cell phone to call Beijing. Actually, he calls himself, which is good; he can be more upset than I want to be in this situation. He is; thinks it’s terrible that they have not gotten back to us.

He gets through and talks to Coco in Beijing. She assures him the confirmation was sent via email and gives him the flight number and departure time. He almost hangs up before we remind him we do not know which airline the numbers stand for. Turns out it is Xiamen Airlines, to Xiamen.

What would happen without Chinese friends?

We check in, and of course, since the airport is small and they have nothing else to do, we get our bags checked. The transformers in my suitcase seem to be of interest. Not a problem. I show them, they are happy, I tell them they are for the computer. Forget what they check Grace’s for, but no big deal. We both go through security, and, of course, I also get a thorough body scan. Again, they are just being cautious, not a big deal. The security guy thinks it funny my beard is gone, actually laughs, never seen one do that before. I have several porcelain objects in my bags that usually are checked as porcelain and ceramic material is opaque to X-Rays. But this is Jing de zhen; who doesn’t have porcelain when they leave?

There is a nice “reception hall” for waiting for the flight. Grace and I both comment that we did not, and do not, feel in any way intimidated. The security is thorough, but polite and sincere. In the 80’s you felt they thought every American was a potential threat. That feeling is gone, from everywhere we have been this time. Good riddance.

Flight to Shenzen is uneventful, and the landing is smooth. We have to get our bags and walk to ticketing as we did not check all the way through. Long walk, even turns out it is in a different terminal, terminal A. Have to go back and ask where is terminal A, no signs in English we see. Oh, except directions to the McDonald’s on the ground floor, terminal B. We find terminal A, but cannot locate Xiamen Airlines; we have walked with bags it seems like a mile, at least. Grace asks. Hey, this may be China, but guys don’t ask direction just because they are in a different country!

Ticketing smooth, security again, smooth, get to the gate 30 minutes before departure. We talk to an American businessman who has had interests here for 12 years. He has been to China six times so far this year. That’s brutal on the body, and I tell him so. He agrees. I ask him if he is actually making money and he says reservedly, yes, but. Lots of buts here. Like how do you get the money (RMB) out of the country when it is made? China’s currency is not widely accepted on world financial markets, to say the least. Lots more buts, too many buts for most, but he says he is here for the long term, and willing to put up with it. His money, his time.

Xiamen finally, the airport is large, modern, clean, and well laid out. We get our bags and head to the taxi stand. Wowsers! Grace about panics at the line. We estimate it is better than 100 people long and 75 more get in line behind us, but the taxi cue is working well and there are taxis filling and moving on quite rapidly. It is actually two lanes at a time. One Chinese man suddenly tries to grab a cab without waiting, and a policeman quickly asks him what he thinks he is doing? The taxi had refused him too. He hangs his head, and the policeman shows him the end of the line. Of course, he now has to pass all of us that watched him try to butt the line. Eye contact is minimal from him.

The driver understands my Chinese. Actually that is a surprise because every Chinese location has a different dialect. We are now in Fujian Province, and this dialect is more like Cantonese than Mandarin, which we try to speak. He asks us which way we want to go, and I tell him (this time in English, which I know he does NOT understand) I don’t care--dangerous instructions in many cities worldwide, but OK for here, for now. We travel through the city instead of the long way along the harbor, and it is modern, pretty clean, and nicely laid out.

Get to the hotel, and check-in goes well. Second floor, very clean and sharp room, waterfront facing Gu lang yu Island the old Amoy of Treaty Port fame. Sun is out; we can see blue sky (first time since arriving in China, saw some sun one morning in Suzhou for 15 minutes, that has been all), and Grace is ecstatic. We rest for a bit and then head up to the rooftop restaurant to see if we want to eat there. Wow, open air, beautiful view, and cold beer. What else could an American boy want? Oh, yes, Grace is with me so food is important too.

We each go to a buffet with chefs behind and choose three dishes. Mine are cold octopus with a real wasabi and soy dip, a type of spring roll with seafood and broccoli, onion, and carrots, and five large grilled shrimp on skewers. I recognize the octopus tentacles and love them. The wasabi sauce kicks me, but is excellent. Hey, this is the coast; you eat seafood don’t you? Grace orders dumplings, seafood mix wrapped in bacon, green (vegetable?) patties and a bowl with a peach half and a cute little paper peacock.

Night falls, lights come on, and we watch Gu lang yu, tomorrow’s destination grow dark and the harbor start to sleep.

Back to the room, and I am beat. I think I go to bed around 7:30 pm and sleep until 6 am. Grace is still working on email and the computer when I go to bed. We learned that there was flash flooding in Atlanta by watching TV—CNN in English—so she was checking on the kids. We have Internet access again in our room, and all is well.

Ah, nice bed, soft bed, clean sheets bed, wonderful dreams bed.

Good night, Wednesday.