Good morning China!

I woke up, my first morning in China, to the sound of a loud knock and angry sounding Mandarin at my hostel door. No peep hole in sight, I opened the door cautiously. There stood the tallest Chinese man I had ever seen, measuring 6' 6", at least, holding a medium sized UPS box. He was visibly irritated. It took a second to realize this wasn't yet another weird, flight induced dream.

The pathetic language-less westerner that I am, all I could utter was Ni hao! 你好! He didn't appreciate the attempt, but rather pushed the box towards my face, continuously pointing at a figure in yuan with his Shrek like fingers. Doesn't take a genius to interpret the universal 'give me my money' signal. 190 yuan worth of tax?!?! For one UPS box sent from the US?!?? I didn't know the exact conversion, but this was more than a private room costs...we truly ARE China's bitch, I thought!

Politics aside, I still had this massive Chinese guy to deal with. And having been in China for exactly 8 hours, I had no yuan on hand. This, I knew, he'd like even less than waking me up. I did what every westerner does when language barriers exist...I grunted and made the no money hand motion. My Chinese UPS friend became livid. He yelled, hand motions a nice extra, and insisted I follow him. Down four flights of stairs we went and then...straight out the hostel door. I didn't dare ask but I assumed, hoped, we were en route to the nearest ATM.

My first view of Beijing was somewhat blocked by the giant that walked in front of me. There I was, hair disheveled, no jacket on, flip flopping behind this angry man in 50 degree weather for several Beijing blocks. I must've been a sight to see. I've been stared at as a tourist many times before; random folks have asked me to take photos with them on countless occasions. But this, this was a different kind of stare...the type the Lohans of the world must get after a major fuck up.

After what felt like hours, we finally reached the ATM. The UPS man yelled something, pointed at the machine, and then, respectfully, turned away. I inserted the card and quickly realized that I was about to have my first crash course in Chinese characters.

It's funny how quickly a desperate brain can recall the positioning of buttons on ATM withdrawal screens. After following button paterns engrained over the years, I was filled with glee when numeric figures, ones I recognized, popped up on the screen. The only issue was, I hadn't yet learned the conversion rate. Let's see...A private room costs 160 yuan, which is approximately $25 dollars, so 200 yuan must be...beep, beep, beep...the ATM began to scream.

I could feel the no longer respectful UPS man's glare on my back. Fearing the ATM would eat my card, which would probably be a UPS offense punishable by death in China, I hit the biggest number on the screen and hoped it didn't exceed the available amount. As the money began to rush out, oh sweet sound, I cracked a smile, feeling somewhat like a new graduate.

I handed Chinese UPS guy 200 yuan. He seemed somewhat pleased. He handed me 10 yuan and started to walk away. He didn't indicate so, but I hoped this meant he was walking me back to the hostel. Truth be told, I had no idea where it was. I might as well have been sleepwalking to that ATM. The paranoia of flip flopping through Beijing, screaming my hostel's name began to spread....Sanlitun...Sanlituuuuun...oh the horror! I walked briskly, trying not to lose sight of the massive giant who knew the way.

I breathed a massive sigh of relief when I caught a glimpse of the ghetto blue neon Sanlitun sign in the distance. The UPS guy walked me to the entrance and then, without a word, turned around and walked away.
Xie Xie (谢谢) I yelled, my western niceties kicking in. He turned around,  gave me the universal farewell hand gesture, and would you believe it, the giant even cracked a smile! Good morning China, I thought.

An unexpected loss

I expected I'd lose some things on this trip. I thought the *things* would be mostly material: the typical passport snatch (every backpackers worst nightmare), the wallet misplacement, mobile phone(s) disaster...or perhaps the less tangible, but just as memorable: loss of greed, jealousy, judgement, reliance on the material, loss of the superficial self...

I expected these things. I would've been prepared for their loss and still am. But note,all these *things* are directly related to the self. The loss of my closest friendship, such a sudden, immeasurable loss...for this, I wasn't prepared, not in the least bit.

While in Yogyakarta, I attended a world famous puppet show at Sultan's Palace. The story the puppeteer told was a sad, beautiful tale...a tale of deceit, loss and pain. Being from the Balkans, it resonated with me. Not the words the puppeteer sang - I didn't understand their meaning - but the music, the movements - these things are universal, they know no geographic bounds,

During the climax of the show, the puppeteer removed the loving face of one of the main characters and replaced it with an evil, deceitful, jealous looking face. It was the Eastern version of character suddenly turns antagonist. The changeover was beautifully done...the gongs paused, silence entered the palace, hands moved swiftly, curtains fluttered. We, the American, the Dutch, Chinese, Javanese, all sensed a breaking point. We were forced to reflect on this moment of pain...we knew the protagonist would be deceived but was unaware. We sat in silence and awaited the eventual doom. It entered, stage left, gracefully, foreshadowing my own demise...

Apparently, it takes less than a month to figure out who your real friends are when you embark on a long, personal journey. I've been blessed with quite a few incredible surprises: a boss, as supportive as a father would be, ensuring I have bread to eat upon my return. A friend in BK willing to step up no matter how big the favor. Another friend, always sending a message when I need it most, rekindling my long lost belief in telepathy. The kindness of those reading this blog, the Facebook support, the incredible strangers extending more love and hospitality than I could have ever hoped for, could have ever imagined!

And then...the antagonist, of course! To my credit, I sensed the mask come off a while ago...it was a final push towards this journey in retrospect, I just couldn't see, not clearly at least, the sharp, bitter, cold lines of the actual face cover while standing so close to it. Within weeks, the new mask took on an incredibly clear shape...lack of response to text, lack of email contact, empty conversations when contact was finally established, lies about contact attempts and...the eventual, complete disappearance and detachment.

I never could choose between 'out of sight, out of mind' and 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'. I guess I still can't choose. I think it depends a lot on the heart. It probably depends on the types of puppets you surround yourself with. Maybe, it all just depends on the swift hands of the puppeteer.