Last night's report was that we truly had a China experience. We went by plane from Shanghai to Gullin in the south. Well, calling it a plane might be something of an overstatement. Just think of a box of tupperware overstuffed! The Chinese have very, very short legs. I thought I might be able to eat my meal off my knee it was so close to my mouth, but there was no meal. No drinks, no water. Our flight was delayed two and a half hours. In the world there is a universal element in this called "airlinese" when they speak, but don't tell you anything. Not a thing for two and a half hours. Of course, as Americans we can understand this… everything is in Chinese. But the Chinese among us, which was just about everyone else were quite animated. In fact, I might rank it as one of the better action films I've seen in a while. It's not what you're thinking. They were dancing, laughing, sneering, engaged in hundreds of group conversation in such animated fashion that I finally got something of the "communistic" in this communist country. I'm reading this book called Imagine that I'm truly loving. Well, it's reflecting on the "creative impulse" of cities that is stimulated by a higher rate of interactions. And I'm reading this as I realize that this is the most animated, loudest airport lounge I have ever witnessed. I make the connection in my mind between the charged exchanges in this airport terminal and the increases in worker productivity in this nation. It's a curious thought, because it's on the heels of exploring the challenges of city life as well: getting stuck in rush hour traffic in the afternoon, eluding it on the tupperware crammed subway on the way to the airport. It was on the subway that I struggled to share the pole on the subway in very cramped quarters. A warmly smiling man in a brown suit helped me take hold. Kindness to elderly; he was in his thirties. We talked. Kind of. His english was fragmentary. My Chinese is monosyllabic. He is a lawyer, I learn from his card. His english name is Tom, which he has because it's easier. His Chinese name isn't hard to pronounce, but it's a monosyllabic world we've entered. Grunts, smiles, chuckles, gestures. He gives me his card and invites me to email him, because he can google translate us into a relationship.
When we did actually fly; it wasn't to our destination. Weather made it one in the morning, where we landed in Guongzho, about an eight hour drive from Gullin with very, very expensive hotels! With visions of sleeping on the floor in the airport, wishing we could get to our sleeping bags and air mattresses, the woman in front of us erupts into an animated Chinese exchange with a very young steward. He clearly is ill equipped to handle this irate traveler. I think: this could be me erupting, except I don't speak the language and I can tell he hasn't a clue how to respond. So, I laugh at how I've been muted and am relieved of any of the despair that comes with the illusion of being in control and maybe even responsible and realize that I'm liberated to be enjoying a truly, authentic Chinese experience, which hasn't been too costly so far, but could well cost me a night's sleep. And as I'm settling in to thinking "Oh, this is going to be a night to remember…" another announcement comes. This time with translation. They've decided to keep us on the "plane" as rigamortis begins to set in my legs, I'm thinking well all we need is for the air conditioning to go off… and right next to this thought is the awareness that it really never went on. So, I turn on the little twisty vent above and to my surprise and delight, there is actually air coming out. And, Michael asleep in my lap, I'm not going anywhere. Then another announcement a half hour later that they are going to feed us and bring us water, because they need to refuel first and I'm thinking, "Well, that's going to be two hours at least." So, I lean forward and ask this previously animated woman, who fortunately speaks english pretty well, what she had to say and she said that the airlines lied that the delay wasn't due to weather and that Guanzho has nothing but expensive hotels and her friend said that the weather was worse in Guanzho and I'm laughing, thinking this really could have been me. And I say, that we're in for at least a couple of hours on the tarmac spent refueling and waiting for weather, and she laughs.
So, to cut to the chase, we're looking at an hour and a half before we take off and an hour and a half flight and we make it to our hostel at five in the morning after another space mountain ride from the airport totally ignoring red lights and make it into bed as the birds are just beginning to call out at the dawn and I think this has really been a Chinese experience! Never mind that the guy at the hostel was sleeping and didn't speak a word of Chinese, but gav us a nicely worded letter in english requesting our passports in exchange for keys. I'll skip over that. And now, Guillin will become Yamshuo and breakfast will become dinner and Shabbos. We need to get off on our next adventure in this wordless, unfamiliar world that has much contact and connection for us.
Good Shabbos!
In friendship and in love,
Gary, Rabbi Gary, or what you will