Sink or Swim

Beijing Bound Bobby and Brendan (from Boston)

So here I am in Beijing! The airplane seems so long ago—and who knew thirteen hours of flight could go by so quickly? It really helped that I had my friend and fellow domer Bobby Manfreda coming along with me. I hate traveling alone!

Detour to the north pole... Northern Water Tribes?

From the arctic to the Mongolian Desert.

I suppose I can best compare my arrival to being thrown head-over-heels into a choppy ocean. It was a quick and disorienting succession of actions and quick decisions that got us over the Pacific (via the north pole!) and to the CIEE waiting spot at the airport, but we did it! After that, it was introduction after introduction, resulting in us cramming onto a bus and zooming through the insane Beijing traffic.

Hey...what's your name? 

EVERY ONE OF US WORE ND--DOMERS REPRESENT!!!

Besides simply getting to my dorm room, I had another mission--I had to somehow transport the four-month’s supply of the medicine, Humira, that was slowly thawing in my medical cooler to the fridge in the CIEE office. After dropping off my two very heavy suitcases in my temporary dorm room (until the host families are ready), I hunted down John, the student services director, who took me there on a bus that pulled a u-turn in the middle of a six lane road. Beijing drivers make Boston drivers look sane.

At that point, Beijing was a smear of neon lights and honking cars—I had no idea where I was, let alone who I was with, and, most importantly, how I was going to get back to the other students in the program, who would be leaving for the welcome dinner in a few minutes. The rapid-fire Chinese at every turn was not helpful either! I was terrified that I would be left to find my way back to my off-campus dorm, which would almost definitely result in me getting lost and swallowed up in this foreign city. To my relief, however, John showed me back to the front of the building. The other kids had gone to dinner long ago. Here I was, by myself for the first time since I had landed. I was starving, but where was I supposed to get food? I knew I would be far too nervous to attempt to handle a Chinese waiter, let alone where to go. I decided that I should just return to my room to see what I could scavage from my bag. 

I stopped in my tracks. Was I really going to go back and hide in my room? Here I was, in China, about to make a meal out of what, Milano cookies and cough drops? I refuse to be the study-abroad student the advisors tell you not to be; I refuse to be so timid. No matter how disoriented and tired I was, and no matter how hard the language barrier was, I wasn’t going to sit this out because I was alone and scared. Here I was in the vast, wide sea—you either give up and sink, or kick your legs and swim. I determinedly hunted down the nearest restaurant and sat down. I opened the menu, ordered food, and, for the first time, relaxed. My medicine was stored; my bags were in my room. Everything was fine. And, as it turns out, green tea with chrysanthemum flowers floating at the surface and lemon chicken is a much better meal than milanos and cough drops. Who knew?

Really good tea. 

That was the first time in a long time that I felt brave. It sounds so insignificant—so what, Brendan, you went to a restaurant and ordered food—big deal! But add a sleepless thirteen-hour flight, a completely new environment, completely new people, and a language you only know from a textbook, and simple tasks can become daunting. Even communicating with the waitress was hard—I had learned a different word for “check,” so when she kept wringing her hands and repeating “maidan?” over and over, I was horribly lost. But I kept at it—with the waving of the hands, the pointing, and most importantly, the explaining in any manner possible, and we got through it. I’m just glad she put up with me.

I then got lost getting back to my dorm, which was probably the scariest moment of the night. Lost in Beijing? Good riddance, bairen. Bobby, Mary, Daniel, and Christine, the other domers, were right now happily at dinner with knowledgable guides and pack security, and here I was, all by myself in an endless expanse of urban darkness. But again, curl up in a ball and cry—sink—or use every instinct possible to find the damn thing—swim. I walked and walked and, eventually, there it was! I suppose the only thing better than never being lost is to be lost and find your way back. You really learn a thing or two along the way.

I was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to fall into a deep sleep, but Beijing had just one more surprise for me that night. As soon as I turned out the light, I noticed that something was glowing on the wall above my bed. The previous owner of the room—whoever it had been—had, out of glow-in-the-dark stars, created two shapes—a gigantic heart, and a tiny cross. To the lonely and insecure, a thing like that means a lot—it was as if the universe was trying to show me that everything was okay. With heavy eyes and sore limbs, I drifted away beneath that giant heart and tiny cross, comforted by the stranger who had decided to leave her stars up for a weary and frightened traveler. 

look closely...