(Nanchang travelogue, first of my random thoughts of our trip to China.)
Smoggy first night in Beijing
We'd still be in Nanchang if not for Gary. Some people edit words for a living (that would be me), but others do things that are useful to society, such as fix bus engines. I had a great view of everything too. We were on our way to the Nanchang airport on Feb. 9, babies and spouses in tow, when our ice-veined bus driver was faced with a dilemma. He could plough head-on into a black Audi that had suddenly crossed what can, in Nanchang, only loosely be called a centre line. The centre line in Nanchang is actually more like a guideline, in which generally traffic stays on one side or the other, but if you feel like it you can cross over and just for fun watch the vehicles scatter. Or, our bus driver could avoid a certain collision by stalling the bus and limping to the shoulder. So we limped to the shoulder.
Another traffic tie-up in Nanchang
Lucky for us it was downhill or Gary would have had to get out and push us. We were stalled, and the engine wouldn't start, and we and our kids had a flight to catch to Beijing, but I had no fear. Since Gary works with heavy equipment at a construction company in Regina, I knew a) that he might know what he's doing, and b) if he does know and doesn't have the parts or tools, he'll use good old Saskatchewan ingenuity and concoct something with binder twine and the cuff of his pants. I don't know how he did it, but Gary got the bus going. If only he knew how to fix airline toilets, but we are getting ahead of ourselves.
Gary examines the stalled bus, James supervises, frantic Cindy tries to figure out Plan B
We left Nanchang, and Jiangxi Province, on Feb. 9 with bittersweet memories. This is the province of my daughter's birth. Her first home was a couple of hundred kilometres to the southeast, in the city of Xinyu, southeast China. She's had a rough go of life so far; we hope to change that but on Feb. 9 we had only had her for four days, and while we had waited for her for months and loved her from the moment two months earlier when we first saw her photo, she had not been waiting for us. She didn't ask to join our family, and maybe if given a choice she wouldn't have wanted to. But by the time we took that bus ride out of Nanchang, she seemed somewhat content, if not a little mystified at the strange voices her parents made when they talked to her and dangled things in front of her nose.
As we left Nanchang I thought about the journey we had taken: the long flight from Vancouver to Beijing, our stomachs doing cartwheels in anticipation and fear of the unknown, my panic attacks over losing our passports and paperwork. Seated on the flight behind us were Kevin and Catherine, whom we did not yet know, but Kevin soon learned about my missing passport phobia, which provided no end of amusement. Oh the laughs we had at my expense.
Catherine and Kevin enjoy the plane trip to Beijing
We landed in Beijing on Sunday in a shroud of choking, grimy pollution, so thick I thought I could set my drink on it. We met the other couples in our group, and I was relieved to find out Tsingtao beer is not so bad after all. We were up early Monday, Feb. 5, shared breakfast with the Kazakhstan national soccer team, and soon were back at the airport to fly to Nanchang. We were a tired lot when we arrived in the afternoon, but I sensed our spirits pick up when we met our guide, Cindy, a bright, radiant university student who, more than anyone, was responsible for getting our group through the week and on the bus to the Nanchang airport with kids on our hips and our spirits intact.
Bryn and Cindy say farewell at the Nanchang airport
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