It snowed but wrong day

If you've never experienced international travel, just imagine getting a root canal AND a colonoscopy at the same time SANS SEDATIVE! As you can imagine by my description, things have gotten a little strange here.

As I write, it is 12:37 Monday morning and we're still with our kids. We're SUPPOSED to be on a flight somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, winging our way to LAX. But it snowed in Beijing.

We left for the local airport about 1:15 P.M. for a 3:45 P.M. departure to Beijing, connecting with the international flight at 9:00 P.M. We stuffed ourselves into one of the undersized taxis they have here and began our 45 minute trip to the airport. We'd gone through the gut-wrenching good bye's with 3 year-old Grace who didn't want us to leave. She kept saying, "I want you to stay a long, long, long, long, long...time." I'd already had a tough morning as we sang some songs together as a family and shared some Father time. She loves to dance to the music and her sweet, innocent (most times) little face just pulled at the strings of my heart. And Trinity was so lovable and cuddly this morning (I'd rather had my teeth scraped than say good bye).

Brigitte accompanied us to the airport. The traffic was light and when we arrived at the airport, the crowd as the counter was almost non-existent. Judy commented, "This has been the smoothest trip we've made." (Picture waving a red flag in front of a bull.) As we were checking in, the agent commented, "It's snowing in Beijing. You might have a small problem getting out tonight." Brigitte and I looked at the flight schedule board and our flight was listed with an on-time departure. Brig asked if the flight to Beijing would be O.K. and the young agent gave a grunt and handed us our boarding passes. We checked our luggage, said good bye to Brig, and cleared security. We found a place to camp out until our flight time. (I noticed our flight was posted but no gate had been assigned. Not unusual for a gate posting to not occur until one hour before departure.) At the appropriate time I went to check on our gate number--still no number. As I stared at the screen I noticed earlier flights entering the screen--flights to Beijing with the word "delayed" attached. The 9:50 A.M. and the high noon flights were both delayed. (As I watched, I imagined a B movie with the title "The 9:50 to Beijing." It would be a Western--I mean, an Eastern--with Jackie Chan as the good guy.) Announcements began to be made informing us the flights were being "delayed" due to poor weather in Beijing and "would you please be patient and remain in your seats." Finally I realized "delayed" is Chinese code for "delayed until tomorrow." Others began to realize it as well. (There was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth until Judy slapped me.)

PROBLEM! What do you do when you're in a foreign land and can't speak the language and your flight gets delayed/cancelled? We'd miss our connecting flight back to LAX as well as miss our pre-paid Priceline secured hotel AND miss our stateside flight on good old Southwest Airlines.

A kindly American who lives in Beijing helped me realize what we needed to do and loaned me his cell phone to call the kids. We then began the process of cancelling our boarding passes, reclaiming our luggage, rebooking flights, and getting a taxi back to the kid's house. Here's where the not-so-fun part comes in. (Imagine getting the root canal AND the colonoscopy AT THE SAME TIME without sedative; the dentist/doctor get angry at each other and forget to stop. The drill and the scope meet in the middle. I just checked my belly and I have another navel and I know how it got there.) To explain how the Chinese airline "works" is a challenge. The best picture I can draw is for you to imagine Adrian Monk (from the t.v. show "Monk") making the rules and a group of circus clowns implementing the rules--only they're not funny.

Here's where we are tonight. My sweet Brigitte spent 90 minutes on the phone to the airline in Beijing trying to get us a flight out of Beijing to LAX. We were able to reschedule our local flight to Beijing at the local airport, but the switchboard and lines were jammed in Beijing (meaning the little hamster had taken some time off and the cans and wires from here to there were down). We DO have tickets for tomorrow's "high noon" flight but our tickets for the Beijing/LAX leg are for Wednesday. (WEDNESDAY? DON'T THEY KNOW WE'RE EMPLOYED AND NEED TO KEEP OUR JOBS?!?!)Here's the plan. We'll take the "high noon" to Beijing, then pitch a tent (or pitch a fit) at the ticket counter to see if we can fly stand-by. If that fails, we'll find a cheap (yeah, right) hotel near the airport and hit the repeat button for Tuesday. If that doesn't work, another hotel and we'll catch the Wednesday flight. Which means I don't know when we'll be back in Lubbock (home of the Alamo Bowl winning Red Raiders). After we arrive in Los Angeles, we'll have to find a flight to Lubbock, which might be difficult considering all the foot ball coaches who will be making their way to Lubbock for a job interview.

There's an upside to all this--more time with the grand kids. There's also the downside--another gut-wrenching farewell. There's another upside--we're making another memory. There's also the downside--this is one memory I'd rather forget. There's another upside--more time with Judy before we both go back to work. There's also a downside--wait, there's no downside to time with Judy.

Don't know when I'll be able to blog again, but you can bet I'll have a lot to blog about. Happy New Year--hope yours' is off to a better start than mine. (But mine is a WHOLE lot better than either Mike Leach or Tiger Woods.)

Getting sad

We're going home tomorrow.

Let's analyze that statement. "We're" implies more than one, maybe a group. It means I'm not alone. That's a positive. "Going" means forward motion--again, a positive. "Home." What warmer word can you image than "be it ever so humble, there's no place like" it. "Tomorrow" indicates hope (cue Annie, "The sun will come up, tomorrow...bet your bottom dollar things will be better tomorrow"). So at face value, "we're going home tomorrow" sounds wonderful. Then why am I getting sad?

The "we're" doesn't include all my family here in China. Judy and I make up the "we." When "we" leave, we'll be leaving 4 of our precious clan behind. We arrived 2 weeks ago today and have savored our time. We've connected with our littlest one here. Trinity is so lovable and snuggle able. (When I'm holding her and begin to whisper in her ear she places her head against mine and just listens. Gotta love that as well as her head bumps, which she freely gives.) Grace is a hoot. She's so creative and fun. Her mind (and mouth)is always going and she just makes us laugh. Even though she's my grandchild, she is exceptionally smart and so much fun. Brigitte and Kevin are incredible as parents and in what they do in-country. (Just doing life in this place is a full-time job; so inconvenient, but they do it with class.)

"Going" in this case means separation. We're planning for Judy to return this summer, but I honestly don't know when I'll be with this part-of-my-heart again. (They're doing Christmas with Kevin's parents next year in Europe. Can't dwell on this thought very long or it will spoil our remaining day-and-a-half here.)

"Home" is a very positive thought. I love being with my wife of 39 years. We've not had much time together for a long time since she was involved in her radiation treatments in Houston. This will be great--reconnecting with my beloved spouse.

"Tomorrow" in this case is very near. As I write we've got about 26 hours til our tomorrow comes due.

Between now and then, we're going to squeeze all the enjoyment we can out of each moment. I've got to fill my memory bank during these next 26 hours and overdose on head bumps and Grace moments. (Why am I spending time blogging--I've got grand kids to spoil?!?!)