Until today, I was terrified of jet lag. I thought it would ruin my life. But, as it turns out, it’s not so bad. Before I left home, I set my watch to Shenyang time. Shenyang is thirteen hours ahead of Atlanta. So, as I was showering and dressing for my midnight flight, I pretended that I was showering and dressing for the day. I ate breakfast for dinner and forced myself to stay awake until it was bedtime in China. As many other passengers on the flight dozed off, I graded papers and listened to dance-y Janelle Monáe on my iPod. It wasn’t fun, but I did it. Once it was 9:00PM in Shenyang, I hit the sack. I wore my fancy eye mask and pink earplugs and slept on and off for about three hours. Then, the flight attendant woke me for breakfast. I put the muffin and yougurt into my bag to eat later and went back to sleep. When I woke up, it was almost time to land! I was tired yesterday, but I didn’t need a nap, and I didn’t cry.
My flights were both completely uneventful: nothing was delayed, security was a breeze, and my chair was pretty comfy. I flew with Korean Air. The flight attendants all wore these jaunty, turquoise uniforms with stiff bows in their hair. They bowed in unison before the safety demonstration, and at lunch they served us bean curd with “oriental” sauce, a savory bun, and sticky rice cakes. Yum! All in all, I’d say that I’m very well fed and well rested.
The scariest part of the process was going through Chinese customs. All that I know of this process comes from what I have seen in movies, so I was expecting to stand in a long line, fill out some sort of a form, have my suitcase inspected, and be questioned by an officer of some sort. Because I am a total slacker, I have not learned to say more than “hi” and “goodbye” in Chinese; therefore, the thought of having to explain what I’d brought in my carry on actually made me quake with fear as I de-boarded the plane in Shenyang. What if I couldn’t answer? What if I said something wrong? I didn’t know where to go or what to do, and I just followed the crowd. There wasn't exactly a line; it was a mass of people who eventually found their ways to five huge counters at the front of the room. I tried to take cues from the more savvy-looking travelers around me. When it was my turn, I handed my passport and document to the immigration officer. He spoke English and didn’t ask me any questions. He waved me through to a baggage carousel where I immediately found my suitcase. Following the crowd again, I got to an area where my bag was x-rayed again. It really wasn’t so bad.
Lilly, the teacher who invited me, met me right at the airport with the bus driver from her school. He drove us into the most developed part of Shenyang and showed me where the school was. Then we met up with Vicky, who is my host, and she drove me to her apartment. I settled in for a bit, and then we were off again on another adventure. Foreigners who travel to China, but don’t stay in hotels, are required to register their trips with the local police. Several people recommended that I not bother, but being a good follower of rules, I insisted. When we got to the police station, I was asked to give my passport and wait, and wait, and wait. I’m so grateful Vicky was there with me to act as an interpreter.
