A Short Letter Home

I'll fly away

We took a trip out to the airport last Saturday. No, we didn't grab a flight to anywhere. We just went to the airport. You see, there's this freshman student named Jack who's become one of our "teacher's pets". (I know, teachers are supposed to be fair and even handed and all that. Well, when it comes to teaching, Yau Neih is all that. But there are certain students with whom you tend to develop a bit of a friendship.) He's a bold kid, and from the start of the year he's made it a point to talk with us. That chutzpah was evident the other week when he said that he wanted to go to the airport with us the next time we went. He had never seen an airport before and wanted to check it out. (No doubt in preparation for the time when he becomes a successful entrepreneur and starts accumulating frequent flyer miles.) I chuckled and said that we might arrange something. I didn't muse too much on the idea until a few days later when he asked me if we were going to the airport that coming weekend. It then became obvious that he was dead serious, so I told him that I would definitely take him to the airport one day soon. In truth, I had warmed to the idea myself. It brought back memories of my childhood when we had pulled to the shoulder along Irving Park Road and watched the planes come in for a landing at O'Hare field.

Anyway, I finally picked last Saturday as the date to make a field trip to the airport. I checked it out with Jack and he was agreeable. It promised to be a nice, relaxed Saturday outing. Of course, this is China, where situations have a tendency to change. About the same time I was making plans with Jack, one of the classes on campus was inviting us to come along on a class picnic. Since we usually hike on Saturday morning, it wasn't a big problem. We would probably be out longer than normal, but if we watched the clock, we could easily get back to town in time to catch the 3 o'clock airport bus. Then, on Thursday, came another complication. There's a group of Americans doing agricultural development work outside of town. They invited us to come out to the farm on Saturday evening for one of their regular dinner parties. Logistically, it could fit in with our plans. The farm is only four kilometers from the airport, so we could simply watch the afternoon plane arrive and then walk over to the party. The question was, do we just dump Jack on the bus back to town, or do we try and finagle an invitation for him as well? We chose the latter, naturally, and the folks at the farm we quite agreeable to him coming. The schedule was a busy one, but quite workable.

So Saturday came and the morning went just as planned. We got home in plenty of time to change our clothes and pack up some cookies to take to the party. About twenty after two we called Jack and asked if he was ready. We also asked him if he wanted to come along to the party. Surprisingly, he declined the party idea, but said he was coming over to our building to meet up with us. As we headed downstairs, we decided that we'd ask him again and make sure he wasn't just being overly polite. Soon Jack arrived and asked if it was okay if he "brought some girls" along. It was a bit of a surprise, but I supposed adding a couple of friends could hurt too much. (I had been planning to pick up the bus fare, of course, but even though the outing had expanded from me and Jack to me, the whole family, Jack and Jack's friends, it was still within budget.) Jack ran off toward the dorms, to hurry his friends along.

A couple of minutes later I could see Jack heading back towards us along the landscaped walkway. I could see a couple of umbrellas following him. The funny thing was, it looked like quite a number of umbrellas following him, but of course, that was probably just a few girls walking in the same direction as him. Jack quickly reached us and introduced us to his sister. And her friends. All seven of her friends. Yau Neih greeted them all while I was busy doing math in my head. Eight girls, one Jack, four lao wai that's thirteen people at 8 kuai a head... yeah, I think I could afford bus fare for everyone. I decided that I would wait for them to ask, though, before offering to pay. So off we all went on our grand adventure.

The trip itself turned out to be quite amusing. We reached the bank from where the bus departs. All thirteen of us piled aboard, pretty much taking up the extra seats. Two guys actually got on after us and then turned around and hailed a cab. I felt a bit guilty, though I would have gladly offered them my seat if given the chance. When we arrived at the airport, I tried to give the students the nickel tour. Of course, all of the girls were math majors and most of them didn't speak much English. Jack wasn't really interested in the airport itself. He just wanted to see the plane and take pictures. The students scouted around a bit and decided to snap a picture with the family in front of a banyan tree at the edge of the parking lot. Yau Neih and the girls then elected to rest in the shade, having been sapped by the sweltering bus. I stuck with the students as we headed out the gate to the sign out front. They decided this was a prime photo location and started taking everyone's picture, both individually and with the lao wai. (I'm starting to marvel just how many people are going to have my ugly mug in their photo albums by the time I leave here. I wish I could hear them try to explain it to their kids years down the road.)

After we exhausted the photographic potential of the sign, we headed further down the hill to some big sculpture set amidst some small trees in front of the airport. As the kids started snapping more pictures, it struck me that it was very Western--some fancy landscaping designed to be admired from a distance. The status quo here seems to be that any swath of greenery becomes a mini-park. As I was musing on how I preferred the Yunnan way, we heard the sound of jet engines. I had been keeping an eye to the north, the direction from which the plane usually comes. Of course, the wind was blowing from the north, so the plane naturally approached from the south. I don't know what I was thinking. The kids immediately cancelled the photo session and hustled back to the terminal.

I have a sneaking hunch that Jack, at least, was expecting to be able to get his photo taken right next to the plane. Of course, even in laid back Yunnan, one doesn't get that close without a ticket. Fortunately, the plane was parked only a hundred yards from the security fence, so the kids at least got a bit of a photo-op. Once again everybody got their picture taken, both individually and as a group.

By this time, we had to get going. I was again afflicted with feelings of guilt, this time by abandoning my young charges so I could head off to the party. (Jack definitely had not been interested in coming with us. I mean, if you had to choose between hanging with your teacher or with seven members of the opposite sex, which would you choose?) Like a worried mother, I warned them not to miss the bus and then we headed off down the highway. It was a pleasant, downhill walk and an even more enjoyable party. I felt like collapsing when I got home, of course, but it was definitely worth the effort.

posted by John @ 8:46 AM