Back in
Sydney, I bought a book called “When China Rules the World” by Martin Jacques.
Five months later, sitting on the bus to Guangzhou, I was still slogging
through it. Beyond my very limited personal experiences, this book covered the
entirety of my knowledge of China. It’s expertly written: detailed, comprehensive,
and dauntingly long.
As I sat in
Baiyun Airport, mulling over what I had read, I realized what would become the
most difficult part in retelling my story. I became convinced that within my
lifetime, China would claim the authoritative lead now held by the United
States. As it stands, much of the West rejects this out of hand, but there in
the airport, I thought about how my life might fit this new world. I was
motivated to learn international policy and foreign investment. I can adapt,
right? At the same time, I was also intimidated enough to wonder if I could hole
up in some rural Canadian town for the rest of my life. With my plane being
delayed due to “weather conditions,” I had plenty of time to think.
***
Finally
arriving in Beijing at 3 a.m., I looked around for a sign with my name. I had
asked the hostel to pick me up, but no one seemed to be there for me. I called the
hostel and was told that the driver didn’t wait because of the flight delay.
Wasn’t the point of asking for my flight information to keep an eye on schedule
changes? I was out of luck and had to fend for myself.
Taxi drivers
stood on the medium outside of Arrivals and many of them jumped at the chance
to drive me. I was planning to pay 260 yuan for the hostel driver to take me after
midnight – overpriced I knew, but safe. Well, it was a price point. I started
to follow one driver who offered a flat rate of 200 yuan. He walked to the
left, away from the other parked taxis and into the darkness. I waved my hands
in dismissal and turned my suitcase around. I walked back to the group of taxi
drivers, again, all fighting for my business, but offering the same price of
200 yuan. Another driver started to lead me off to the right – same deal. I
wasn’t going to risk disappearing into the night for a price that would
undoubtedly change. I turned back and tried talking to a parked cabbie. He had
a meter and that’s all I cared for.
The driver
agreed to take me, though when he pulled off to the side of the road, already
far away from the airport, I realized he still didn’t know exactly where he was
going. I risked giving him my phone with the address and after a long stare, he
started driving again. The hostel was 40 minutes away; that I knew. So, I had
at least that long before I could officially start panicking. I tried to follow
the signs, but it was useless. I had to hope for the best.
The drive
seemed to be going well. The buildings around us seemed to be getting denser,
so I could at least assume I was nearing the city centre. It wasn’t until the
taxi turned down a small, dark alleyway that my senses heightened again. I
could tell that the road was very narrow – barely enough room for one car – but
nothing else besides. I tried to think about what I could do if this went sour,
but what? If he decided to pull down some random back alley, asked me to get
out by gunpoint, and drove off with my suitcase still in his trunk, what choice
did I have? I’d be stranded without my things, in a city where the language
wasn’t based off of Latin in any way. It barely crossed my mind that my hostel
would be down the alley... which it was. The meter read 125 yuan – over 50%
off! And he didn’t even change the price!
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