Friday, August 26, 2011
NEW BLOG
This is Melissa, sorry for my poor English skills please do not judge me compared to my little sister. Hard to believe but she actually made it to China! (I know we were all skeptical, at least I was :) I love you Laura, that just shows what a great accomplishment this is.
Anyway it seems like blogger is blocked in China (that's communism for you) so she has switched to wordpress, here is the new address http://ladyoftheorient.wordpress.com/
She already has so fun pictures about a bus trip and eating a scorpion that she actually liked. We love you Laura and Henry asked me this morning if he could come visit you...I wish!
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Mishap numero uno
I've decided there is one absolute way you can blow your cover as a cool backpacker (that's what I WAS going for) and expose that you're actually a first time foreign flier.
How? Forgetting your passport at the check-in stand. Let me explain.
I had just gotten out of the car. Standing at the departures curb was yours truly, lovely Allison, glowing mother Julie and sharp father Mike. I was determined to do things the grown up way, and since I was departing for a flight I told my family to just drop me off at the departures curb. Thus, they did. We said our good-byes, we hugged and some of us cried. I won't name names, but hand to heart it was not me. I only became slightly watery-eyed when my mom said, mid embrace, "I'm proud of you!" What kid isn't gonna cry upon hearing those words from their mama?
I rushed in the airport doors! I was so excited to just check-in. What I wasn't expecting was the spooky feeling I got when I realized that I was completely alone. I realized that it might be a little while 'till I really talk to someone. Regardless, I was so excited that I walked all the way past the correct check-in counter. I knew something was strange when all I saw was Continental Counters and there were no more counters to walk past...so I turned around and realized that in my excitement I had totally walked passed the United counters, my airline. That's what adrenaline does to me, I go crazy and get a little flaky.
Here's where I really lost it. I handed the man my boarding pass and my Passport. Normal. I placed my suitcase on the scale. Normal. I saw it weigh in at 50.5 pounds. Normal. He gave me my baggage stub. Normal. I walked away. Normal. Oops! Only a mistake made by a first-time foreign traveler.
That good ol' little voice inside my head said, "Hey there! Let's just double check you've got your passport and your boarding pass before you get to security!" I said back to the voice, "You know, that's not a bad idea." I continued walking away from the check-in area, delighted with my success thus far. I reached into my money belt (which is kind-of super annoying) and was genuinely puzzled to see no passport or boarding pass. Luckily, it did not take long for me to retrace my steps. I did the quickest 180 I've ever done and busted over to the counter. The man, luckily, was already on his way to chase me and I met him back at the counter.
He gave me a look and I could hear him saying to me (like an annoyed chaperone to a traveling minor), "Passport. Boarding Pass. These are the most essential documents while traveling. We better tape 'em to your forehead so you don't do THAT again!" What he really said was, "Ma'am, we're not done here."
He returned to me my boarding pass and passport. I gave him and his coworkers at United a good laugh. Southwest employees wouldn't have laughed...but at least I helped make his day a little brighter.
I made it through security, and everything turned out fine. Thank goodness I didn't get any grief about the 500 pennies I've got stowed away.
Now I'm sitting here eavesdropping and enjoying my Jamba Juice waiting for my delayed flight to depart. Next stop: LAX.
How? Forgetting your passport at the check-in stand. Let me explain.
I had just gotten out of the car. Standing at the departures curb was yours truly, lovely Allison, glowing mother Julie and sharp father Mike. I was determined to do things the grown up way, and since I was departing for a flight I told my family to just drop me off at the departures curb. Thus, they did. We said our good-byes, we hugged and some of us cried. I won't name names, but hand to heart it was not me. I only became slightly watery-eyed when my mom said, mid embrace, "I'm proud of you!" What kid isn't gonna cry upon hearing those words from their mama?
I rushed in the airport doors! I was so excited to just check-in. What I wasn't expecting was the spooky feeling I got when I realized that I was completely alone. I realized that it might be a little while 'till I really talk to someone. Regardless, I was so excited that I walked all the way past the correct check-in counter. I knew something was strange when all I saw was Continental Counters and there were no more counters to walk past...so I turned around and realized that in my excitement I had totally walked passed the United counters, my airline. That's what adrenaline does to me, I go crazy and get a little flaky.
Here's where I really lost it. I handed the man my boarding pass and my Passport. Normal. I placed my suitcase on the scale. Normal. I saw it weigh in at 50.5 pounds. Normal. He gave me my baggage stub. Normal. I walked away. Normal. Oops! Only a mistake made by a first-time foreign traveler.
That good ol' little voice inside my head said, "Hey there! Let's just double check you've got your passport and your boarding pass before you get to security!" I said back to the voice, "You know, that's not a bad idea." I continued walking away from the check-in area, delighted with my success thus far. I reached into my money belt (which is kind-of super annoying) and was genuinely puzzled to see no passport or boarding pass. Luckily, it did not take long for me to retrace my steps. I did the quickest 180 I've ever done and busted over to the counter. The man, luckily, was already on his way to chase me and I met him back at the counter.
He gave me a look and I could hear him saying to me (like an annoyed chaperone to a traveling minor), "Passport. Boarding Pass. These are the most essential documents while traveling. We better tape 'em to your forehead so you don't do THAT again!" What he really said was, "Ma'am, we're not done here."
He returned to me my boarding pass and passport. I gave him and his coworkers at United a good laugh. Southwest employees wouldn't have laughed...but at least I helped make his day a little brighter.
I made it through security, and everything turned out fine. Thank goodness I didn't get any grief about the 500 pennies I've got stowed away.
Now I'm sitting here eavesdropping and enjoying my Jamba Juice waiting for my delayed flight to depart. Next stop: LAX.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Lost will happen
Being lost can happen so many different ways.
For instance, I know all too well the feeling of being physically lost. Before my GPS, even with my GPS, I got right and left turns confused and forget the order of the exits on I-25. I might convince myself that I live north of Denver when I truly live south or that the Idaho mountains are to the west. This is because during Drivers Ed, I remember countless times being told, "The mountains will always be west!" Don't be fooled.
A person might lose sight of their life path, and consider themselves lost. For whatever reason, the direction is no longer clear they should take; the fog won't lift and the sun won't shine. This is simply a natural feeling that seems to be a prerequisite for all of us to complete before our 30th birthday; just in time for a mid-life crisis, following 10 or so years later.
So, what exactly occurs when a person is lost directionally and emotionally? Laura in China. That's what happens.
I don't think the Rocky Mountains sit in plain sight in China, like they do in Denver. I doubt I will have my bearings in China. Ever. I imagine there will be a constant haze of pollution and people. I also foresee a lack of white courtesy telephones; these are the lifelines that many a lost passengers and children (Brown family children, more specifically) rely on to reconnect with their loved ones at Denver International Airport. These things I know will get me back home won't be in China.
I know I'll get lost. I should probably accept that I will get lost at LAX before I even arrive in China. That will happen too.
But really, I'm cautiously excited about getting lost. I want to jump on the subway car and go wherever the car goes without knowing my final destination, just to freak myself out. I might only go one stop...but I still want to do it. There will be plenty of strange markets and beaten paths to venture down. I'll find a gate that's locked. If there's no guard, I'll jump it and see what's behind it. (No, I really won't. Chinese guards scare me.) The train terminal will probably be as big as the campus of BYU-Idaho; I'll navigate it somehow and come to love it.
For if we never lose ourselves, how will we ever find ourselves? It is this principle that drives me to the excitement of being lost in China. I will get lost like never before; it's not like I'll have to try to get lost. I'll be good at it, I already am. My senses will be so overloaded with things I have never seen, smelt, heard or touched before that I'll feel lost just sleeping in my bed at night. My Chinese bed.
The next time I ask myself why I've decided on China, I will remind myself that I'm going to get lost. Lost from the self I've accustomed to a one track lifestyle of living in a give-me-everything mindset; lost from toxic people (one passive aggressive/immature stick-it-to-the-man comment from yours truly!) and Katy Perry. Simply to be lost from it all and find myself in a place I'll be experiencing with fresh eyes and an open mind. To China.
*********Disclaimer: This is a really cheesy post. But, let's face it, if I'm going to be writing an honest blog while in China for four months, expect extra cheese.
For instance, I know all too well the feeling of being physically lost. Before my GPS, even with my GPS, I got right and left turns confused and forget the order of the exits on I-25. I might convince myself that I live north of Denver when I truly live south or that the Idaho mountains are to the west. This is because during Drivers Ed, I remember countless times being told, "The mountains will always be west!" Don't be fooled.
A person might lose sight of their life path, and consider themselves lost. For whatever reason, the direction is no longer clear they should take; the fog won't lift and the sun won't shine. This is simply a natural feeling that seems to be a prerequisite for all of us to complete before our 30th birthday; just in time for a mid-life crisis, following 10 or so years later.
So, what exactly occurs when a person is lost directionally and emotionally? Laura in China. That's what happens.
I don't think the Rocky Mountains sit in plain sight in China, like they do in Denver. I doubt I will have my bearings in China. Ever. I imagine there will be a constant haze of pollution and people. I also foresee a lack of white courtesy telephones; these are the lifelines that many a lost passengers and children (Brown family children, more specifically) rely on to reconnect with their loved ones at Denver International Airport. These things I know will get me back home won't be in China.
I know I'll get lost. I should probably accept that I will get lost at LAX before I even arrive in China. That will happen too.
But really, I'm cautiously excited about getting lost. I want to jump on the subway car and go wherever the car goes without knowing my final destination, just to freak myself out. I might only go one stop...but I still want to do it. There will be plenty of strange markets and beaten paths to venture down. I'll find a gate that's locked. If there's no guard, I'll jump it and see what's behind it. (No, I really won't. Chinese guards scare me.) The train terminal will probably be as big as the campus of BYU-Idaho; I'll navigate it somehow and come to love it.
For if we never lose ourselves, how will we ever find ourselves? It is this principle that drives me to the excitement of being lost in China. I will get lost like never before; it's not like I'll have to try to get lost. I'll be good at it, I already am. My senses will be so overloaded with things I have never seen, smelt, heard or touched before that I'll feel lost just sleeping in my bed at night. My Chinese bed.
The next time I ask myself why I've decided on China, I will remind myself that I'm going to get lost. Lost from the self I've accustomed to a one track lifestyle of living in a give-me-everything mindset; lost from toxic people (one passive aggressive/immature stick-it-to-the-man comment from yours truly!) and Katy Perry. Simply to be lost from it all and find myself in a place I'll be experiencing with fresh eyes and an open mind. To China.
*********Disclaimer: This is a really cheesy post. But, let's face it, if I'm going to be writing an honest blog while in China for four months, expect extra cheese.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Suitcase Pickings
Here's the thing. I leave for China on Saturday around 7:00pm. What is the biggest obstacle that stands before me currently, on my to-do list? I can't pick out a suitcase.
I just took the 50 or so steps into my garage. I flipped on the switch, and made my way through the antique maze. Turning ever so carefully around each tight corner and past the fridge (I grabbed a Diet Root Beer to calm my nerves, but I should have gone for a Coke), I arrived in the narrow corridor of stuff. Surrounded by skyscraper shelves from Costco, I looked up towards the harsh lighting.
Above me were about 8 luggage options. I stood with my hands at my hips and a contemplative/cautiously excited/nervous/anxious/awkward scowl on my face. Something like the face Obama might make when deciding which pen to use first while signing a new bill. Too many options, that differ so slightly to not make a difference, ushers a load of confusion on a person. While my decision does not have national implications and was not being televised, I was equally daunted by the task at hand. Picking out a suitcase is the number one priority on my list of domestic policy tasks.
Sip after sip of Diet Root Beer, I continued staring.
I considered several factors. Which is least likely to look foreign? This lead me to deciding that I should definitely not carry a Samsonite. Everyone in America uses a Samsonite. And, I probably should avoid anything in a red, white and blue color scheme. Not a good idea. It would also be bad to choose Louis Vuitton luggage. Bound to be stolen.
Considering the fact that I don't own Samsonite, patriotic or Louis Vuitton luggage, I was not helping myself. I was still left with 8 options and had not figured how to decide between them.
That's when I decided to do what I always do when I can't make up my mind. Surely, it's the best option. I let fate decide. I simply pointed my finger in the air and went through two rounds of the most politically correct version of "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe" I know. Two rounds because I can't trust a decision this important to only one round. Politically correct because then things are always in my favor. I ended that "moe" with such a burst of energy and assurance!
Decision made. Simple as that. I felt, and still do, feel quite proud of myself. This is a fine example of a true adult making adult decisions using clear logic and reasoning, right? Ok, so this might not be the best way to decide which Subway car to jump on or which street vendor to buy a chicken foot from. Regardless, I used it at a crucial time when I didn't have 525,600 minutes to bounce my thinking between the pros/cons lists of 8 individual suitcases. Besides, that would require one too many cases of Diet Root Beer that I don't have.
Recognizing that I should put my energy into more weighty matters, than picking out a suitcase, is adult enough for this life teaching moment. Never, I repeat NEVER underestimate the assuring power of "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe." I'm off to get packing.
I just took the 50 or so steps into my garage. I flipped on the switch, and made my way through the antique maze. Turning ever so carefully around each tight corner and past the fridge (I grabbed a Diet Root Beer to calm my nerves, but I should have gone for a Coke), I arrived in the narrow corridor of stuff. Surrounded by skyscraper shelves from Costco, I looked up towards the harsh lighting.
Above me were about 8 luggage options. I stood with my hands at my hips and a contemplative/cautiously excited/nervous/anxious/awkward scowl on my face. Something like the face Obama might make when deciding which pen to use first while signing a new bill. Too many options, that differ so slightly to not make a difference, ushers a load of confusion on a person. While my decision does not have national implications and was not being televised, I was equally daunted by the task at hand. Picking out a suitcase is the number one priority on my list of domestic policy tasks.
Sip after sip of Diet Root Beer, I continued staring.
I considered several factors. Which is least likely to look foreign? This lead me to deciding that I should definitely not carry a Samsonite. Everyone in America uses a Samsonite. And, I probably should avoid anything in a red, white and blue color scheme. Not a good idea. It would also be bad to choose Louis Vuitton luggage. Bound to be stolen.
Considering the fact that I don't own Samsonite, patriotic or Louis Vuitton luggage, I was not helping myself. I was still left with 8 options and had not figured how to decide between them.
That's when I decided to do what I always do when I can't make up my mind. Surely, it's the best option. I let fate decide. I simply pointed my finger in the air and went through two rounds of the most politically correct version of "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe" I know. Two rounds because I can't trust a decision this important to only one round. Politically correct because then things are always in my favor. I ended that "moe" with such a burst of energy and assurance!
Decision made. Simple as that. I felt, and still do, feel quite proud of myself. This is a fine example of a true adult making adult decisions using clear logic and reasoning, right? Ok, so this might not be the best way to decide which Subway car to jump on or which street vendor to buy a chicken foot from. Regardless, I used it at a crucial time when I didn't have 525,600 minutes to bounce my thinking between the pros/cons lists of 8 individual suitcases. Besides, that would require one too many cases of Diet Root Beer that I don't have.
Recognizing that I should put my energy into more weighty matters, than picking out a suitcase, is adult enough for this life teaching moment. Never, I repeat NEVER underestimate the assuring power of "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe." I'm off to get packing.
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