China, Part 1: "Call Your Wife"

Going to China takes a bit of preparation. You have to get a visa, which is no small task. It is also recommended that you get certain inoculations, which we did at the local pharmacy. In our case, we also booked a hotel room at the Holiday Inn Express near LAX, because the flight to China takes 12 hours, and we did not want to fly to LA and then fly 12 more hours without rest.

So the Friday before Thanksgiving, we left the boys in charge of the house and headed for the airport. The flight was no problem, and we called our hotel from LAX and waited for the courtesy bus. When the bus arrived, the driver asked us to leave our bags at the back rather than take them on the bus with us, and he loaded them in the back. We drove to the hotel, through some bad LA traffic. When we got to the hotel, the driver unloaded our two bags. Trouble was, we had three bags. Jackie and I both stuck our heads in the back of the van to be sure, but our carry-on was not there.

The best we could guess was that the driver failed to load the third bag into the van. So now what? I headed back to the airport with the driver to find the bag, while Jackie checked into the room. All I could think was that my passport was in that bag, as well as all of our medicines and my CPAP machine. If we can't find that bag, we aren't going to China. I was pretty much in shock all the way back to the airport, and traffic getting into the airport was worse than getting out had been, so for 20 minutes I sat there wondering if our trip was already trashed. As we got close to the terminal, traffic was heavy enough that I got out of the bus and walked ahead to find the bag. And thankfully, there it was. Some fine person had grabbed it and set it up against a pillar.

I grab the bag and turn around to find the bus. "Sir!" "Sir!" "Is that your bag sir?" I look behind me, across a couple of lanes to the sidewalk in front of the terminal, and there are three airport security guards and a cop. Turns out one of them is the fine person who noticed the bag, and they have been watching it and now want to talk to me. Fortunately their main concern is making sure it's my bag, and since my passport is in it, it doesn't take long to convince them. They make fun of me a bit (except the cop, who is very serious) and tell me to keep an eye on my bag. By the time I am allowed to take my bag and go, the bus is waiting for me. I get on and sink back into the seat, so relieved. The bus driver says, "Call your wife." Good idea.

It turns out that Jackie had lost her driver's license somewhere in Seatac airport, but she had her passport with her, and that is good enough identification anywhere you go. The biggest bit of drama for the trip was behind us at that point, and the next day I took a picture of our plane while we were waiting to board. Next stop, Beijing.