June 4th en route to Chengdu

It's 6:55pm and I'm lugging myself into line at the first border. It's long, but moving smoothly. I blend in among the mass of Chinese, but everyone else looks like they just went on a weekend shopping spree with H&M bags and loads of "Western" snacks bought by the bulk. I look away as a man picks his nose and rubs it on the line separators.

I exit Hong Kong.

I stand in line to enter China. I see a table in the far distance with some sort of forms. My memory reel tries to kick into full speed, back to '07. Back to when Sarah and I were crossing the same border. I've filled out so many immigration forms, this one is lost among all other.
The line is shortening at a fast pace and I'm going to have to hurry. There's a lady lingering nearby, heading a group of tourists.
"Excuse me. Do I need to fill out a form?" I gesture, in case she doesn't understand.
She looks tires as she glares at me. After a split second and a heaving sigh, she yells at me.
"I DON'T KNOW!"
It's shrill. And loud. It attracts much attention.
I turn back to face the front, as if nothing happened.
I feel a light tap on my shoulder, and it's a man clearly feeling sorry for me. He points to the forms and nods.

I step out into Shenzhen. It's so dark, the air heavy with that China smog. Rows of buses stretch down far. I just walk towards them. What else am I to do?
And out of nowhere, my mind recognizes the uniform a girl is wearing. I walk up to her and point to the sticker on my chest, the one those ladies in Hong Kong warned me repeatedly not to lose.
Bingo.
She nods, talks at a deathly fast pace, hears my sheepish apology and becomes embarrassed. Our conversation is over now and I just follow her.

The bus starts off into the smog, stretch two of my journey to Shenzhen Airport. We're on a highway and it's randomly dotted with pedestrians that look like they are trying to cross. There are at least 4 lanes of cars whizzing by.
Then we pass by a man on a bicycle that is going against traffic.
I pray they don't get taken out.

At the airport, the bus is deserted immediately because everyone is traveling so light. I struggle to situate my luggage. As I walk towards the entrance, everyone stares. To them I must look like a Chinese girl traveling alone like a runaway. I see no single women. I see no backpacks that are threatening to squish its carrier.

The girl at the check-in counter stares at the monitor as she flips through my passport. She looks confused. She yells at someone at the other counter and they call another guy over. Now all 3 of them are hunched over the computer. They don't talk to me because I had already diappointed the girl by not being able to speak Chinese. She had disappointed me by speaking almost no English regardless of the fact that we are in a rather international airport.
I pick up "KTM" in their conversation, followed by a question mark. They are wondering what the hell that is.
"I'm going to Kathmandu"
They stare at me blankly and my comment is dismissed.