It's 5:20pm and I'm looking nervously at the traffic and my watch. I know we're just around the corner from the place where the coach to Shenzhen Airport will leave from.
Alex and I had hugged good bye over an hour earlier as she left for the dorm room she will be calling home for the next 2 months. When we meet again, words and thoughts will be in much abundance. Now I am on my way to what this summer is really all about.
The driver says something to me. It's been a while since I have been in a place where I haven't the faintest clue what people are saying. All I see is his left hand flailing around and my eye and brain only follow the ridiculously long fingernail on his pinky.
I say "Shenzhen Airport. Bus." and I repeat, emphasizing "Shenzhen" in several versions of my made-up Chinese accent with the hopes of getting something accomplished. The bellhop at the hotel had told the driver where I needed to go, so he must know. Right?
He speaks some more. The pace of his speech intensifying. I continue to expect some sort of clue from his fingernail. It's now 5:27 and I know for a fact that there is a coach leaving in 3 minutes.
All of the suden, he rolls down the window and yells. Uniformed ladies yank open the door and one slaps a sticker on me as the other rushes to a nearby ticket booth. I attempt to hoist my huge hiking bag on my back without falling over. It's the size and weight of a young child. I don't know if I'm supposed to be rushing - I had yet to learn if Hong Kong was a punctual place. The swarm of people traffic tripping over me in the crowded intersection doesn't help.
The uniformed ladies eye me warily as a struggle.
"You have to carry bag!! Border!!"
My only concern at this point is to get on this bus. I just laugh weakly as I battle a mental image of myself sinking into the ground on the border, weighed down by my massive bags.
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