Adventure’s Beginnings

I wiggled my looming backpack, adjusting and tightening the hip buckles. I had never packed like this before. Precisely calculated clothes were piled, then rolled, and squashed in all possible angles into the rucksack.

“Here take it with you, just in-case... it’s not heavy,” said my kind and very insistent landlord.

Why would I want to carry a water purifier gadget on my back for the next three weeks was beyond me? I was raised in West Bengal where roadside opaque nimbupani (lemonade) and tangy juicy puchkas (pani-puri ) were everyday essentials. So in all fairness I actually held that a sprinkle of bacteria here and there was rather quite delicious!

Puchkas

However, here I was contemplating on refusing this over-enthusiastic little man that had done so much for me in my time living in the intense city of Hong Kong.
So choking down the “No thank you, I’ll pass” that was itching to spill off my lips, I grinned awkwardly and graciously served an “Errrrm…Thanks?” instead.

He smiled wider, clearly pleased, ferociously scribbling last minute changes on the Mandarin translation cards he was making for me.

“Little sacrifices, little sacrifices,” I mumbled silently, almost trying to convince my self that it was all towards the greater good (and yes in-case you were wondering, dramatics is my God-gifted talent).
All was packed. I was ready.

In my case, procrastination was definitely NOT genetic; but nonetheless, I have been cursed with the habit. So bow to me if you’d like, for I am the self-proclaimed Queen of Procrastination. As if to mock me, here was Hong Kong - crisp and precise. People stood in lines without pushing and were always on time. At first I suffered a minute case of culture shock, but soon enough adapted like a dutiful human being; that is to the lines and expected decorum, but strangely never to punctuality!

There was literally five minutes for my over night train to Beijing, and I was still sitting clumsily in a red cab, luggage strapped and my jittery legs ready to leap and run the minute we arrived. However that minute took many more minutes to come.

I raced, and puffed and dragged my body, flustered, frustrated, and slightly swearing at myself for lingering on that extra 30 minutes on the Central Island.  I felt like pushing innocent travelers who were walking at a sane pace, totally envying the extra, sweet time they were obviously relishing. 

“Beijing train, train Beijing” I shouted, bursting dramatically through the station doors, shooting crazy eyes and desperate pleas to anyone that would listen…of course no one did. It was much easier to ignore the crazed, sweat patched laowai (quasi-derogatory term for a uncivilized foreigner) than pay her any attention at all.

 “Great! JUST GREAT!” I yelled aiming my tiring irritation at anyone, and everyone that heard me. I had missed my train, and was in that dangerous territory of possibly attracting the wrong kind of attention if I didn’t shut up. So with recognition of my fast vanishing determination to avoid a temper tantrum, I graciously, though more hastily, decided to take my walk of defeat a little further ahead.

A long, winding line snaked around the opposite end of the station, as security nonchalantly checked passports for essential stamps. My anger had faded fast, and now I was wallowing in self-pity. I must have looked quite the mess, as Chinese tourists giggled at my frowning face. I looked down and saw a smudge of dirt on my legs. Too dejected to give a damn, I rolled my eyes at their apparent childishness, urgently pushing my million loose strands into the messy bun plopped on the top of my head. “Who cares anyways…” was my train of thought at that precise moment.

A gentle tap made me jump, bag and all, causing quite the thump as I landed.

“Beijing? Beijing Train?” the woman asked as I attempted to collect my shattered wits once again.

“Huh?” I said, utterly confused at what was happening. Was she mocking me? Or did she miss her train too? I honestly, and seriously did NOT care too much to tell you the truth. She definitely was the wiry, insistent type…a female Bruce Lee…I had to giggle mentally.  

I took a deep breath. I had to snap out of my self-absorbed trance to make sense of what was going on.

“This is the train to Beijing. You Beijing no?” she said pointing to the twisted queue.

“Oh my God! My train!” I shrieked, grabbing the stunned woman into a forced hug. 

She nodded dazed but polite. I beamed a thousand watts, almost skipping and tripping in delight. Apparently the train had got delayed much to my joy.

My grin now most definitely chocolaty still hadn't faded. Bored with waiting, I nibbled on my foil wrapped brownies meant for the journey (I have always been bad with moderation). The immigration eyed me warily as I smiled away to glory, (in retrospect it probably had something to do with my overwhelming happiness paired with half a tray of packed brownies) but I didn't care, I was finally off to Beijing!