The Longest First Night in China: Part 1. Rough Landing

The plane touched down, and I leapt up, the first to grab my bags and dart for the exit. After waiting an eternity for the plane doors to open, I stepped out into the airport, which at 7:00pm was thronging with travelers. Finally, Hong Kong!

In all of my previous 22 years, I had spent a grand total of only four weeks beyond the borders of my native USA, and four years outside my native state of Florida. As a young man with no obligations to chain me down and no burning desire to begin the slow plodding up a corporate ladder, I had been eager to strike out on my own, seeking new friends and new foods in foreign lands. So I studied Chinese during my senior year of college and found a job teaching English in the Baoan district of Shenzhen, the fastest growing city in the fastest growing country in the world. Exactly twenty-four hours ago, I had boarded a flight in Florida on the first of three flights that now landed me in Hong Kong.

I had split those last twenty-four hours alternately sitting in an airport waiting for the next flight and sitting on a flight waiting for the next airport. On the final leg of my trip, from California to Hong Kong, I stayed awake for all sixteen hours of the flight to fully indulge in the airline’s endless supply of snacks, meals, desserts, drinks, and personal television sets with forty channels of constantly recycling movies. By the time I reached Hong Kong, my back was sore and my legs stiff, but I felt alive as never before and ready for whatever this new country could throw at me. Or so I thought.

The first thing I did after landing in Hong Kong was the same thing I’ve done countless times since then: I got lost. My contact at the school where I would be teaching had instructed me to take the ferry from Hong Kong to Shenzhen. Easy enough, right? Of course, there are two ferries to Shenzhen: one to Shekou, the other to Fuyong. I had been proud of myself for remembering to take the ferry. I hadn’t bothered remembering the name of the destination. I didn’t have a working cell phone or any Chinese currency, and there didn’t seem to be a public phone anyway. With no way of contacting my employer, I gambled and took the ferry to Fuyong.

Two seconds.

That’s how long it took after disembarking at Fuyong to realize I had gambled wrong. Two seconds was all the time necessary to scan the reception area: a poorly-lit parking lot with only a few taxis and a handful of waiting people to lend it life. The school had assured me that someone would be waiting to pick me up with a sign bearing my name. There was no sign with my name on it. There was no sign with any name on it. No sign at all.

Everyone who had been waiting for someone quickly found them and zipped away. Fortunately, the one vehicle left in the dust stirred up by the other fleeing cars was a free shuttle to the Shenzhen International Airport. There, I hoped, I would be able to exchange money and use a public phone to contact someone from the school.

At the Shenzhen Airport however, my prospects for making contact with someone from the school looked only slightly less bleak. The cavernous airport seemed nearly deserted. Summoning my courage, I approached an attendant at an information booth and tried out my rudimentary Chinese.

“I need to exchange currency,” I told her in Chinese.

“Of course,” she responded with a broad smile. Success! She had understood me! All those long hours of painstaking study were finally paying off in a situation when I needed it most. My teachers would be so proud! I couldn’t wait to tell my parents.

“But all the banks are closed now,” she continued. “You will have to do it tomorrow.” Her smile never lost an ounce of warmth.

I thanked her and walked away. “Well, it could be worse,” I tried to console myself. “At least I can understand that I’m in trouble.”

No Chinese currency, no way to call my contact, no idea where my school was located, and no idea what to do next. I had taken on a new country and been soundly defeated in record time. I paced back and forth inside the airport (as much as anyone can really pace while lugging a 120-lb suitcase behind him), marveling at my ability to get completely lost within twenty minutes of landing in China.