Trip to Guiyang-----Arrival
I know this is a bit too long for some of you---and a little boring perhaps, but
I hope that young visitors here will keep reading this series till its very end
, because it contains something I humbly believe worth being thought over by people at a young age, especially when you are a teenager.
Best to you all, Jenny
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Today was January 11, 2008, and I was sitting in a car with my parents and the driver. Too anxious last night about getting up late for the flight the next day
, I found it very difficult to close both my eyes and my mind. It was either that my mind slipped out of my control and asked my eyes to stay awake or that my
eyes were disobeying my mind's instruction. I can't tell which, but having slept only for one or two hours and semi-darkness outside the window made me so dull
and drowsy all the way to the Airport that it seemed to have taken only a few minutes before my parents got off and pulled me out. It was not until the three
of us stepped into the warm and brightly-lit hall, my mom and I went through the
security, and we stood in line to board the plane, that I became fully awake, realizing for the first time in months that I was about to leave for Guiyang, capital of Guizhou...again.
This would be my third time to fly to that city with my mother. The previous two times I was in my late teens, and now I've grown into the early twenties. A lot of things came to my understanding during those years. But my excitement over flying in the bright pale sky remained about the same as the one a small kid got when she was granted a sundae on a hot summer holiday. Before the exciting moment came, however, there was a long passenger line ahead of us, accompanied by
a light snowfall at a temperature well below -9 degrees Celsius. Against a pallid morning sky and a thin cover of grayish snow stood a large mental bird, linked with a colorful line of creatures climbing into its belly. It would have made quite an enjoyable sight had it not been for the fact that we were in clothing
only appropriate for the South!
In what seemed like an hour we finally got "eaten" by that giant bird. Half an
hour later it took off, and my new adventure began!
Carryon in the rack and seat belt fastened, it felt like I was gone back to the
first time we traveled to that city, where I first truly experienced "blood is thicker than water," a popular four-character Chinese phrase that describes the familial bond one has with his/her parents and siblings. I do not have any sibling, but my mother has, and Guiyang is a place that constantly calls forth such bond inside her, who lives thousands of miles away in Xinjiang.
For complicated historical, political, and personal reasons, Mother left her parents and siblings for work in this far western region when she was just a teenager. She joined her aunt's family and started her new life here. Some years later she met my father, and one year after that, she had me. The dream of visiting her parents thus remained just a dream until five years later, when she had a
short and hurried trip to Guizhou. By that time, as her only daughter, I was seriously ill in Beijing and in Father's intensive care. I've never left my mother or father for more than a few hours, but I can imagine that after five years of being away from her parents, a week of reunion to Mother must have fleeted like a minute before Mother said goodbye to her beloved ones. She would have no idea, however, that this goodbye meant 12 years of waiting to see them again.
Time is an interesting thing. It may run faster than you think when something dreadful is expected to happen, but at a wishful prospect or in difficulties, it
may get slow down to such an extent that you suspect it has stopped. 12 years to me seems very short now under great parental care as I've happily lived a quarter of my life based on a presumption that I will live up to 100 years old. But
in retrospect, to a young woman who had to take care of her seemingly helpless
child and to her parents who knew their own child was having a difficult life in
a faraway city, 12 years looks even longer than the Yangtze River.
Great changes took place in these years. China had opened its welcoming arms to
foreign investment. With the rising economy, Grandparents, whom I'd never seen
, moved to the capital of Guizhou and settled in a small apartment downtown bought by their son. Telecommunication also became easily and cheaply accessible. Gradually disappearing were those days when my parents only earned and saved for
food and other daily expenses. Air travels were no longer a myth to affluent families. What was more important than any of these wonderful social and familial
transformations was that my health, after my parents' tenacious efforts and sacrifices, had been improved a lot.
May 3, 2001 was an unforgettable day. "Plane in the sky; please come down to take us away," which was a children's rhyme Mother chanted every time we saw a plane passing by, now finally became true for the first time in our lives as Mother
and I were warmly greeted by those smiling "air angels". How excited I was when
this huge bird started to roar into the sky! Eyes closed, I was practically trembling all over. I have to admit, though, that it was not just excitement that
made me tremble. As the bird was gaining speed, I sat there with my back tightly clinging to the seat and all I thought was "What if this thing crushed and fell to the ground?" But fortunately, it didn't, and some hours later, before I could give it a thorough thought, I fell to what seemed to be many arms and heads
. I saw Mother crying, and as if in slow motion, opening her arms wide and hugging an old couple who was also crying over Mother's shoulders. Besides tears, there were other new faces looking at me, and I was scared out of my wits.
I came back from my reminiscence as the seat began to shake and the engine roared. Neither of us was arranged to seat by the window this time, but over a nice-
looking young lady I clearly saw the tiny snowflakes become running lines of snowy white against a blurred background of gray. The plane gathered speed; snowy
lines ran faster along it, getting violent by millisecond as they hit the wing so hard that the aircraft would have screamed in agony had it developed animal senses. The next minute those lines melted into a world of cottony cream, and a few minutes later, after some ups and downs, rays of sunshine blazed in. That lady then shut up the window.
A patch of the blue sky still lingered before my eyes. I closed them, and the blue was transformed into an array of colors. Rainbows, I thought, will I catch
a glimpse of a "rainbow in the air" again, like the one I saw last time? I wondered. That was four years ago in October 2004, when Mother and I flew to Guiyang for the second time. On the flight to our destination, something miraculous happened. In a distance I saw what seemed like a colorful ring, materialized as
vapor, hanging over the dark clouds. At its very center was a shadow that resembled a stiff bird! If I had been careful enough, I would have seen a window out
of the shadow and that out of the window was my own pair of eyes looking directly at me! But in my blind excitement I didn't see neither of them. Or did I forget what I saw as this memory faded away over these few years? But I'll never
forget the moment I met those dear people once again greeting us at the entrance
of their condo. Aunts and uncles looked the same; two little cousins grew taller; and Grandma had similar wrinkles and tears as I had remembered three years ago, but Grandpa.... Mother didn't notice at once, but I did...his left hand was
shaking badly. With a pang I looked up at his face, and he looked ten years older.
"Hello! What would you like for brunch?" Came a soft male voice, which brought
me back from my recollection. We both had rice packages. Two more hours later
, we safely landed at the Xianyang Airport, Xi'an.
It was also snowing there but with a heavy and persistent fog. Soon after applying for boarding cards and passing through the security, we were informed that our final flight was delayed due to the bad weather. At the departure hall anxiously we waited, only to be kept disappointed by news about more flights delayed
and canceled. We hoped against hope that our flight would not be cancelled. We
grew even more worried when we thought of our huge luggage, in which stuffed were 20 kilos of frozen mutton! But as the day grew darker, and when still more flights were being cancelled, our hope was getting deflated by the great fog and snow outside.
Again and again we checked time. Minutes felt like hours. The seats must have
been pinned with invisible needles! The dinner time approached. Free supper was provided. Just when I was chewing on the fried chicken leg came wonderful news that our flight would arrive at 9 o'clock and be ready for boarding in half an
hour. In my tremendous relief I almost choked over the bone.
Time was no longer stagnant. We soon found ourselves walking in the boarding tunnel, looking for the right seats, and fastening our seat belts. For the next two hours I sat by the window, looking out in the dark, eyes half closed and mind
unfocused. Sometimes I could get a glimpse of something smoky and vaporous glimmering in the darkness; but other times with the hope to see shining stars, I saw nothing but the endless and impenetrable inky black. Could be death like this
? I could not help but wonder. But how does a man tell it's black when all his
brain cells died of oxygen exhaustion?
Then I saw lights way down below. Lights of life. They grew bigger and stronger, and then with a thump the plane touched the ground. The two words "Gui Yang"
braided in neon lights were glistering under the big, big black sky.
Now was 11:40pm, six hours delayed, when we walked to the transmission line to get our bags. Who will be picking us up at this late hour? I asked Mother, who
was craning her neck to look out for our luggage, obviously too busy to answer my question.
But there they were! Tiptoeing at the exit were Mother's brother and sister-in-law and two sisters and their boys! "What are you all here for?" was Mother's greeting. Tears in my eyes, I already knew the answer.
Breathing warmth and damp in the air, we headed for Grandparents' home and my aunts for their apartments. We did not expect to see Grandpa and Grandma downstairs this time, knowing they lived on the fourth floor and Grandpa was no longer able to walk properly due to his back and foot problems. It turned out that we were half wrong. Just when I got off the car and walked toward the entrance with
my head bent low, a familiar voice came from my back. I wheeled around and saw
Grandma smiling at me. "Let's get inside, honey. Be careful with the stairs.
It's dark here and a bit high."
To be continued....
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