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Writer's pictureJohnny

New Place, New Home

From Anhui to Hong Kong

July 23rd, a van filled with local villagers picked me up early. The driver's face emitted irritation having to drive out of the way of his normal route to pick up a foreigner at the base of some mountain. The morning mist still surrounding the tea fields. The hum of life not yet awaken. The van sped fast throughout the winding mountain roads, only stopping for breakfast.


None offered.

No care given.


The importance was my destination. It weighed as heavy as my over packed bags did. The time had come for another visa hop. Another trip to the beloved city of Hong Kong. My moldy passport was clung tight against my body by the seat belt of the van. Eyes watching the views of rural China pass me. Mind thinking about plans for my final trip in Hong Kong.


From Hong Kong to Henan

July 28th (early morning), just like that my time in Hong Kong was over. A blur of people, streets, alleys, and many soothing cups of tea is all that remains in my mind. Typhoon Gaemi extended my trip by a few days. Gifting me the time to read and meditate as the rain fell around me. Experiencing one more historical event out of the many in my life.


Luggage clutched in my hands or pressing firmly on my back; I marched towards the train station. Returning to China bearing gifts for a few with thoughts of training circling my head. Sitting down in the soft seat. The sleek metal train took off at 200 kilometers per hour. Making the long journey seem short. Eyes heavy from the early departure, and shoulders sore from the weight of my attachments. Rest found me peacefully.


Gong Yi, the Home of Du Fu

July 28th (evening), the slender bullet that was my temporary home came to a halt. Zheng Zhou. My final stop. Shaking myself out of a daze, my hands clutched my luggage tightly. Not wanting to lose it in the sea of people rushing to their own destinations.


To my surprise, the train was an hour late. Which didn't support the next leg of my journey. Rushing through the crowded station, my eyes not moving from one beacon of hope. "Long Distance Transport". If I could catch the last bus out of here, then I'd still be able to finish my journey. A couple of tired taxi drivers questioned me, asking me questions. My response was simple, "Long Distance Transport". They walked away mumbling and shaking their heads. My feet carried me onward but, a doubt crept into my mind.


"Did they just say there were no more buses?"


The waning sun shone upon my eyes as I exited the station. The Bus Station was blocked by a sea of green taxis and their drivers. Collecting customers like fish to bait. As I approached the sea of cars, eyes fixed on the Bus Station's red letters, two drivers approached me. Questioning me on my destination, I answered honestly.


"Gong Yi, I'm taking the bus though"


"Gong Yi? There are no more buses. They ended at 6."


A quick glance at my phone proved him right. 6:45. An travel fatigued mind realizing the driver was telling the truth. There were no more buses. Maybe the fatigue showed upon my face; but one driver's demeanor changed.


"I'll take you"


Without hesitation, I followed him into the green taxi. Hoping that all the readings about compassion and kindness were true. The taxi driver's slightly wrinkled square face, narrow eyes, showed no signs of deception. As the green machine started up, his talked with the joyfulness of a local. His speech was that of someone talking about their favorite hobby. We talked of booze, cigarettes, his family, age (45), and the struggles of daily life. Driving me to Gong Yi took an hour and some change.


But as I paid my fare, I knew I trusted the right guy. He ensured all my belongings were out of the car, and explained the price of the ride saying;


"I'm no liar. I give an honest fare. But, find another driver when you have to get home. This is too far."


To that I replied;


"I trust your price, thank you."


With that I shut the door, turning to my new home for the next two months.


📿Johnny


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