August 8, 2007 - In Transit, China
Lastly, the lasts.
Sitting here on my 18 hour flight, somewhere over the North Pole - thanks to a wonderful 3.5 hour delay in shanghai - I can't but help think about my lasts.
The last week has been a whirlwind of them. Or at least what I convince myself are lasts.
My last bowl of la mian. My last conversation started solely on my appearance1 - my foreign appearance. My last encounters with a bustling wet market.
But in the back of my mind I know its not true, in fact, I just can't really accept any of those things.
So it brings me to the conclusion that somehow my subconscious knows better than I do that I will be seeing more of china.
1 Thats not true. I can count on always starting a few conversations based on my appearance but they probably won't be of equal quality as most of the ones I was able to start this year. That and they will probably contain expletives...