The Moment of Truth

To my surprise opening the door to my apartment was a pleasant experience, it actually felt
like a home away from home. I had truly forgotten how homely I had made it with a few choice
pieces from back home and cheap accessories from Beijing. The first thing to catch my eye was
the gallery of photographs of my family, back home they are not necessary to display as I have the real thing, but here they are a warm and welcome reminder that they are always with me.

Once my bags had been dumped unceremoniously by my driver, who was holding his bag in a sign of silent complaint, I paid him for his efforts and closed the door. First check was the electricity, water and for any unwelcome visitors that may have decided to take up residence in
my absence, finding there was some and none of the latter, I decided to reward myself with a
nice cup of Israeli coffee and the left over sandwiches that my daughter had cleverly prepared.

Now fortified with renewed energy I began to tackle the opening of my luggage and the 'clean up'
of my apartment, to give it a fresh dust free fragrance. Visitors came bearing gifts of fruit and
veg, that helped take away the pangs of homesickness. Errands that I myself was unable to do
were undertaken and the initial pressure of settling back in was taken off my shoulders.

After a two day rest up, I was ready to go and visit my place of work, but first I had to deal with
the lack of telephone, as it had been cut off whilst I was away. This of course would prove to be
my re welcome back to China, for I now had to contend with the Beijing taxi drivers once more.
The guard of my building block kindly assisted me in hailing a taxi and persuading him to drive
in to assist me with my bags. As no one in the area spoke English, I used the paper of the telephone bill to assist me to explain my place of destination. Unfortunately, as I have said a
number of times in the past, many of the drivers are unable to read very well and so started a
unwanted tour of the city as he aimlessly drove around without having a clue where he was going!

Now you will of course say, why did I not do something. Well, I did. Firstly I telephoned the phone company and handed him the phone to receive directions, which he got, not once but
5 phone calls later and 5 sets of repeated directions, two stops at strangers on the street, two
extra calls to the secretary of my office to ask for translation assistance later, we finally found it!
To give him credit, it was tucked away behind a building, although large in existence, difficult to
see. Now he had to park, in a parking lot, as I had to scale down, crutches and all, a steep slope
to enter the premises. (Remember that in my opinion, agility and balance is something like DNA
in the Asian body!)

Now of course, the long organised wait. Everywhere in China, that is not a 'hole in the wall' office, runs on a number system, with plastic chairs galore available for your comfort and expected patience. Nowhere do you hear a raised voice complaining that someone has jumped into your turn, all is organised and orderly, with a security card at the door, not waiting to check
your back for a gun or bomb, but to ensure peace and flow in the system. Finally, my number
lit up the screen, but here was to be a new difficulty, English! Here I began to see the changes that had begun pre Olympics, places of public service, that may require assistance of English, now seem to have someone in place to help. So, to my rescue came a most personable young
man, who enabled me to arrange both for Internet and telephone hook up to be arranged within
the week.

My now patient taxi driver, happy with his now high fare, took me without further hitch to my
next place of call, work, now I had to wonder what my reception would be when they saw me
again after such a long break of three and a half months.