from Beijing - the first half of the story

(obviously I got here so the story is not completed yet. I will fill you in on the other details later)

Here I am in Beijing China in Ming Gong Hotel rooming with an employee of the US Embassy in Mongolia. We are both stranded here in what used to be a 3 star hotel, unsure of when we are going to be flying out of here for Ulaanbaatar. There are stains on the carpet, there is visible dust in the corners and the paint in the bathroom is peeling. The view is dismal out of our third floor room, not more than the backside of a rundown building. My roommate thinks it is pretty nasty but honestly I could care less—it certainly beats sitting in the uncomfortable chairs in the airport hour after hour. Besides, its free and is “nice” compared to some of the bungalows I’ve stayed in in Thailand.
We arrived around 6:30am and were supposed to fly out at 8:20am which got moved back to 12pm only to be moved back to 1600hours. They said bad weather and strong winds are keeping us here. Around 1300hours an Air China lady was walking around holding a small sign that showed my flight number and was saying something that I could not quite hear. I decided to follow her and see what was up, I was never able to grab her attention to ask what was going on but I overheard her mentioning something about a hotel. A mixed bag assortment of followers trailed the lady with the small sign through a maze of people to an immigration area where they took our ticket stub and made us wait. I saw some people that were speaking in English to each other and tried to discreetly listen in on their comments only to find that they knew no more than I did. After 15 minutes or so of waiting around a lady said “Ulaanbaatar, follow me” and so the flock continued, our destination now our group moniker. We continued through another maze out of the international terminal into an even larger group of people yet the Air China representative was no where to be found. Someone in the front must have been trailing her closely because we ended up outside and got into some buses that took us to this hotel. The only way I made it there was I realized that it was important to pay close attention to the others on the flight—they became like my scattered bread crumbs guiding me back (even though I’d never gone that way before…).
A very drunk man made it clear I was on the right path, a friend or relative kept having to stabilize him as he could not even walk straight or keep his balance. His wobbling, teetering-tottering stumbling is strangely what helped me know I was going the right way.
When we got to the hotel we walked in and no instructions were given. I watched and followed suit, we were to go to the desk and give them our passport and other half of our ticket to get a room. As I was in line I watched an American that lives in Beijing complain about having to stay here when he lives close by and he proceeded to rant in Mandarin to the hotel staff. This caused quite a stir, it was more of a “lets all stare at the foreigner speaking Mandarin” kind of way where everyone was quite amused. I got to the reception desk at the same time as another American and the lady asked me how many and since we were both traveling alone she put us together. He says to me, “how do I know you’re not an axe-murderer?” I smile and we do the standard funny comment about the situation followed by introduction of names.
I’m sitting here in my room on the soft bed not knowing when we are going to fly out. They haven’t told us anything. It’s 16:35, obviously we aren’t flying on the scheduled flight. Is there a flight later tonight? Are we going to sleep here tonight? Are they going to give us food coupons?
A slight crick on both sides of my neck nags me, prompting me to ask, “why couldn’t I have known that we would get a hotel room?” I had slept outside my gate, 1c, for two hours. It must have been a comical sight, although probably not too uncommon in a place like the airport. I was a tangled mess of my two bags, afraid they might be swiped while I am catching some z’s, my jacket draped over me. I looped my arms through my backpack straps then placed it on the seat to the right of me and laid my head upon it. After my neck began to hurt I put the bag on the left. It wasn’t quite the same and I couldn’t sleep as well.

So here I am. Waiting. Questions fill my mind disrupted by the intermittent snores of my roommate. I wonder, am I meant to go to Mongolia? Is God trying to tell me I should be doing something else? After several months of wondering what the details were beyond the fact that I would be going I finally get to Thailand and have a chance to learn a little more. Then we work out the details that should have been known before and it leads to a delay of departure because of the process of getting a work visa. Then my stay gets extended which was a blessing to have more family time and getting to see my brother play in a few basketball games. Then again it makes me overstay my visa for Thailand and we get a small fine. I finally got on the plane 1am this morning thinking that this was finally it. It is, but I have been avoiding thinking about this and so I was/am eager to just get there and face it and make it that much more real. It has been such a distant, nebulous concept. Now I am ready and the flight is not. I am a willing vessel. God use me. Cripple my fears and questions of the unknown. You are all I know right now, you are the hope I cling to. You opened the doors to allow this opportunity, give me the eyes to see, the ears to hear, a heart for others, the hands to serve.