Walking In Wuhan

So, by now, Cliff should be back on American soil. We haven't heard from him, and we're operating under the assumption that he had no problems getting through customs. Then again, getting hassled would be a logical end to his time in China, considering his first 36 hours in Beijing.

We ventured to Beijing with Cliff on Sunday night. Spirits were high as we loaded our bags and prepared to visit China's cultural center. About 20 minutes before we left for the train station, Cliff had a revelation: he couldn't find his passport.

We turned out apartment and his bags inside out. We flipped over mattresses, triple and quadruple-checked bags in a last-ditch effort to find that little navy-blue book. We left for the train station not knowing where his passport was and planned to head for the US embassy upon our arrival to Beijing.

We arrived in Beijing around 7 a.m. A running diary of what followed:

Monday 7:01 a.m. -- we find the taxi line and wait for about 20 minutes.

7:20 a.m. -- We get a taxi. Our driver seems angry as traffic accelerates to a crawl. I notice he keeps sighing and itching his groin each time traffic stops. The weather is at least tolerable at this point. Remember this later on.

8 a.m. -- Courtney and I arrive at the hostel to check in. Cliff and the sighing driver head for the US Embassy. It should also be noted that without a passport, Cliff cannot check into the hostel.

10 a.m. -- We arrive at the embassy area. In Beijing, all the foreign embassies are located in the same general area. Courtney and I initially had difficulty finding the American embassy. But after walking for a few minutes all signs pointed to us being in the correct place -- SUV's, unnecessarily large buildings, a dramatic upswing in overweight people. It should also be noted that inside the US embassy walls sits a Starbucks. Apparently, Starbucks is as American as obesity and Sport Utility Vehicles.

We meet up with Cliff, who finds that his emergency passport will be ready at 2 p.m. In the meantime he has to go to the Public Security Bureau to report his Visa as stolen.

10:30-noon -- Passport and Visa reported stolen to Chinese authorities.

Noon -- We head back towards the U.S. Embassy and get in our first real Chinese car accident. A driver cuts off our taxi and we careen into a parked car. This touches off a round of lawsuit jokes as a crowd starts to gather around the three-car pileup. We quickly pay and get the heck out of there while the drivers try to save face. Decide to eat near the embassy, because by this time the temperature is flirting with 100. Our restaurant is clearly Greek, -- blue tables, pictures of Greek guys on the wall -- but serves pizza and spaghetti. I have the spaghetti that tastes suspiciously like the recipe favored by the Grace Abbott Elementary School cafeteria.

2 p.m. -- Cliff gets his emergency passport. We head back to the Public Security Bureau to get a new visa. We get there and the line snakes about 80 feet around the second floor of the building. After waiting for nearly two hours, Cliff applies for his visa, but learns there is no way to expedite the visa process and that he won't be able to pick up his passport for another six days. The problem is his flight leaves Wednesday. So at this point, he's looking at a 6-day stay in Beijing and a hefty bill to change his flight. Beijing officially sucks.

5 p.m. -- After arriving back at the hostel -- they let Cliff check in after making mounds of copies -- Courtney decides to watch a few of the pirated DVDs Cliff bought in Wuhan. What does she find wrapped with the pirated DVDs? Cliff's lost passport. We all sat there, mouths agape for a few minutes while Cliff tried out a few choice English phrases.

6 p.m. -- We go to eat Beijing Duck with Cliff muttering, "I don't normally do things like this," between bites of bird. Courtney, ever the caring sister, kept refilling his wine glass and telling him everything was OK.

Tuesday 8 a.m. -- Cliff heads back to the Embassy. He's now on a first-name basis with everybody there. He's also decided to tell the embassy that he's in the Air Force.

10 a.m. -- We meet him at the Public Security Bureau. He's carrying a stamped letter from the US Embassy, basically stating that he needs to get home Wednesday or face dire consequences from his "employer."

10:30 a.m -- Upon seeing the stamp, the Chinese government workers spring into action. Courtney and I watched from a distance as one of them picked up a red phone. My thought: A) he's either giving the secret launch codes, or B) calling Batman.

10:40 a.m. -- After a few tense moments, Cliff informs us that his passport will be ready Wednesday morning, just in time for him to make his originally scheduled flight. See, in China, everything is about the stamp. If you want anything done that requires permission, you get a stamp. It's been this way for thousands of years. If you get the stamp, people move.

10:43 a.m. -- Cliff leaves the line and slides his documents into an envelope, hands shanking like he'd downed a gallon of Starbucks coffee. The past two days had definitely sucked, but hey, everything was fine.