China, My Hair and a Bungee Cord

President Obama was in China. Me too. His speech was censored, and so was
this blog. Now, I'm in Taipei, and it's smooth sailing on the Internet.

Things are going well. It's raining buckets, which isn't doing much for the
photo ops. But that's okay, I have plenty of work to do to keep me busy.

Today I realized that when you travel alone, there's no one to ask really
simple questions such as:

Why does everything look dirty here? * Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't. But the
buildings all look gritty. And rusty. And tired.

Why do I get carsick when I'm in Asia? * I've never been carsick. Never. The
last time I threw up was in Hugo, Oklahoma, and that was years ago. But on
my last trip I realized that I was carsick. And on the way to the airport
today, I just wanted the driver to pull over. I just didn't know how to say
that in Chinese. I survived, but barely.

Do women pee when they smoke? * Because in China, it's a big deal for the
men to go into the public restroom, light up a cigarette and let it rip.
Gross.

Were the ladies that work at the airline desks in U.S. airports ever nice,
young and cute? * Because I'm really tired of those old grumpy ladies at
JFK.

And speaking of airport employees, to the dude in Guangzhou that held me at
immigration. The picture in my passport is real. No need to stare at me,
pull me to the side, and have all your buddies stare at me. And when I
explained that I lost my hair, you don't need to point and laugh and say
"you lost a lot of hair." Normally I'm a good sport about it, but after 23
hours on a plane, I don't think you're funny.

But what is funny is that my suitcase was too big to fit in the trunk of the
taxi this morning. No need to worry - the driver pulled out a bungee cord
and held the trunk lid down for the hour-long drive. (And P.S. - it's work
stuff - I packed very light.)

This one is for my mom - Yesterday I spoke to about 75 Chinese students.
There was one American guy in audience, and after it was over I answered a
lot of questions individually. He waited in line to ask me this: "Are you
from Texas?"

"Yes," I said and thought to myself - did I talk about that? I asked him how
he knew.

"The accent," he said.

So, I've still got it.