Hainan Island, Part 2

Touring China’s Hawaii: Arrival

Photo by Randy Green

As TEL subscriber Tony (an unindicted co-adventurer during my first months as a foreign teacher) commented, perhaps there is a bit more detail than necessary in this recounting. Please remember that I am describing things directly from my notes at that time and place. Everything was new to me. I was like a toddler, bravely venturing outside of my front yard for the first time. Sometimes I wish I could recapture the innocence and awe I experienced in those early days.

Yes, the world I am describing is past - twenty years past - yet parts of it are timeless. Like Torgeir’s raft expeditions in the South Pacific, a way of life tends to linger despite mere changes in the calendar. Come with me and share the impressions of an eager young foreign teacher exploring a new facet of his expat life.

Hainan Island, Part 2

Touring China’s Hawaii, Arrival

Getting up early that first morning of my holiday trip, I finished loading my backpack with camera, passport, notebook and pens, cash, and a couple of changes of clothes.  Along with my ever present sunglasses and Tilley hat, a lightweight jacket completed my travel wardrobe preparations.  I was eager to get started, to see this tropical island I had heard about from Ellen.  Already, I was glad that I had bowed to Ellen’s urging that we travel by plane.  She had been right.  Two days on a train in this heat would have been a miserable start to any vacation.  

Next, Ellen came to the door of Apartment 302 at 10:30.  She was again accompanied by her high school student, Louis, and his father.  She had been tutoring Louis and living with the Li family since the end of the semester.  Now, finally, she was going home to Hainan Island for the rest of her summer holiday.

I was ready to leave.  Grabbing my backpack, we quickly went downstairs.  Mr. Li drove us to their home and served another wonderful meal.  But this was not for me.  This was Ellen’s going-away luncheon; they would not be seeing Ellen again until she returned at the end of August for the new semester.  After lunch, I again got to enjoy that high point of civilized living, the short nap.  This is an institution which I highly recommend as an antidote for hypertension, afternoon lethargy, or excessive stimulation due to overfilled schedules, loudly ringing telephones, too many meetings, and recalcitrant computers.  

Following this short rest, Mr. Li drove Ellen and me to a previously arranged rendezvous where we met Angeline, her uncle, mother, and a young cousin.  After saying goodbye to the Li family, we changed cars and traveled to the airport where Ellen, Angeline, and I were then dropped off at the terminal.  

As the tickets had been previously purchased and we had no bags to check, all that was necessary was for us to pay the airport tax and go through security.  Security, in this case, was considerably lighter than in a US airport.  Or perhaps it was because a Tilley-hatted foreign teacher wearing a bright green, flower-covered Hawaiian shirt, carrying an overloaded student backpack, and accompanied by two beautiful Chinese girl students didn’t trigger any security profile alarms.  Inconspicuous, I was not.  Once through security, though, the procedure was identical to every other airport – hurry up and wait.

The Hainan Airlines flight was pleasant but uneventful.  Unexpectedly, I found a plastic knife, fork, and spoon packed with the small inflight meal.  It wasn’t just for me, the foreigner; everyone had similar implements although some passengers requested chopsticks which were quickly provided.  Perhaps it is the growing Western influence or perhaps it is because such tiny plastic tools are easier to use than chopsticks when one’s elbows are pinned to their side due to cramming three people into an impossibly small space and calling it economy class – the class that traveling foreign teachers can afford.  However, since it was my two lovely girls, Angeline and Ellen, wedged on either side of me, I had no complaints about overcrowding.  

There was one minor inflight incident worth noting.  Always - just as with the young teacher, Macy - I was woefully inaccurate in estimating the age of Chinese females.  I was so often wrong in my age estimates that I had finally begun to always add several years to what I initially guessed as their age.  Now, on our plane, one of the Hainan Airlines flight attendants was a beautiful, tiny girl who looked far too young to be working as a flight attendant. Using my system, I first estimated her age based upon observing her appearance.  Then, following my experience, I revised my estimate upward.  However, even with this adjustment, I had calculated that this young woman still must be only 18 or 19.  I mentioned this to Ellen.

Ellen, after a brief discussion (in Chinese) with this particular attendant, challenged me to guess the girl’s age.  Knowing that I always guessed too low, I attempted to be clever by hastily revising my initial estimate upward.  I now ventured that this young woman was probably 24 or 25 years old.  Ellen laughed and told me that this petite Sichuan province girl was indeed only 18.  

I had been correct but, mischievous Ellen, familiar with my method of compensating for my always-low estimates, had cleverly tricked me.  I can plead for clemency in that 18 year old girls are not hired as flight attendants in America.  Still, I was slightly embarrassed by such a bad estimate.  Also, after realizing how easily she had outwitted me, I mentally made a note not to play poker with Ellen.  Later in the flight, when she was showing me some card tricks she learned when she was five years old, this resolution was strengthened.  Outgoing, exuberant Ellen was not a traditional Chinese girl.  With Li Qin aboard, it was certainly not a dull flight.

Several hours later, we landed in Haikou, the capital city of Hainan Island.  Ellen had been right.  Fifty hours on the train and ferry in the summer heat would have been a disastrous start for our holiday trip.  Instead, we three arrived fresh and cool.  At the Haikou airport, we were met by Angeline’s uncle, aunt, and cousin.  We made our way through the terminal and to their car.  No rushing; this is Hainan Island where the pace of life is slower.   The tropical heat which met us as we stepped outdoors was greatly mitigated by the pleasant ocean breezes with their wonderful tang.  On Hainan Island, you are never far from the scent of salt air.

I immediately liked Angeline’s uncle, Dr. Ding.  He and his family had left their home in Henan province some ten years previously and had moved to Haikou.  Dr. Ding and his wife - also a medical doctor, plus a professor – were two quite successful professionals who had watched their new city grow very quickly in the recent years due to China’s economic boom.  

We left the airport and drove through Haikou.  Even at night, and even after a long day and a cross-country flight, I was favorably impressed with Haikou.  Endless rows of swaying palm trees lined the streets of this beautiful, modern, seaport city.  Haikou even smelled like New Orleans or Fort Lauderdale or Corpus Christi on a hot summer night.  The Haikou traffic was considerably lighter than what I had become accustomed to in Zhengzhou.  On the less crowded highways, Dr. Ding zipped along at a pace that seemed almost American.  This was not surprising; my city of Zhengzhou (with its surrounding communities) has a total population of about seven million but, on Hainan Island, there are only eight million people on the entire island province.  

One of the lingering memories I have of that first introduction to Haikou was the Century Bridge, an engineering and artistic marvel.  It is a huge, gorgeous bridge spanning the harbor and, at night, it was completely lit in soft blue light.  Seeing my interest, Dr. Ding pulled to the side and stopped his car on the middle of this bridge.  With traffic buzzing past us, we got out to stand at the bridge railing so I could enjoy the view of Haikou at night and sniff the ocean breezes.  In America, I would never attempt to stop a car on the middle of a bridge just to enjoy the scenery but, in Hainan, it was quite common.  

Since it was late, after only a brief orientation tour, we next began to search for a hotel.  However, we quickly learned that, due to a convention in town, every good hotel was completely full.  No problem.  It was decided that Angeline would stay with her aunt and uncle and we would meet again in the morning.  Meanwhile, Ellen used her cell phone to call a “sister” who lived in Haikou.  With only ten minute’s notice, we were welcomed into her former classmate’s apartment and put up for the night.  No questions, no expenses, no complications.  Welcome to Hainan Island where life is casual.

Just as Ellen had feared, we had chosen to travel during a week when a typhoon had passed through the area.  Thus, that night brought a heavy shower beginning after midnight.  Indeed, there was rain every single day I was in Hainan.  But most of the time, it was only a brief, light tropical shower in the afternoons.  That first night, the rain certainly didn’t disturb me.  Typhoon season held no terrors; I was warm, safe, and comfortable.  Surrounded by friends, the foreign teacher was on vacation.

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As you enjoy and reflect on my tropical adventures, think how great a cup of coffee would taste to accompany reading them. What a marvelous segue to my weekly plea for spare change as I direct you to my Buy Me A Coffee page. Any and all contributions will be most gratefully received.  

buymeacoffee.com/rgreenzzub