Pleased to Meet You

no fear of flying.

Flying had been an elusive concept for me before attending Howard University. At age 18, I hadn’t been outside of the state of Florida, which is my birthplace. Acceptance into Howard has not only gotten me on planes, but it has gotten me on planes to Atlanta, California, Boston, and even China!

As one of 100 students in the International Relations and Diplomacy delegation, I was the pick of the litter from students around the world that got the opportunity to travel to China with the International Scholars Laureate Program. Our select group of accomplished scholars experienced special access to the people, places, and perspectives behind China’s emergence as a global superpower.

The Diplomacy delegation includes sitting in on lectures by leading Chinese diplomats and foreign policy experts, visiting key embassies, attending China’s most prestigious universities, and most importantly, receiving a microscopic look at the lifestyle of the indigenous people compliments of China International Travel Service.

The very moment I de-boarded the Cathay Pacific flight in Beijing, it became evident to me that China is like a world all its own. From the majestic mountains that can be seen from anywhere in the country, to the omniscient military presence that hangs thick in the air; I knew that China had a story to tell and I was more than willing to pull back the folds.

The culture is a breath of fresh air, the technology is different, and the people are receptive and inclusive all at the same time. My first time abroad was spent in the past, present and future of China, a.k.a. Xi’an, Beijing, and Shanghai. I immediately became fascinated with the sights and sounds of the region. The buildings are taller, the food is tastier, the attractions are richer in culture, and you can consume the history of the people through your very lungs because it is embedded in the air of every city.

getting there.
On May 29, 2011, I found myself rushing against time to get to the charter bus that would deliver me to New York. Tears and sweat streaming down my face. I was literally weighed down by a 40 pound suitcase, a filled to capacity duffle bag cutting into my neck, a passport that would be devoid its possibilities if I didn’t make it to K Street NW at 2:30pm.

Dragging my belongings from Union Station to K Street should have been a small task; but I was weighed down by much more than physical baggage. I found myself carrying the weight of uncertainty and restlessness up the streets of D.C. while I openly cried my way up four blocks at 2:15pm when I had a bus departure in fifteen minutes.

Relieved, at 2:27pm I was entering the gates of the Mega Bus parking lot. My white t-shirt had become transparent from my sweat and my blazer was stuck to my body like sugar on cookies. I was hot, thirsty and exhausted but I had made it. As the bus pulled up to load the passengers’ belongings, I had resolved that I was going to sleep the whole three hours to New York.