Today went off without consequence, and now we're waiting in the Beijing airport for our flight to leave. Oh Starbucks, how I love thee and thy free internet!
We took the train this morning and arrived around 1 PM. We then navigated the bowels of the Beijing subway system and ended up at a fancy-schmancy shopping center where we had a late lunch at my favorite restaurant. Kevin went to Starbucks while I got my hair cut at the Tony & Guy. There are few places that I trust getting my hair cut at home because of the dreaded thinning scissors and the eternal bangs that are so popular here. But for some reason, a familiar brand convinces me that these people must know how to cut a foreigner's hair. Honestly, I feel like my new haircut is a bit mom-ish but I guess that's only fitting considering I'm going to Africa to become a mom. Either way, it was a fun way to kill some time.
Then we took a bus & another subway to grab a quick dinner at Subway. We took the airport express out to the airport and got here around 8:30 PM. We arrived at our terminal to find a madhouse. There were ghetto signs hanging from the monitors with different African destinations written on them. Come to find out, the entire computer system was down! One of the airline employees took our passports, and, after checking the master list (hand-written master list I might add!), she asked us if we were sure we were booked on today's flight. Yes, I told her. Absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure as sure can be. OK, she said, and generated two tickets for us that look like this:
Now if that isn't the most ghetto thing I've ever seen! So much for making an adoption scrapbook with all my charming mementos. OK so I'll probably never make an adoption scrapbook but if I did, these ghetto tickets would certainly spoil the look of things! But here's hoping that they'll get us on the plane!
After being issued our questionable tickets, we went through immigration & customs. I stepped up in line and handed the official my passport. He looked at me and my straight hair (thanks Tony & Guy!), looked at my curly-hair passport picture, looked at me again and said, "Is this your photograph?" Thankfully, he took my word for it when I said yes, didn't even balk at the odd ticket I hand him, and let me pass through.
Which now brings us to Starbucks, our final destination before our 11 hour flight to Africa. Babies, ready or not, here we come!