It’s dark. Very late at night. Or rather, early morning. We’re lost somewhere in Beijing. The city is loud. It’s always loud. Cars are racing past on four-lane streets. They shouldn’t exist in the middle of a city. The smog is heavy. It’s July, it’s warm. We’re walking around in shorts and T-shirts. My colleague is in his fifties. I’m still in my twenties. We’ve been drinking. Quite a bit. We have absolutely no idea where we are.
We’re in China for ten days of work. Long days of meetings, aligning, negotiating. So we figured the weekend was best used for partying. We took a cab from the hotel, picked a fancy club, dressed up and went with it. We danced, drank cocktails, did stupid things. The piña coladas were fantastic. They always are, to me. The shows, the people, everything was familiar but different. We had an amazing time. All the work worries gone for the night.
Around three we finally left. Getting home should be easy. I’d checked the map before we went out. One right turn, straight ahead, two kilometers. That’s it. Twenty minutes, maybe thirty, at most.
We take the right turn. I’m sure we do. And we walk. On and on. After an hour, we’re still walking. No hotel. No familiar buildings. How the fuck do you take the wrong turn when there’s only one turn? My colleague is laughing. He starts telling me stories about getting lost with his wife. Twenty years ago. Great. It’s not helping.
Well, let’s stop a cab. Simple. Except the cabs won’t stop. Maybe they don’t pick up foreigners? We wave at them, they drive past. One after another. Does nobody stop cabs on the street anymore? Someone told me you order them with your smartphone nowadays. Amazing. We didn’t bring ours. No Google Maps, no idea where we are, no clue how to get back. We’re in the middle of a gigantic city. The only Chinese words we know are hello and thank you. Ni Hao. Not helping.
Then let’s get some help. There must be other people. There are. We approach them. One, two, three. They wave us off, say something in Chinese and leave. What’s happening here?
Then we see a young woman. Long black hair, a long black dress, a fancy jacket. She must have been partying too. She’ll help us. We walk up to her. “Hello, we’re lost, can you please help us!” She avoids our eyes, looks away. Then she runs off. Like she’s scared. “Help, help!” we call after her.
Well, crap.
I realize how we must look. Two half-drunk foreign white men, talking loudly and approaching a dressed up woman walking alone at four in the morning. I thought we looked nice, friendly, maybe a little desperate. She ran.
So we’re standing there, in the middle of the night, no clue what to do next. We’re talking, laughing about the absurdity. We’re not worried. We’re semi-cocktail-drunk.
A few minutes later, the young woman suddenly comes back.
We don’t notice, at first. She walks up to us and starts talking. We don’t understand. She tries again. Nothing. Then she motions us to follow her. Sure. Why not. We tag along. A few streets left and right, then into a random hotel. She goes straight to reception and starts talking to the guy behind the desk.
Finally, we understand. He speaks English. She brought us here so someone could translate. We explain where we’re staying, and he helps us get a cab. It turns out our hotel is on her way home as well. At least that’s what the receptionist tells us. She’s coming with us.
Twenty minutes. That’s how long the cab takes to get us home. We somehow managed to take the wrong right turn and walk ninety degrees away from where we were supposed to go. What an achievement.
It’s nearly five when we finally reach our hotel. The woman stays in the cab. She’s quiet, friendly, a shy smile on her face. We try to pay the driver for the entire ride, including the rest of her way home. She refuses. We insist. She refuses again and ushers us out.
We get out. Our beds are waiting. The light is coming up on the horizon.
We never asked her name.
Season Two · Backpacks · Story 3/12
Well, the story is done. You read it. You got lost with me us, scared of a kind woman. Maybe laughed a little. Or not. Either is fine. Maybe there was a meaning for you.
But, there is more. So much more. BEYOND will be out soon.
I enjoyed this story, especially the moment you realized how the situation must have appeared from her perspective. I love that she came back to help despite her initial hesitation. There’s something especially touching about an act of kindness from someone whose name you’ll never know.