Almost in a spur of the moment decision, since we were planning on settling on crossing early tomorrow morning, we ended up going for the border this evening. Despite having a visa in my passport, I was still nervous about whether or not they immigration officials would let us in. I suppose it was just residual apprehensiveness and “I’ll believe it when I see it,” outlook after going through such a hassle to get the visa in the first place. As we entered the border check on the Chinese side, I did my best to smile (not too much though) and look as unsuspicious and as excited to be in China as possible. That wasn’t too hard, since I was excited and the only suspicious things about me were the two sections of the Lonely Planet stashed in the middle of my backpack. Thankfully, we made it through just fine.

As we waited outside of the customs building for a couple more people to get through, a guy on a motorbike rolled up. After quickly checking Matt and I out, he asked us something. I wasn’t quite sure what he said, but he repeated it and I caught the words “guo ren.” Assuming they were accompanied by words asking which country I was from, I said, “Mei guo ren.” American. He asked another question. The only thing I could pick up was “Zhong guo.” China. Assuming he had just asked: “But are you Chinese?” I answered, “Wo baba de baba shi Zhong guo ren.” My father’s father is Chinese. He smiled, seemingly satisfied with my response. And I smiled as well, happy to have accomplished (sort of) an exchange in Chinese, and it wasn’t even about asking directions!