Despite Vietnamese people telling me that border closed at 4:30pm and their attempts to sell me onward bus tickets at an inflated price, we went straight to the border after we were done with the Bac Ha debacle. We went with Caitlin (from our Sapa trek) and met a French guy Philip while waiting at Vietnamese passport control. Once stamped out of Vietnam, we walked across a river bridge to China. Walking across, I was overjoyed to be out of Vietnam. It was by far my least favorite country and I doubt I will miss it one bit (well, maybe the food).

Out of Vietnam, but not in China yet. Chinese immigration was quite an experience. A border guard ushered us to a counter to fill out an arrival card and customs declaration. Pretty standard procedure, except that he took my passport and quizzed me on my name and birthday while I was writing. Answering both questions correctly and having filled the forms out to his satisfaction, he pointed me towards passport control.

The border guard there did the usual with my passport: flip through the pages, briefly scan the visas and stamps, scan it into the computer, type in my data, and do a visual comparison of me and passport photo. Then he stood up from behind his desk and asked me to follow him. We walked over to the side of the arrivals hall and I silently watched as he examined every page of my passport. Standing there, he scrutinized the front page, before reading every single visa and entry stamp, then he curiously looked at the extra pages I had inserted a few months ago. This took a few minutes and a lot of will on my part not to say anything, when he finally told me, “Wait here.” He went away with my passport and discussed it with who I can only assume was his supervisor. After a few minutes he returned with a sheet of paper and pen and asked me to sign my name as he watched. Still not satisfied, he kept looking at my passport. Then he asked if I had any other certificates. Certificates? I told him no, at which he frowned. Then I thought maybe he meant ID, so I pulled out my California Drivers License. He took it and asked if I had any others. The only other anything I had with my photo on it was my ATM card, so I produced that as well. I guess that did it, because he finally gave me an entry stamp and my passport back.

Even after that, I still wasn’t out of the woods yet. My next challenge was customs. Not that I was trying to smuggle anything into China, but I’ve heard a lot of stories about people getting their guidebooks confiscated at airports and border crossings. Apparently, the Chinese government hates China guidebooks because they do not include Taiwan and customs often takes them citing the fact that the maps depict Taiwan as a separate country. Having done our research, Joylani had cut our China guidebook up into sections and hidden the map deep in one of our bags.

our cut-up guidebook

We figured even if they found a section of the guidebook, perhaps Yunnan or Hong Kong, there would be no controversial map to justify confiscation. After my bags went through an x-ray machine, the customs officer asked me to open my big bag (dang, I thought he’d search my daypack). I unzipped it and toiletries and clothes were all that were visible. Then he asked, “Do you have any books?” I pulled out a journal and Bible, which he barely glanced at. But in pulling these out, he could also see a couple torn-out sections of my guidebook. He pulled them out and flipped through them. I thought the absence of a national map had saved me when he said, “You know, this book is forbidden in China.”

“Huh?”

“This book is forbidden.” I asked why, confident that he’d have no reason since it wasn’t technically a book (just a section of a book) and there was no controversial map. But he pointed out that silhouette of China printed in the upper right-hand corner of a page omitted Taiwan. “Actually,” he added, “ Taiwan is part of China.”

“I know it is. This stupid book.”

“Yes, Taiwan is part of China. This book is forbidden and we confiscate it when we find it,” he said firmly, but looking almost sorry that he’d have to take it.

I seized upon this, “But tonight I’m trying to get to Kunming. This is my first time in China; how will I get to Kunming without my guidebook? I’ll tear out the pages with a silhouette if you want.”

He handed the sections back to me, saying, “I’ll let you keep it this time, but usually we take it. But Taiwan is part of China and tell your friends that this book is forbidden and not to bring it into China.” I said okay and thanked him profusely. When I had finished repacking my bag, he made a big smile and said, “Welcome to China.” Welcome to China, indeed, I didn’t feel to welcomed so far. He wasn’t too lenient a few minutes later though, as Caitlin had her guidebook discovered and taken away. Across the border, we walked to the nearby bus station and caught a departing sleeper bus headed to Kunming.

We’re in China! The border and road checkpoint on the way to Kunming were in my opinion, paranoid but polite. I was really looking forward to China and now I’m even more excited now that we’re here. Even Joylani’s happy to be here, despite being indifferent to the place as last as this afternoon. I still cannot decide if I’m happier to be out of Vietnam or in China.