Have you ever felt like you were going to die? That you were strapped down to a seat, couldn't move, just waiting for death to come? I have. It all started four months earlier, when I decided to become a foreign exchange student in Xi’an, China.
I barely knew the language. I knew how to say “yes,” “no,” “thank you,” and “no need.” I never would have gone if it wasn’t for the accident. A month before I had to make my decision, two of my friends were in an airplane wreck. It had fallen from the sky during a violent storm. One of them survived, the other didn’t.
Things around town just weren’t the same. No matter how hard I tried to get over the grief and move on, I couldn’t. Every day I would see the vacant space in the parking lot where she used to park her car. We always had the best of times together. On most Saturdays, we would drive to Starbucks and go to the nearest park to sip our coffee.
We would talk about all the people we hated, and what we would do once we graduated. She wanted to go to the art institute in New York, and I wanted to go to Stanford. We had it all planned out. Even though we would be on opposite sides of the country, we would Skype every Tuesday night at 7. Hannah was like that, she always had a plan for everything.
A couple of weeks after the funeral, I made up my mind to go to China. I had my parents drive me to the city, then took a cab to the nearest airport, LAX. It was an eight hour flight from L.A. To Beijing. When the plane landed, I navigated my way through the seas of people in the airport and found the terminal where I was supposed to meet my tour guide. I saw someone holding up a sign with my name on it. It was around 10:30, and after a long day of flying, I was ready to go to bed. However, my tour guide had a different idea.
He looked to be around 25, and had short black hair that was poking up everywhere. Talking a mile a minute, he said,"Hello! My name is Alan! I'll be your driver until you get settled in with the family you're staying with!" He sounded like he had just drank multiple cans of RedBull. He had a little bounce in his step which made it seem even more likely. Alan wore a purple v-neck, and looked like he had somewhat of a sense of style.
We drove to the city of Xi’an. He kept on calling it a village, but it had over seven million people living there. The "village" was beautiful. It was surrounded by mountains, and had lots of flowers. Along the roads you could see apple trees and some stone structures that looked to be a few hundred years old.
When I asked Alan about them, he said they were tombs. He told me that when he graduated from the university, half of his class dropped out and became tomb robbers. Because of his love for history, he decided to become a tour guide/driver. Alan told me about his family, and it instantly made me miss mine. But for the time being, I was distracted by his stories.
He had a wife and daughter, but they both didn't speak English. I decided that whoever taught him English must have been from somewhere in the UK. When he talked, you could tell he had a bit of an English accent on top of his Chinese one. He told me that he trained his dog in English, so that it would only listen to him.
Meeting Alan was a very positive point in my life. He was so outgoing, vibrant, and full of joy. Just being with him for a few hours taught me that life is truly a happy thing. It helped me deal with the grief that used to overcome me every time I thought of Hannah. Spending time away from home was just what I needed. I finished out the last semester, and was ready to return home. I was so excited to have discovered the secret of dealing with grief.
My flight left that night. I couldn't wait to see my family and friends again. I boarded the plane, and it took off after an hour delay. The air conditioner had stopped working, and it was exhaustingly hot in the plane. The turbulence came next.
My stomach kept on dropping, and I felt faint. There was an ambiance on the plane of complete fear.
The lady next to me was nervously guzzling wine like it was the last night of her life. Outside the sky seemed angry: black and cloudy, with the occasional lightning. Our plane was being tossed to and fro; it felt like no one was in control. Oh Hannah, I thought, so this is what it felt like: strapped in a seat, waiting silently for death to come. I wonder if she died as happy as I did; with the people she loved. Not physically beside her, but with the memories of them in her mind.
