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Leaving the bunch hustled to get on the tricycle, I was plodding along as my head was turning a little dazzle. Breathing had become more difficulty and each puff had taken longer time. I wasn’t so sure whether it was the load I was humping or it was the impact of the altitude that start to get into me. Humping, yes, that’s the word for it, with the North Face backpack full load on my back and an HP 16 inch laptop in front, though the load wasn’t as heavy as the ones Tim O’Brien and his bunch humped in Nam, but I was half way there.

I lift up my head to see the street sign after walked for another 5 minutes which led me to another cross-road. It was Dousenge Road ahead.

I glanced at the both sides as the street was unfurling itself. Chinese restaurants, papa’s and mama’s stores, pharmacies all with Chinese names on top of the door, sidelined with a small line in Tibetan, which in a sense slightly remind me that I’m in Lhasa now. Disappointed and bored with the street scene, I ducked my head, staring at the asphalt, felling into contemplation again.

Coming to Lhasa is partially a dream, and partially an escape. A dream, a dream for reality, and an escape, an escape from reality, as well. While the dream is still ahead of me, the escape has already been doomed. I have all myself to blame for ending my American journey so soon, yet, I know that it was a helpless situation. I deceived many people I know which I couldn’t put things straight yet, and that has haunted me. I’m unable to find a job ever since I came back from the States and that was hurting. The very fact that China is a bedlam with city jungles in the east fraught with businesses robbing with no scruples, people dwelling on their own drudgeries with streetwise stupidities, and country in the middle and west filled with one redneck’s nouveau riche out of millions gull's painful humming and enraged screaming disgusted me. I’m actually is escaping for escape’s sake, and that’s the last straw.

I hesitated for the whole afternoon before the train’s departure. Saddened by the girl took the rain check 3 hours or so before the date, grieved by the drizzled rain outside, I had the 81 years old Charlie to keep me accompanied. We discussed Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s Autobiography which he introduced it to me. He tried the whole time to light up the air by sharing a few great punch lines like “Are you wise or otherwise?” and “I know you kind, but are you kind?” The poor old fella booked the sleeper to Beijing depart at 9 o’clock at night, but in order to find the boarding gate and be exactly on that train, he decided to be in that 300-thousand-people- at-any-time train station (he previously bluffed that his sure that there must be 3 million people at any time though) 2 hours in advance. My train was leaving at 8 and I figured be at the station one hour in advance is enough.

That afternoon was also the culmination. From the excitement of back to Shanghai again, a couple of nights craze and hilarity, from the ecstasy to be able to engage in different conversations with different people again, the original freshness dropped to lukewarm “What’s up” and awkward smile, finally slide to different expressions of “Here’s You Again!” Alex and I pretended to not noticing each other down the lobby that afternoon. Sarah barely smiled at me when we met. The bar was quite as well, though off and on the mouse clicking and pad knocking indicated someone were there.

Staying is just another dead-end, hitting the road is the right choice.

I stood up, stretched my hand out to Charlie, his waiting for another 5 minutes for young girls promised to come down and drop him off at the departure gate.

“Well, guess I’ll have to take a leap first.”

Charlie sandwiched my hand with his, “Have a great time in Tibet.”

“Thanks, and enjoy your stay in Beijing.”

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