Have Chocolate,Will Travel

Guilin, Guang Xi Autonomous Province, People’s Republic of China

Jumping puddles on the banks of the Li river outside Guilin “This is young adult honeybee larvae. The larvae are taken just before they are matured and the wings begin to grow. This is a very special luxury.” I declined seconds and filled my plate with organ linings, praying for the meal’s end.

Later that night I met the other students downstairs for a game of Frisbee. One by one we gave in and dropped to the cool grass, until only Seth and Lindsey were still playing. Suddenly, Seth ran behind the dorm, soon followed by the sound of retching echoing off the concrete walls.

Dianna and I gave up on the evening and headed to our room to commiserate. Feverish and hungover, we watched a storm roll in with swollen eyes. Soon sheets of water were pouring from the sky and a bitterly cold wind was blowing daggers through the gauzy curtains. I rushed to help Dianna close the windows. Drenched hair whipped through the air unnoticed as we stared into the bowl of the storm. Strike after strike of green-tinted lightning shook Guilin and we stood there, rejected, exhausted, drunk.

We only had a few days until we left China to play catch-up with neglected classes back in Texas. Dianna shivered and started coughing, a gift from the streptococcus fairy. It was beginning to look grim.

Dianna and I had always prided ourselves on our resilience to the inconveniences and inevitable let-downs of travel. From the untamed cloud forests of Venezuela to the frantic streets of Taipei, allowing petty traumas to mar a trip was just not on the agenda. What were we doing feeling so miserable when we were in China, I wondered. Stolen wallets, manic-depressive Parisians, haunted hotel rooms, and plagues of bugs that burrow under your skin had never ruined a trip before. I was determined to save this night.

At a loss, I started to search the room for comforts and distractions. The wind shifted and set a tree branch to persistently scratching against the window. Dianna scribbled furiously in her journal.
The room had dismal prospects. One-size-fits-all slippers, a malfunctioning shower, and then I found our saving grace in a hot water bottle. I scrambled through my pack for chocolate-chip granola bars. Laughing maniacally, desperately, I broke the granola bars into two mugs of steaming water. I watched the granola dissolve away from the chocolate chips. Scooping the granola off the top, I stirred the remaining melted chocolate until it transformed into the happy uniform of water dressed in chocolate.

“Hot chocolate!” I proudly proclaimed, delivering Dianna’s cup as the steaming trophy it was. She peered into the murk.

“Where did you find this?” She asked, screwing her face into an apprehensive smile. “Oh, who cares. Gam bei!” Laughing and grimacing with happy abandon, we watched the storm rip through the trees.

I leave for an indefinite stay in China in less than a week, but I have learned – this time I will have with me a happy talisman of resilience. I will have my perfect protector of sugary goodness, I will have my hot chocolate.

And with it, I shall be invincible.