I can't believe it's over

But it's over. "The trip" -- my three-week journey to, in and back from mainland China reached its blessed and surreal end last night at 2 AM, when I finally found myself the guest once more of my own apartment. (Of course, finding my sunscreen had erupted inside my toiletries bag, and then that I had [and still have] no running water, made the homecoming a little rocky.)

They say twenty one days of something makes it a habit. Well, I can attest that as soon as my friend, Terri, stepped off the bus from Taipei to Taichung, leaving me alone for the first time in three weeks on my way to my stop -- everything seemed to come to a sudden, jarring halt. "What? No more trip?" I asked, plaintively. Granted, over the last day, in najing, and the final marathon trip home, via Hong Kong, I kept running into it all as The Trip That Would Not Die. But now it's dead; and yet it's alive and well in my memory.

It was a phenomenal experience -- both inspiring and draining -- and one that will assume its full existential stature only in time. I was so privileged: to remain healthy, to experience things that many Chinese, let alone humans, never gain to see, to have a cheerful and very prayerful travel companion the whole way.

Now it's time to get re-rooted in Taichung: commence in earnest at a new job; sift and compile over 600 photos and goodly sized gobs of video for personal recollection and other-consumption; to pay outstanding or standing bills; etc.

Stay tuned...