A Late Night Visitor

Yesterday (Thursday) was a relatively light day. Angela took us to the sights that were smaller or didn't require a lot of walking. She also had us back to the hotel at about 5pm so that we could get some extra rest.

And rest we needed. Both boys fell asleep in the minibus on the way back to the hotel, and after polishing off two pizzas in our room (we did the authentic Chinese thing for lunch), we all were not much good for anything. So we all went to bed. It must have been about 7:00 in the evening.

I was awakened out of a deep sleep later on by Deb, who hissed, "There's someone at the door!" I looked toward the door. In the dim light I could see nothing amiss. The room was in the same chaotic state we had left it in when we went to sleep. Then I heard it. Knock, knock, knock. Then it dawned on me what Deb was saying. There's someone at the OUTSIDE of the door. I stared at the door for a short while, hoping it would go away, but there it came again. Knock, knock, knock. Why would someone be knocking at our door in the middle of the night?

I got up, threw on a pair of pants, and stumbled to the door. In the dazzling brilliance of the hallway, I could see nothing. Then I shifted my gaze downward a few degrees. There, standing patiently, was a young man dressed in a bellhop uniform. He held something out toward me, gently cradling it in both hands. It had a piece of paper attached to it.

I had no idea what it was. The brilliance of the hallway and my lack of corrective lenses made it impossible to see clearly. My first guess was a shower cap. But I dismissed that idea right away as being way too ridiculous.

The bellhop said something and gestured with his item. The paper appeared to have some sort of writing on it. But it was all in Chinese and I couldn't read it anyway, even if I could read Chinese.

He held it out toward me and turned it over. By now my eyes were getting more used to the light so I could at least identify simple shapes and lines. I finally recognized his cargo.

It was underwear, wrapped in a light mesh bag.

He turned it over again and I was able to identify the items on the bottom side of the bag.

Socks.

Now that positive ID had been established I began to struggle with the question of why a bellhop would want to wake me up out of a deep sleep to sell me underwear and socks at 11:00 at night.

He continued to gesture toward the paper. It was still impossible for me to read the small Chinese text and even the larger handwritten text. My glasses were located somewhere in the darkness behind me and it would have been a major search without turning the lights on and waking up the kids.

It finally dawned on me what was happening.

These items ALREADY belonged to us. He was returning them, freshly laundered, with a new laundry bag. His gesturing toward the paper was asking me to sign permission to add the charges to the room tab.

When I pantomimed the question about his having a pen, he strode into the room and extracted one out the information folio sitting on the desk. He then laid the paper on the desk and pointed at it. I'm not sure what I wrote, or even if I wrote it in the right place. The desk was dark, and I could barely see the paper, much less any signature location.

Xie Xie (thank you), I think.

Now satisfied, he left the package with me and disappeared. I returned to bed.

Deb had been watching this interchange from the other side of the room and pieced things together. Earlier in the day, David found this nice laundry bag sitting next to the TV and put his clothing in it when he changed. He didn't realize that the hotel would launder the items in the bag. None of us would have guessed that the items would be returned so late at night.

Now fully awake, Deb and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. It was one of those maddening yet comical things that requires a healthy sense of humor.