An Adventure to Remember, Part Four: Will We Ever Leave Hong Kong?

If you missed the beginning of this story, go to these pages to read part 1, part 2, and part 3. This is the last part to this story, but a lot happens, and it's kind of long!

There Kayla and I stood, in the middle of a maze of sidewalks. At least that's what it felt like. On our way to the US Consulate, we realized that I hadn't read the map correctly, and we had no idea which direction to go. We must have been quite a site, holding our carry-on luggage, wearing dirty clothes (since we hadn't planned to stay in Hong Kong, we hadn't packed a change of clothes), and with bright red, sun-burnt skin (Kayla had blisters, her sunburn was so bad!). And there we stood, looking around, confused about where to go. We were surrounded by trees and sidewalks, but not many people.

We turned around, and there was an American guy, probably about 24 or so, walking toward us. He was dressed in a suit and tie, and when we approached him, he said he was going to the Consulate! What a strange turn of events, with God showing us that He would take care of every detail of our trip. This mystery man, (whose name I cannot remember), ended up being from Walla Walla, and he walked us right to where we needed to be. We were so thankful to God for sending him along right when we really needed his help!


Source

Once we got to the Consulate, Kayla filled out her paper-work, and we went inside to get the process of applying for an emergency passport started. No one is allowed to bring electronic devices into the building, so we checked them into a little box with the security guards at the front door, in exchange for a little plastic square with a number on it. This pile of electronics included my digital camera, both of our cell phones, and Kayla's iPod. We then went upstairs, and sat in a waiting room while they began processing Kayla's paperwork.

After about half an hour, Kayla and I realized that we had lost our little number square. We searched all around, and not finding it anywhere nearby, I went downstairs to tell the security guards that we had lost it. I thought I remembered the number, (42, I believe), and the tall Chinese man said he'd mark our box so that if anyone turned in that number our belongings would be protected.

We had a few errands to run to finish out the paperwork process, and Kayla and I were overjoyed to find that we were in the same exact block as we had toured, just a week before. She had to find a way to get her picture taken, and we knew were a little photo booth was. Of course, it was out of order, but again, God provided for us, and the repairman was there within what seemed like only 15 minutes. We found a little cafe and had some coffee and a muffin, and checked our email on their computer.

After only a couple of hours, Kayla's passport was finished, and she had it in her hands! I still feel amazed that it took only three short hours to create this passport, and we were able to get back  to our journey home. We hurried downstairs, eager to find a taxi and get to the train station.

Standing in line at the security station, waiting to get our electronics, I noticed that the man in front of us was turning in a little plastic square that said "42"! The guard was not the same tall, friendly Chinese man, but a grumpy old American. I said to him, "That's our number. I spoke with the other guard about losing our number, and he has our number!" I was a little frantic, imagining that this man was going to steal our belongings. What did the guard do? Did he ease my fears? Did he calm me down and assure me that it was alright, that they knew we had lost our number card?

No. He yelled at me! He told me to stay in line and to wait my turn. The man in front of us quickly stammered that he had found the number on the floor, and just as quickly, he hurried out of there. What did I do? I started bawling. Thankfully, the nice guard returned. He assured us that he wasn't going to give our belongings to anyone else, then gave us our belongings and walked us outside. All the while, I was crying and crying. Poor guy.

After a few minutes, I calmed down and we started back to the airport. We must have gotten a taxi, but I don't remember it at all. Finally, we arrived and went to counter for Cathay Pacific. They were able to book us on a flight to Vancouver in three days! Three days! We were also put on stand-by, and thankfully, after only a few hours of waiting, we were on a flight.

Kayla and I ran through the airport to catch our flight, yet again, and got to our gate just in time. We boarded the flight without a problem, and as we sat down next to each other (after begging some guy to switch with me so we could be together), we both breathed a sigh of relief. We were on our way home!

Here we are on the flight back. Somehow, this is the only picture that I took the entire time we were in Hong Kong the second time... and it cuts off most of Kayla's face! I'm sorry, Kay! I don't know why we didn't try to take another one...