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Land of the Setting Sun

5/17/2007 - Flying with Chickens

"We can't just leave Ogasawara stranded in the middle of Beijing, guys. That's a fucking terrible thing to do." Itaki frowned, but I could tell he knew it was true. With an audible sigh, he nodded his head and waves his arms as if to shoo us towards the booth.

Dr. Blythe was the first one in there, distracting the officers while Aubrey and I peeled Ogasawara away from the glass window, his mouth practically foaming. We managed to get him out of there and into a terminal seat, Aubrey doing most of the work, practically shoving him down. Itaki was an agent of rage when he reached us, and spoke in a low, uncharacteristically aggressive voice. I began to think I got the wrong first impression of him.

"What the hell were you thinking, you old fool! Provoking Chinese customs? What did you do, offer to bribe them? You should know better than anyone that a Chinese man would never accept anything from a Japanese man, especially nowadays!" He slapped Ogasawara's upper arm with the palm of his hand. "Now we have to go to Taiwan and try again, you stupid, inconsiderate..."

While Itaki chastised Ogasawara, I spotted Dr. Blythe waving me over from one of the service desks. He had just gotten off the phone with someone, and turned back to face the service desk lady. She slid a bundle of papers over to Dr. Blythe, and he pocketed most of them inconspicuously. The last one, he handed to me. A ticket to Taiwan.

"We fly out in thirty-four minutes, James. And if you don't mind, we're going to keep this little diversion out of the final draft for our paper." I nodded quickly.

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The flight to Taiwan was short, but cramped, as we huddled in a small cargo plane filled with chickens. The smell was nauseating, and the swaying of the cabin did nothing to alleviate it. Ogasawara was the first to break, as the largest, he swayed the most in the cabin, crushing Itaki into the side of the wall occasionally. There was a bucket provided to us, and he spent no time grabbing and vomiting into it.

Even Dr. Blythe was silent, a miracle if I'd ever seen one. I half expected him to break out into a rendition of "Set My Chickens Free", but even he seemed in poor spirits, swaying and pushing up his wire-frame glasses whenever they slid down. Aubrey had completely passed out, slumped against the bulkhead between the cockpit and our little group. He snored softly, it was a wonder he could sleep at all. Every few minutes the plane would hit turbulence, and his head would bounce off the bulkhead, then slam into it again. He stayed asleep. Qara was the second, and last person to give in. She sheepishly grabbed the bucket, and I turned away for her benefit.

About three hours later, we landed in Taipei, completely broken. I hardly remember arriving, but we must've gotten through customs just fine this time. Dr. Blythe and Aubrey dragged our useless carcasses into the airport's built-in hotel, where we promptly collapsed and slept for the remainder of the day and night.

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