A Ride With China's Finest

Yesterday morning I was working my summer job doing tech work at my college. On this morning, like most mornings, I was digging through the back of cabinets of equipment and trying to move cables around when I accidentally cut through a live power cord with a cheap, uninsulated pair of wire cutters. I'm not sure why, but I didn't get shocked at all. There was, however, a good deal of burning and sparking action. I'm glad to be alive.

My 'fray' with death caused me to think back on my time in China. My most potentially crippling anxiety during my time in China was safety. Mostly, I didn't want to grant an exclusive interview to the police, but there were also a few occasions when my physical safety was in danger. Safety is certainly something an American sacrifices in going out into other countries for the sake of the Gospel. But giving up what I consider safety was a wonderful discipline, as it helped me experience the joy of the Gospel more fully. I had a fuller realization that to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

Another realization tacking my anxiety about safety brought me was that there is no reason for the Christian to fear, particularly when faithfully following Jesus. I knew I was supposed to go to China. If God saw fit to kill me there, more glory to Him. It was and is an incredibly freeing revelation.

But before my trip was over, I had one fantastic experience where I thought it was entirely possible I would be killed. When we were traveling through western China, we decided it would be best to hire a driver to take us for a leg of the trip. The children were getting exhausted from the buses and planes, so after we checked into our hotel, we asked them to find a driver for us.

Now, this hotel probably provided the biggest fuss to us checking in. When a foreigner stays at a hotel in China, the hotel is required to report to the government who is there. So, they take your passport, record the information, and send it along. It turns out the hotel was incompetent—probably because they hadn't had foreigners in quite some time—and it took them well over an hour to process our passports. I, more than the rest of the group, was becoming somewhat apprehensive at this. We eventually were able to stay there, and made a deal with a driver to take us to the next city.

So the next day, we brought our luggage down to the lobby, where the concierge directed us toward our van. We asked immediately if it was a joke. Our ride for the day was a sparkling clean, 11 passenger police van, lights and all. Sure, you'll give us a ride. Right to the PSB. As we loaded our belongings, the Chinese speakers in our group began conversation with the drivers. "Are you police officers?"

"No, no, no."
"How do you have this van then?"
"We borrowed it."
Uhuh.

So, we pile in, somewhat suspicious, incredibly curious, and all thinking how amazing of a story this is going to be if it ends well. Our drivers acted suspicious for the first 30 minutes or so of our drive. For the worry wart of the group, their behavior brought the conclusion that it was moderately likely that they would kill us and take our money. (This was completely illogical, by the way.)

It turns out they were just some regular guys who knew someone in the police force who they were able to bribe to borrow the van so that they could drive us to our next city. Their suspicious behavior was on account of their desire to avoid being stopped by a real police officer.

I can't help but wonder what workers in the toll booths thought when they saw a police van with seven Americans in the back. Probably that our drivers had made the catch of the year.