Welcome to China!

Minneapolis to Toronto to Beijing. 16 hours of being trapped in a metal tube. It was a looong flight. I was happy to be seated next to a friendly elderly Chinese couple, whom filled my head with endless knowledge of China.
Flying over the Arctic, the plane finally touched down in Beijing, the door opened and all the recycled dirty air spewed into the Beijing sky.

 The plane was filled with 95% Chinese. All 12 of the foreigners skimpered off to the comfort of their tour guide. I, on the other hand, was left to fend for myself. I would have to navigate myself through this city of 13.5 million, all on my own. This is what being a real traveler is all about. I was exhausted from the lack of sleep along the journey but the excitement of being in strange lands livened me up. This was a challenge, and I'm a sucker for them.
I breezed through customs and picked up my 35 lb backpack. First things first, I made a beeline to the ATM. I need me some yuan!
Next, finding my hostel. This had me a little nervous. Armed only with a small, hard to read map that I had printed off at home, I set off.
I was looking for the subway, but ended up taking a bus that I thought some Chinese lady told me would take me where I wanted to go. First off, I need to say that English is almost nonexistent here. If you do come across someone who speaks it, it's very broken and minimal.
I bopped on the bus for over an hour before we came to my stop. Along the way, the bus filled with the group of 12 tourists stopped next to us. The bus was illuminated inside and I could see the guide talking into a microphone, the tourists resembling zombies.
I chuckled to myself. THAT would be the easy way. But that's just not my style.
I slung on my backpack and skipped off the bus into an unknown world. I had no idea where I was on the map and it was dark out. SO I decided to take a taxi. I flagged one down, I pointed at the map where I wanted to go, he shook his head no and sped off, almost taking my arm with him. Um... Ok?
I was used to rickshaw drivers doing this to me in India. I shrugged it off and hailed another cab.
This time it was a cute old Chinese man. I opened the door and started to point at the map, but he was frantically gesturing for me to get in. I fumbled with my bag as he grew more anxious. Ok ok I'm getting in! It was a busy street, and he wasn't allowing me to take the time to put my backpack in the back seat. I thought 'how's this going to work?'
I squeezed in next to my bulky pack in the front seat, more like sitting half way on top of it. My head was actually rubbing on the ceiling of his cab. Guess I won't be wearing a seat belt. I pry my hand out from between the door and grab my iPhone. I point at the name of my hostel written in Chinese on my phone. I was prepared. He pulls over, puts on his reading glasses (this litttle old man was adorable) and looks intently at my phone. I'm watching him with a smile. I'm secretly praying at this point that he knows where it's at. His eyes light up and he speeds off. He speaks no English, except for one word, "hallo!"
He keeps looking over at me and laughing because I'm sitting so uncomfortably on my pack. This, in turn, makes me crack up, and we laugh the entire way to the hostel.
It's nice to know that no matter where I am in the world, a laugh and smile is always understood.
My eyes are glued to the window, watching Beijing whiz by, soaking it all in, trying so hard to figure this city out. We finally stop and he points down an alley and says  the only word he knows, "hallo"!
He keeps pointing and yelling "hallo!" Oh geez, he's making me nervous. "hallo!" Every time he says it I keep looking at him like he's going to tell me something. "hallo!" I pry myself out of his cab and make my way down the alley. Yes folks, I know it's not wise to walk down a dark alley at night in a foreign country, but did I really have a choice? After 5 minutes I arrive safely at my hostel and I'm sleeping the second my head hits my pillow after being awake for 28 hours. Uff da.