Underfunded Adventures Fancy hotels are for chumps.

A week in China is insufficient. We knew this, but it was what we had time for, and funds for, and we had a friend of a friend with a couch and a floor. We let my boyfriend's best friend plan the trip for all three of us - my participation in the mapping and selection of sites was nada. What is benefit of going in blind? It is this: China happened to me. Everything was a surprise. We left from O'Hare to a chorus of well-meaning "don't eat the street meat!". (Spolier alert: I ate the street meat. So much street meat. Skewers of unidentifiable everything.) What we did not know - could not have known, when we were booking our coach fares over Christmas break - was that the First Lady, Michelle Obama herself, would be in Beijing that same week in March. When we landed, Michelle was not there yet, the air was thick with haze, and we headed straight out to the Great Wall, jetlagged and wearing the superhero-style HEPA filter masks we'd acquired, mine a vibrant red. We trudged the Great Wall, gasping, and then were escorted to the world's longest twirly slide, a hammered silver snake that empties into stalls upon stalls of tourist tchotchkes. It was here that we first encountered Obamao - Obama's face superimposed over the most famous pictures of Mao Zedong, and silkscreened onto the fabric of bags, t-shirts, hats. Students of history, we wondered at the implication. But Mao is still loved in China; we learned through confused pantomime that the army green Obamao shirts were meant as an honor. A hope: that he will be a great leader and example for the world. We bought the shirts. Then we went back to the city, crunched some melatonin, and passed out but good. We woke the next morning to blue skies, clear air, a world of people without masks. What was this? We took the train to the Summer Palace, breathing deeply. Cars everywhere - and not just the gleaming German sedans, but a school of synchronized cars, headed right for the palace. Thin and elegant officers in impeccable uniforms seize ropes and herd us all, tourists and locals like, back into the flowering trees and onto the patio of the local shop, the place of water and ice cream. We all stand obediently as Michelle, Sasha and Malia emerge into the blue, blue backdrop, helpers scurrying about. We are astonished. The people with us in the crowd stare silently. We raise our three arms up and wave to our First Lady. The crowd takes note; more hands go up. We all stand together and wave quietly to Michelle.