Life is simpler when you have a mission. You don’t have to think for yourself. The motivation 
comes from the powers-that-be, from somewhere above, from up “on high.” The Man gives you the order and you take it. You take it like a man. You think of the men in the movies who came before you: John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, James Bond. They never let the Man down. It may not be easy, but they get the getting when it needs to be got. The word. The mission. Everything else comes second.
The Assignment
I receive the mission the morning after I wake up on the train. The sky outside is dreary with the threat of rain. This threat is to stay with me throughout most of the week during my time in Liaoning. I look around the compartment on the train. It has emptied considerably. My friends from the night before have already deboarded during my sleep. It’s quiet and still, with only the sounds of slurping noodles and the rocking of the train on the tracks. The message comes almost unnoticed. It’s from Simon. The Man.
“If you should go to Dandong, contact Mrs. Qu, the policewoman I met from my trip there. She promised to introduce me to a girl. I want to see this girl.”
I read the message and know that it is my mission to find this Mrs. Qu and her girl. I have no idea how old this policewoman is. I don’t even know if she remembers Simon or not, but it’s worth a try. I send a message back to Simon telling him that I will contact Mrs. Qu. Now that I have accepted the mission, I realize that failure is no longer an option. I send a message to Policewoman Qu, referring to Simon in his codename of “Tintin (pronounced ‘dingding’ in Chinese). She responds almost immediately.
“Tell me when you arrive. I will come and meet you.”
The mission seems to be simple enough…almost too simple.
A diversion
Like a sentinel guarding the gates of Hell (or Heaven), Chairman Mao’s statue greets me as soon 
as I deboard the train in Dandong, dwarfing all other lifeforms at his feet. He gestures his arm outward, beckoning me to come into the folds of his city, his country, his world. The color of the statue is dark brown, and the light of day is still ominous. A mist envelops my face.
I decide not to contact Policewoman Qu immediately, so as to build up the suspense to our first meeting. A mission can’t be accomplished without some hurtles to overcome. Plus, she’s a policewoman. I know that she told me to contact her before I arriving, but I’m certain that she was just saying that to be courteous. She has a job, a husband, a child I’m sure. She has responsibilities that I don’t have and don’t know about. She wants to show me the red carpet as quickly as possible, seeming eager enough to meet with me. Simon met her when he was taking the train from Dandong to North Korea earlier this year. Separated by the width of the Yalu River, Dandong lies just opposite of the mysterious country. Policewoman Qu’s job is one of the responsible officers on duty overseeing the crowds that cross over from the Chinese side into North Korea.
While Mrs. Qu’s mission is a daily one that seldom varies, I am new at taking orders and so can
easily be divereted. She is my contact and I need to rendevous with her in order to get to the Simon’s girl, the ultimate prize and goal for my assigned task. However, the pages of history are to come between me and Policewoman Qu. I know that Dandong is the site of the only museum in China devoted to the U.S./North Korean War. It’s a war that I know little about, and I feel compelled as an American to go and visit the museum where I am the enemy. I must surmount this monumental hurtle before meeting Policewoman Qu. I must head into history’s territory and enemy grounds, brushing shoulders with the “War to Resist American Aggression and Aid North Korea.” Veering away from the morning’s mission, I stubbornly take a bus to the war’s museum and monument after a quick early meal of greasy eggplant. When I see the phallic stone symbolizing the Chinese volunteers’ army sacrifice in the war looming above me, I wonder if I will overcome this first hurtle. The mission drifts farther and farther back into the recesses of my brain. The mist becomes heavier and heavier. I can feel the my clothes beginning to bog me down. It’s not even midday and my bag is starting to feel heavy on my back. I walk up a lifelessly colored stairway closer and closer to the monument at the top. War stands before me. I must confront the history that I never knew. Along with the ever increasing mist in the air, the mission has evaporated for the time being, and life suddenly becomes much more complicated…
