All I want for Christmas is...

When I walked through the doors of the cafe near Wudakou, my friend was already sitting at a table quietly drinking a cappuccino. He acknowledged me with a nod of his head and a wry smile, but the slump of his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes told me he had had a long day.

"Any luck," I managed in the most sympathetic tone possible.

"No," he responded, "I have been running around all day ... Joseph I am exhausted." We both sat for a moment in silence as he blankly stared out the cafe window. Finally, he turned to me and said, "All I want for Christmas is a visa."