After staying out so late the night before, I didn't get moving any
earlier the next day. Oh well; I have plenty of time in Beijing, and
besides, the smog was just getting worse.
I met Rebecca, Jon, and Kelley for an early dinner at Peter's, the
Tex-Mex place Kelley and I had went to earlier in the week. We all
ordered burritos, and chips and salsa, and drinks...then later,
nachos, then chips and salsa again, and drinks again...we kept
munching and talking until we realized we'd been there for five hours,
and the waitresses were beginning to look like they wished we'd leave
so that they could start cleaning up. We didn't feel as bad about
eating so much once we realized how long we'd been there; we almost
had been there long enough for two meals, after all.
Scorpions on a Stick
Jingzhou; and I had never spent any time around her husband--they had
just begun dating when I left, so it was good to get to know him as
well. As it turned out, they were staying in the same neighborhood as
Kelley and I, so we met up by our mutual subway station. However, we
didn't get on it--instead we walked. It would have seemed like a
long, freezing slog if I'd been by myself, but it didn't seem too bad
at all laughing and talking with friends.
We headed to the Wanfujing Snack Street. We walked along Wanfujing
Dajie, a major, modern street, with upscale shopping malls and bright
lights; nothing out of the ordinary until we came to a decorative arch
leading into a narrow side alley. This little street is far from
ordinary. It's crammed with stalls selling...interesting...snacks.
As in grilled starfish, scorpions, some kind of large grubs, crabs,
whole little birds, snakes, sea horses, whole squids, and that was
just the stuff we could recognize.
Jon and Rebecca had tried stuff before, and I, while I have come a
long way from the picky child I once was, am still not that
adventurous. But I did get some good pictures of Kelley crunching
some scorpions on a stick.
After we gawked for a while at what all animals you can put on a stick
and fry, we headed back to Helen's, the restaurant attached to the
hostel where Kelley was staying, and stayed until two in the morning
catching up; it was one of the best parts of the trip yet. And for my
Mom: since it was so late, Jon and Rebecca walked me back to my hostel
so I wouldn't have to walk alone in the dark. Thought you'd
appreciate that.
Old Sky, Old Temple, Old Friends
Thursday. A little too easy, probably; I didn't get out of the hostel
until nearly three in the afternoon. However, I woke up congested and
with a headache; I blamed it initially on the heater in the room (my
roommates like to keep it nice and toasty), but once I did step
outside I realized it was probably also the smog. The first few days
in Beijing had clear, brilliantly blue skies--but Beijing's famous
smog was descending now. The sky was still blue and the sun was still
shining, but both looked dusty, dirty. The sun seemed weaker through
the haze.
I spent the morning reading (I'm in the middle of an obsession with
Madeleine L'Engle) and catching up on email. I bought lunch from the
little bar in the hotel--some cheesy rice that tasted pretty good, but
probably wouldn't have been quite as good if I could actually taste
it.
Once I finally drug myself out, I headed for the Lama Temple, which
was the major thing on my list from last time in Beijing that I didn't
get to see. However, by the time I got there, it was 3:40, and it
closed at 4:00, so I didn't bother. Another day. However, the
neighborhood across the street from it is the old hutongs (narrow
alleys through mazes of single-story courtyard homes); these have
mostly been repurposed as cafes, little shops, and art galleries; the
street I wandered down seemed to focus on pottery.
About halfway down that road, I came across the Beijing Confucian
Temple, and it was open until five. The temple was begun in 1302, and
it is next door to an ancient college. There were only a few visitors
on this chilly late afternoon, so I had the grounds almost to myself.
The temple and most of the other halls are the typical red buildings
with gold tile roofs and elaborate blue and green painted decoration,
a bit faded and peeling. What interested me most in the courtyard
were the dozens of ancient cypress trees; twisted and gnarled, they
looked to be nearly as old as the temple itself. One of the largest
and most twisted had a sign that confirmed this--it is known to be
seven hundred years old.
In one of the side buildings, a very nice museum detailing the life of
Confucious has been installed. I had never really bothered to learn
any biographical information about him, so I found it quite
interesting; however, I had to skip about twenty years or so in the
middle, as I was running out of time. I just had time to duck over to
the ancient college grounds for a quick pictures of the arched entry
and the main building before scooting out before I got locked in.
I kept walking along the hutong road until I got to another major
street; it was getting dark and cold, so after wandering around a bit
I settled into a restaurant; I had some good tie ban niu rou (slices
of beef and onions on a sizzling skillet). While I was eating, I got
a text from Kelley--Rebecca, one of the people I worked in with in
Jingzhou two years ago, but hadn't seen since, and her husband, Jon,
had arrived in Beijing, so I went to meet up with them, but I'll tell
you about that in the next post.
Wonder if this'll work...
really hard to get blogger to work, even using my proxy, on the hostel
computer. However, that means no pictures. I wonder if I attach a
picture to the email, if it'll post it? Worth a shot, so here goes
nothing...if it shows up (probably won't), it's a picture of a
watchtower on the great wall, and you can see another section of the
wall on the ridge of the mountain in the distance, as well.
Mutianyu
Friday, January 11, 2013
The alarm went off early on Wednesday. 5:30, to be exact, and I just
gave myself a ten-minute snooze twice. I had taken a shower the night
before, so all I had to do was get dressed, although that does take a
few minutes when you're wearing five layers. I quietly left the
hostel room and stepped out of the hostel into the still-dark early
morning. It's not too far to the hostel where Kelley is staying, and
I was to meet her there at seven. I made it a few minutes early, just
as it was starting to get light. From there, we joined a group from
her hostel to go to the Great Wall at Mutianyu.
I've been to the great wall before, two years ago, but to a different
section, Jinshanling. However, it was quite cloudy and foggy when I
went before, and while it was quite picturesque to see the wall
shrouded in fog, emerging from the mist, I also wanted to see it in
bright clear sunlight. For that, we picked the perfect day.
It took us awhile to get out of the city, as we fought morning traffic
and picked up other people from different hostels. Once we got on the
road, the tour guide stood up and gave a long spiel, while most of us
tried to look politely interested. She asked for our forgiveness for
the time wasted getting out of Beijing so many times that actually her
references to it were far more annoying than any waiting time. Most
of us dozed off as soon as she turned her back, until she woke us for
a bathroom break when we were nearly there.
We had three hours to spend on the wall; we took a cable car up from
the area where we parked. The view was spectacular; I'll add pictures
to this post when I can, but it'll probably be at least a week,
because the computer here in the hostel doesn't get along with my
camera. There was still a dusting of snow on the surrounding
mountains, so that they glittered in the light. The wall runs along
the ridges of the mountains, so you can see for miles from up there.
Our walk along the wall took us higher and higher, from guard house to
guard house, and the view just kept getting better as more and more
distant hills became visible the higher we went.
On a Wednesday in January, there were very few people up there other
than our group; we managed to get several pictures with no one at all
in them, or just a few people in the distance, which is always a bit
tricky in a country with 1.3 billion people. With that many people,
it always surprises you a bit to find yourself alone.
The most unusual part of the outing was getting down the mountain from
the wall. Of course, you can hike down the trail, or take the cable
car (ski lift type) back down, or you can take the slide. There is a
metal slide built down the side of the hill, below the cable cars.
It's not straight down, but rather winds its way down curving back and
forth, just as a road would do. You sit on a plastic sled with wheels
at the top; pull the central lever back to slow down or push it
forward to go faster. Altogether, it was over a kilometer in length,
with all the winding back and forth. It looked a bit scary at first,
but it didn't go that fast, and was a lot of fun.
Once we got down, we had an arranged lunch in a restaurant in the
village that obviously is used to such groups every day; they served
all the Chinese dishes that foreigners tend to like, except for the
dish of tofu, which was hardly touched. Most of the group were just
tourists in China, and used spoons to pile food on a plate in
helpings, instead of the normal Chinese way of taking a few bites at a
time with chopsticks; I ate the Chinese way, as did another man at the
table who has also taught in China for some time.
Kelley and I were the last to arrive, although we weren't late, so we
each took a place at a different table. The guy next to me turned out
to be from California originally, but he's lived in New Zealand for
the past two years, working with Peter Jackson's company doing
animating work for The Hobbit. I was impressed, anyhow. Now, he and
his friends were taking a vacation, taking the TransSiberian railway
from Moscow, all the way across Russia to Beijing.
After the big meal, everyone dozed again all the way back to Beijing.
Kelley and I went to our hostels to rest for a while, then met up
again to go eat at Peter's, a Tex-Mex restaurant she'd heard of. I
splurged on fajitas--Mexican food is a treat here in China. They
weren't any comparison to La Fuente, but they were pretty good.
gave myself a ten-minute snooze twice. I had taken a shower the night
before, so all I had to do was get dressed, although that does take a
few minutes when you're wearing five layers. I quietly left the
hostel room and stepped out of the hostel into the still-dark early
morning. It's not too far to the hostel where Kelley is staying, and
I was to meet her there at seven. I made it a few minutes early, just
as it was starting to get light. From there, we joined a group from
her hostel to go to the Great Wall at Mutianyu.
I've been to the great wall before, two years ago, but to a different
section, Jinshanling. However, it was quite cloudy and foggy when I
went before, and while it was quite picturesque to see the wall
shrouded in fog, emerging from the mist, I also wanted to see it in
bright clear sunlight. For that, we picked the perfect day.
It took us awhile to get out of the city, as we fought morning traffic
and picked up other people from different hostels. Once we got on the
road, the tour guide stood up and gave a long spiel, while most of us
tried to look politely interested. She asked for our forgiveness for
the time wasted getting out of Beijing so many times that actually her
references to it were far more annoying than any waiting time. Most
of us dozed off as soon as she turned her back, until she woke us for
a bathroom break when we were nearly there.
We had three hours to spend on the wall; we took a cable car up from
the area where we parked. The view was spectacular; I'll add pictures
to this post when I can, but it'll probably be at least a week,
because the computer here in the hostel doesn't get along with my
camera. There was still a dusting of snow on the surrounding
mountains, so that they glittered in the light. The wall runs along
the ridges of the mountains, so you can see for miles from up there.
Our walk along the wall took us higher and higher, from guard house to
guard house, and the view just kept getting better as more and more
distant hills became visible the higher we went.
On a Wednesday in January, there were very few people up there other
than our group; we managed to get several pictures with no one at all
in them, or just a few people in the distance, which is always a bit
tricky in a country with 1.3 billion people. With that many people,
it always surprises you a bit to find yourself alone.
The most unusual part of the outing was getting down the mountain from
the wall. Of course, you can hike down the trail, or take the cable
car (ski lift type) back down, or you can take the slide. There is a
metal slide built down the side of the hill, below the cable cars.
It's not straight down, but rather winds its way down curving back and
forth, just as a road would do. You sit on a plastic sled with wheels
at the top; pull the central lever back to slow down or push it
forward to go faster. Altogether, it was over a kilometer in length,
with all the winding back and forth. It looked a bit scary at first,
but it didn't go that fast, and was a lot of fun.
Once we got down, we had an arranged lunch in a restaurant in the
village that obviously is used to such groups every day; they served
all the Chinese dishes that foreigners tend to like, except for the
dish of tofu, which was hardly touched. Most of the group were just
tourists in China, and used spoons to pile food on a plate in
helpings, instead of the normal Chinese way of taking a few bites at a
time with chopsticks; I ate the Chinese way, as did another man at the
table who has also taught in China for some time.
Kelley and I were the last to arrive, although we weren't late, so we
each took a place at a different table. The guy next to me turned out
to be from California originally, but he's lived in New Zealand for
the past two years, working with Peter Jackson's company doing
animating work for The Hobbit. I was impressed, anyhow. Now, he and
his friends were taking a vacation, taking the TransSiberian railway
from Moscow, all the way across Russia to Beijing.
After the big meal, everyone dozed again all the way back to Beijing.
Kelley and I went to our hostels to rest for a while, then met up
again to go eat at Peter's, a Tex-Mex restaurant she'd heard of. I
splurged on fajitas--Mexican food is a treat here in China. They
weren't any comparison to La Fuente, but they were pretty good.
Subway and the Temple of Heaven
Thursday, January 10, 2013
After I finally finished up at the visa application place, I wandered across the street to Subway. Now, we have a Subway restaurant somewhere in Wuhan, but it's way over on the other side of the city somewhere inconvenient, so I've never been. I got to really enjoying Subway last summer, so I was happy to have it again. And Subway, fortunately, has not changed their menu to suit Chinese tastes (like KFC, which only has the vaguest resemblance to KFC in the states), and it was exactly as I remembered it. I got my chicken terriyaki with bell peppers and pickles.
After that, I decided I really ought to check some sight-seeing activity off my list, so I went to one of the major ones I missed the last time in Beijing, the Temple of Heaven. During the last couple of dynasties or so (from what I remember, I'm too tired right now to go actually look it all up), the emperor and a sizable entourage would go to this place twice a year, on either the solstices or the equinoxes, I can't remember, to pray for the harvest, etc. etc. etc.
It really was quite an interesting temple; it's built up on a platform, so there's a good view over the surrounding area--I could see mountains in the distance (made me think of being on Monte Stella in Milan, although these were further and not so big), a ferris wheel, several smokestacks, and kites flying in the nearby park. The temple itself is unusual because it is round instead of the normal rectangle. It's also the middle of a huge complex made up of the gardens, full of ancient cypress trees, various gates and temples along the procession route of the emperor (the most important gate has three doors--the one in the middle is for God to enter; it's never opened or used by mere mortals, the one on the right is for the emperor, and the one on the left is for the high officials), and a huge round platform. Supposedly, if you stand in the center of this platform, your voice will be especially sonorous. Several Chinese people were squawking about on it, but didn't seem to think it was benefiting them much. I was too cold to bother at that point; it was much colder that day than it had been the two days before. Any icy wind was blowing, and the platform was both raised and unprotected, so there was no escaping it there.
Thoroughly chilled, I decided that was enough sight-seeing for one day. I headed back to the hostel to warm up for a while, and then went to a nearby restaurant for dinner. I got grouchy with my roommates to turn off the TV (they often keep watching it until after one in the morning), because I knew had to get up at the crack of dawn the next day.
This Kind of Thing Makes Me Nervous
Monday morning bright and, well, reasonably early, I headed to the India Visa Application Center. I thought they might actually employ Indian people, who most likely would speak English, but there were only Chinese people in sight. Fortunately, the most critical ones spoke English. The lady at the the copier and the guy you pay can deal pretty well with sign language.
However, I did not accomplish what I went to do, that is, apply for an Indian visa. Suffice it to say that when you get Indian and Chinese efficiency working together, it is optimistic to expect everything to go smoothly and efficiently. Turns out that there are several needed documents that were not listed on the website. When I complained about this, the girl said matter-of-factly, "Oh yeah, the website. They never update that." Apparently it's never occurred to any of them that someone might need a list of requirements ahead of time. An additional thing is that the requirements are slightly different for someone who is just passing through China as opposed to someone who lives here.
Anyhow, two of the things were things that I could easily print myself, but I did have to call the university in Wuhan and disturb more than one person's afternoon to write and stamp a letter proving my employment and fax it to me. Fortunately, somebody came through for me. However, it was too late in the day by that point to finish the paperwork on Monday.
So, I met a friend, Kelley, who lives in Jingzhou but was traveling in Beijing, for dinner, got the paperwork together, and then gave it another shot on Tuesday. The center was much less crowded on Tuesday morning, and this time everything went pretty smoothly. Now just to wait...it's supposed to take seven business days, which will mean I will get it the day before my flight. It just makes me extremely nervous to have used my grace day I built in at the beginning. If I don't get it on time, it's going to be a huge hassle, and probably involve a fairly large fee, to change my flight. The girl helping me actually asked, "Well, why did you book a flight already? You should wait until you have the visa before booking it." In the next breath, she told me that a copy of my flight booking information showing my dates of leaving and returning was required to GET the visa. Sooo...she didn't get the irony, apparently.
Anyhow, it's all applied for, and now I'm just praying it does come through in the typical seven days...oh please oh please oh please oh please...
Day One in Beijing
Tuesday, January 08, 2013
I arrived in Beijing early in the day; by the time I navigated the
maze of the train station, it was nearly ten. After a short delay to
text directions to someone in Wuhan trying to find a meeting, I found
my way to the subway. I love subways--the most efficient and quick
way to get around in a big city. One of the things I'm most looking
forward to in the future is more and more cities buildling
comprehensive subway networks. Wuhan's new line that just opened has
already opened up a lot of new possibilities for me.
I first found my hotel and left my backpack; I was a bit sleepy after
the slightly interuppted sleep on the train--the bunk was so narrow, I
had to wake up to turn over. I thought about taking a nap, but it was
a beautiful sunny day out, and besides, my two roommates in the dorm
turned out to be quite chatty, so I headed out. I explored a bit of
the area around the hotel--a new shopping street--and then had a
leisurely lunch. I'm rereading the books of Madeleine L'Engle, so I
enjoyed sitting somewhere warm to lose myself in that world for a
while.
Next, I headed on the subway up to the Olympic village from the 2008
games; the Bird's Nest stadium, the glowing blue Acquatic Center, and
several other things are still there, and they still turn on the
lights at night, as tourists still come to take pictures. I hung
around until it got dark to see the lights come on. In the afternoon,
it hadn't felt too cold, since the sun was shining and there was no
wind, but as soon as the sun went down, the cold seemed to seep into
my bones. The river running behind the stadium was frozen solid. I
was glad to make it back to the warmth of the hostel.
maze of the train station, it was nearly ten. After a short delay to
text directions to someone in Wuhan trying to find a meeting, I found
my way to the subway. I love subways--the most efficient and quick
way to get around in a big city. One of the things I'm most looking
forward to in the future is more and more cities buildling
comprehensive subway networks. Wuhan's new line that just opened has
already opened up a lot of new possibilities for me.
I first found my hotel and left my backpack; I was a bit sleepy after
the slightly interuppted sleep on the train--the bunk was so narrow, I
had to wake up to turn over. I thought about taking a nap, but it was
a beautiful sunny day out, and besides, my two roommates in the dorm
turned out to be quite chatty, so I headed out. I explored a bit of
the area around the hotel--a new shopping street--and then had a
leisurely lunch. I'm rereading the books of Madeleine L'Engle, so I
enjoyed sitting somewhere warm to lose myself in that world for a
while.
Next, I headed on the subway up to the Olympic village from the 2008
games; the Bird's Nest stadium, the glowing blue Acquatic Center, and
several other things are still there, and they still turn on the
lights at night, as tourists still come to take pictures. I hung
around until it got dark to see the lights come on. In the afternoon,
it hadn't felt too cold, since the sun was shining and there was no
wind, but as soon as the sun went down, the cold seemed to seep into
my bones. The river running behind the stadium was frozen solid. I
was glad to make it back to the warmth of the hostel.
Rolling Through the Early Morning
I forgot to check exactly when the train was supposed to arrive; it
wasn't printed on the ticket. Probably hoping you won't remember, so
you won't be grumpy with them if it's not exactly on the dot...Anyhow,
I did remember it was nine-something.
About a quarter after eight, I crawled out of my bunk and managed to
arrive at the floor without injuring myself or anyone else. The
early-morning light was shifting from pink to gold; we were still out
in the countryside. We were passing slowly through snowy fields and
scattered wooded areas, so I knew we still had a while to go; we
couldn't be anywhere near the metropolis of Beijing yet.
As we ambled through the frosty rural area south of Beijing, I saw a
think path winding through the fields; an old man with his hands
behind his back was striding along, whether to check on something in
his fields or for his morning exercise, I don't know. A small dog
bounding happily a few yards behind him. Both were silhouetted
figures against the frosty field sparkling in the foggy light. Now
and then, I saw small flocks of sheep, staying close together for
warmth, being guided by shepherds to wherever there was little enough
snow to allow for some foraging. I even saw a few graveyards,
streched along the tracks in the gap before the fields began, or on a
step hillside overlooking road construction--with 1.3 billion people,
most Chinese are cremated these days, and the cemeteries there are
tend to be on land that is otherwise unusable.
The rural landscape was gradually broken by larger and larger
villages; we passed through small factory towns; men at one were
already hard at work--one, on the roof, was calling down instructions
to the other three pacing back and forth for warmth as they worked on
some problem or other. The factory towns had little alleys of houses
with the normal trash-piles at the ends of the rows, but then they
also had, either finished or under construction, high-rise apartments,
ten, twelve, fourteen stories high; from the higher floors you must be
able to see the entire town and a long ways around; nothing else came
close to that height. The high rises seemed incongruous with the
hard-working, ordinary little factory towns, as if they'd gotten
separated from the city they belonged to. But, even in small towns,
something must be done with the population, and this is the most
efficient way to provide housing. Sticking out from the edge of one,
though, was a reminder of the history of these ordinary little towns;
a weather-worn pagoda kept watch over the scatter of houses around it.
We began to see freeways, and each one was busier than the last. We
crossed a bridge over construction projects and a frozen-solid
river--I don't know that I've ever seen a river frozen over. I am a
true southerner. Built into the side of the hill near the tracks,
overlooking all of this, was what seemed to be a dug-out little cave,
with tarps attached to poles creating the front wall. The tarps were
rolled back, and the occupant, a man who looked to be maybe in his
fifties, was standing on a bit of astroturf in the doorway doing his
morning streches and exercises, bending and swinging his arms.
There was less snow as we got closer to Beijing, but more smokestacks,
pouring white billowing steam into the crisp morning air. They seemed
to be building a canal is one place we passed. Parking lots became
more frequent than sheep, and then I was catching glimpses of the
now-blindingly-bright sun through the gaps between high rises and
skyscrapers. We had arrived in Beijing.
wasn't printed on the ticket. Probably hoping you won't remember, so
you won't be grumpy with them if it's not exactly on the dot...Anyhow,
I did remember it was nine-something.
About a quarter after eight, I crawled out of my bunk and managed to
arrive at the floor without injuring myself or anyone else. The
early-morning light was shifting from pink to gold; we were still out
in the countryside. We were passing slowly through snowy fields and
scattered wooded areas, so I knew we still had a while to go; we
couldn't be anywhere near the metropolis of Beijing yet.
As we ambled through the frosty rural area south of Beijing, I saw a
think path winding through the fields; an old man with his hands
behind his back was striding along, whether to check on something in
his fields or for his morning exercise, I don't know. A small dog
bounding happily a few yards behind him. Both were silhouetted
figures against the frosty field sparkling in the foggy light. Now
and then, I saw small flocks of sheep, staying close together for
warmth, being guided by shepherds to wherever there was little enough
snow to allow for some foraging. I even saw a few graveyards,
streched along the tracks in the gap before the fields began, or on a
step hillside overlooking road construction--with 1.3 billion people,
most Chinese are cremated these days, and the cemeteries there are
tend to be on land that is otherwise unusable.
The rural landscape was gradually broken by larger and larger
villages; we passed through small factory towns; men at one were
already hard at work--one, on the roof, was calling down instructions
to the other three pacing back and forth for warmth as they worked on
some problem or other. The factory towns had little alleys of houses
with the normal trash-piles at the ends of the rows, but then they
also had, either finished or under construction, high-rise apartments,
ten, twelve, fourteen stories high; from the higher floors you must be
able to see the entire town and a long ways around; nothing else came
close to that height. The high rises seemed incongruous with the
hard-working, ordinary little factory towns, as if they'd gotten
separated from the city they belonged to. But, even in small towns,
something must be done with the population, and this is the most
efficient way to provide housing. Sticking out from the edge of one,
though, was a reminder of the history of these ordinary little towns;
a weather-worn pagoda kept watch over the scatter of houses around it.
We began to see freeways, and each one was busier than the last. We
crossed a bridge over construction projects and a frozen-solid
river--I don't know that I've ever seen a river frozen over. I am a
true southerner. Built into the side of the hill near the tracks,
overlooking all of this, was what seemed to be a dug-out little cave,
with tarps attached to poles creating the front wall. The tarps were
rolled back, and the occupant, a man who looked to be maybe in his
fifties, was standing on a bit of astroturf in the doorway doing his
morning streches and exercises, bending and swinging his arms.
There was less snow as we got closer to Beijing, but more smokestacks,
pouring white billowing steam into the crisp morning air. They seemed
to be building a canal is one place we passed. Parking lots became
more frequent than sheep, and then I was catching glimpses of the
now-blindingly-bright sun through the gaps between high rises and
skyscrapers. We had arrived in Beijing.
Snow in Xin Yang/Lights Out
Sunday, January 06, 2013
I'm taking the sleeper train up to Beijing; there are rows of bunk
beds, three high. I have the top bunk, unfortunately; the biggest
downside, to me, is that I can't see out the window from way up there.
Well, that and the acrobatics required to actually reach said bunk.
And the fact that you're too close to the ceiling to sit up once you
do get up there. Anyways, it's really not that bad.
Fortunately, there are pull-down benches along the opposite wall, so I
sat there, writing and playing games on my kindle until about nine,
when I decided to lay down and read for a while. I walked around a
bit before settling in; we stopped at a station while I was standing
near a window between the cars. That was the last point of the night
that I saw a sign and knew exactly where we were (well, knew the name,
anyhow, I don't actually know where the town is, so it's not really
useful knowledge or anything...): Xin Yang. And there was already
snow on the ground, four hours north of Wuhan.
At ten on the dot, the lights went out. And everyone immediately
hushed and went to sleep.
Chinese people take lights out seriously. On the sleeper trains I
took in Europe, there was a light switch and the six occupants of a
compartment had to come to an agreement on when to turn the light off.
And just because the lights were off didn't mean everyone was going
to sleep. People would keep talking or going in and out or whatever
they felt like doing. Not so here--people take the sleeper cars to
sleep. Not a sound--if it wasn't for the occasional person who had to
walk down the aisle to the bathroom, you wouldn't know you were on a
train car with sixty-six people plus a few random children. It just
surprises me a bit; a break in the normal screamed phone conversations
and grandmothers hollering at grandchildren. Lights out is serious.
I wish lights on weren't so serious, though. Six is a little early to
my liking.
beds, three high. I have the top bunk, unfortunately; the biggest
downside, to me, is that I can't see out the window from way up there.
Well, that and the acrobatics required to actually reach said bunk.
And the fact that you're too close to the ceiling to sit up once you
do get up there. Anyways, it's really not that bad.
Fortunately, there are pull-down benches along the opposite wall, so I
sat there, writing and playing games on my kindle until about nine,
when I decided to lay down and read for a while. I walked around a
bit before settling in; we stopped at a station while I was standing
near a window between the cars. That was the last point of the night
that I saw a sign and knew exactly where we were (well, knew the name,
anyhow, I don't actually know where the town is, so it's not really
useful knowledge or anything...): Xin Yang. And there was already
snow on the ground, four hours north of Wuhan.
At ten on the dot, the lights went out. And everyone immediately
hushed and went to sleep.
Chinese people take lights out seriously. On the sleeper trains I
took in Europe, there was a light switch and the six occupants of a
compartment had to come to an agreement on when to turn the light off.
And just because the lights were off didn't mean everyone was going
to sleep. People would keep talking or going in and out or whatever
they felt like doing. Not so here--people take the sleeper cars to
sleep. Not a sound--if it wasn't for the occasional person who had to
walk down the aisle to the bathroom, you wouldn't know you were on a
train car with sixty-six people plus a few random children. It just
surprises me a bit; a break in the normal screamed phone conversations
and grandmothers hollering at grandchildren. Lights out is serious.
I wish lights on weren't so serious, though. Six is a little early to
my liking.
And so it begins...
And so it begins...on the road again. I'm standing at the boarding
gate for an overnight sleeper train that leaves for Beijing in fifteen
minutes. I won't be back here for a month and a half. I've been
daydreaming of this trip for over a year now--I can't believe it's
actually happening--or, I hope it is. I won't feel completely easy
until I actually have the visa.
...
I've been, for some unknown reason, listening to ABBA the past few
days. I constantly have on of the songs stuck in my head. While
waiting in line, one of the very silliest was on repeat in my
brain--the "King Kong Song." So, once on the train, that was the
first song I played on my mp3 player. The first song of the
journey--off to an interesting start.
We left the Wuchang station and headed across the river towards
Hankou--hold up. I just saw a guy wearing khaki shorts over red plaid
pants. And judging from his spiky hipster haircut, he thinks he looks
good.---okay, where was I? Oh yes...across the river towards Hankou.
As we approached the bridge over the Chiang Jiang (Yangtze), I saw the
big tower that looks a bit like Seattle's Space Needle, at least to
me, that is one of the most recognizable things on the Wuhan skyline.
It was lit up as it was getting dark fast. I tried to take a picture
of it out the window (didn't work), because it was the first time I'd
seen it. Weird. I'm seeing some of the major sights of Wuhan as I
leave it. I really have been a bit lazy about exploring this
semester. But, it was the same in Jingzhou--the first semester is
spent figuring out the grocery store, Walmart, and the buses to carry
on with every day life; the second semester I explored a lot,
though--it felt like we walked laps around the old city walls. I
think it will be the same here; now that regular life has settled into
a routine, I'll have the energy to wander.
gate for an overnight sleeper train that leaves for Beijing in fifteen
minutes. I won't be back here for a month and a half. I've been
daydreaming of this trip for over a year now--I can't believe it's
actually happening--or, I hope it is. I won't feel completely easy
until I actually have the visa.
...
I've been, for some unknown reason, listening to ABBA the past few
days. I constantly have on of the songs stuck in my head. While
waiting in line, one of the very silliest was on repeat in my
brain--the "King Kong Song." So, once on the train, that was the
first song I played on my mp3 player. The first song of the
journey--off to an interesting start.
We left the Wuchang station and headed across the river towards
Hankou--hold up. I just saw a guy wearing khaki shorts over red plaid
pants. And judging from his spiky hipster haircut, he thinks he looks
good.---okay, where was I? Oh yes...across the river towards Hankou.
As we approached the bridge over the Chiang Jiang (Yangtze), I saw the
big tower that looks a bit like Seattle's Space Needle, at least to
me, that is one of the most recognizable things on the Wuhan skyline.
It was lit up as it was getting dark fast. I tried to take a picture
of it out the window (didn't work), because it was the first time I'd
seen it. Weird. I'm seeing some of the major sights of Wuhan as I
leave it. I really have been a bit lazy about exploring this
semester. But, it was the same in Jingzhou--the first semester is
spent figuring out the grocery store, Walmart, and the buses to carry
on with every day life; the second semester I explored a lot,
though--it felt like we walked laps around the old city walls. I
think it will be the same here; now that regular life has settled into
a routine, I'll have the energy to wander.
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