March 31, 2010 A rollicking adventure aboard Chinese trains
A rollicking adventure in China would not be complete without a jouney through the country in sleeper class.
From the outside, 1.3 billion people is simply a statistic but from the inside, the enormity of chinas population colors everything. I think most of these people were at the west Beijing train station. Not before the station mind you when I needed to get there and all a taxi driver would do is point in a direction and motion for me to walk. Whether by skill or luck the couple I decided to follow from the metro station were going to the train station as well. At first I followed them because they were heading in the straight line the taxi driver indicated I should walk. Then I followed them because the neighborhood got sketchier and that helpful straight line logic was confounded by intersections and giant buildings in the way.
The train station was massive with dozens of arteries clogged by solid moving masses of people from every walk of life. I became one of these and moved with the flow, elbowing people back or holding my ground when congestion inevitably occurred.
Never have I been so greatful for squat toilets: I had the sneaking suspicion that the water sloshing noise from the otherside of the wall from my top tier bunk was a full waste tank. When finally I could hold back no longer from both curiosity and releasing my bladder, I found out that the water sloshy noise was the sink. The toilet is a squat across the cabin hall. Perhaps squat toilets or toilets in general while I travel do not phase me anymore because it was not the toilet arrangement that made me quessy. The squat at least had a running water dial to flood the compartment with water thereby flushing the unit. No, it was not the toilet that got to me. It was the contents of the clogged sink. I had found the place where commuting Chinese went to spit up China in gigantic, loud loegies. If I lived in a place so horrifically polluted, I would probably need to cough up and spit out china too. At least it’s centralized here because once outside, it’s anyones guess. The ground is spotted by spit and the noise of traffic interrupted by drivers and pedestrians hurling big ones en route.
My bed is 2.5 feet from the rounded top of a compartment of 6 beds. The compartment is open to a hall of little seats that fold out of the wall for passangers of a fare class below mine. The carriage is full and almost all are asleep. Luckily there are no snoorers yet. My bed is below the air vent that blows cold air which smells of earth and soil, and the intercom speaker that went off every 5 minutes for the first three hours. That toilet is beside me so the occasional stench greets me. The smoking section is also in this area beside the toilet but on the other side. So far there haven’t been any smokers which shocks me. This is China! everyone smokes by the packs every day!
The combination of train air and China air in general is leading me to make it a priority to buy and wear a surgeons mask. It may make locals laugh but the ones who wear them will understand me completely.
There are four classes of seats on Chinese trains: hard seat, soft seat, hard sleeper and soft sleeper. After hearing of peoples misadventures when they misordered or musunserstood the train system and ended up in hardcseat class – which is not a seat but an open compartment crowded with Chinese from all walks of life, all squished together standing – I opted for the hard sleeper class. The only real difference between a soft and hard sleeper is the half cost of the hard and the lack of reading lamp. Worth it just to lay horizontal.
My bed is up and away from my neighbors and directly across from the open storage rack where my bags sit. They seem secure if only because 12kilos of tied together bags would be incredibly painful to have land on you in a jolting train, not to mention loud. My bed has a sheet, a pillow and a duvet. All are unwashed with candy wrappers on the bed sides from a previous occupant or two ago. Rather than dirty my sleep sack I have opted to wash my already dirty clothes in Xian.
My neighbor across a bed and one down is a motherly lady who just nods and smiles to my “I’m sorry I don’t understand”. I made a friend of sorts with her and we shared my stash of ear plugs.
Early morning greeted me with a harsh pull of my blankets by the fare inspector. They come by twice to check that you have been cleared for your bed/seat. From my bunk I sat serenely watching the chaos unfold below me as people rushed and pushed to get off the train. From my perch with my legs crossed, hunched by the low ceiling clearance I must have looked funny because those Chinese who looked up either laughed or smiled at me. I made it a game where I was as much the spectacle as they were.
From the train depot I walked into predawn Xian. It was too early to tell and the recent rain might be affecting my senses but, if possible Xian is more polluted then Beijing. There is no sky, only predawn purple-brown haze settled into the streets like a low fog.
Traveling! Sent from my iPod
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