It seems that I am the king of the unfinished story. I think I have actually finished typing out only one of my stories so far, but I am going to keep trying, because as I forget, it gets harder to write this stuff down. I just found this half-post in Blogger. I wrote this from an internet cafe in Kunming, the night before we were to return to Hubei by air, Feb 2002. Even then I couldn’t finish, granted, if kept at the same pace, this story will turn into a book.
the train Jan 24 - Jan 26
It was thursday, I had just been working 17 hour days for the past 4 days grading 70 essays so that I could turn in my final grades for the semester. I went to the teachers office and finished compiling all the grades into excel spreadsheets, printed them out, double checked them, and left them on the secratary’s desk. It was 1PM, Valerie and I were leaving on the bus at 4. Rushing home to find Val and Alison waiting for me for lunch, we enjoyed a wonderful last meal in our home of the past 6 months, Huangzhou. I quickly packed for the trip, trying to determin the bare minimum for my month long sojourn. I’d never been on a month long vacation, and I really had no expectations for the upcoming trip, only that it would be warmer as we went south.
The plan was simple, take the train to Kunming, Yunnan. From there we would get our visas for Laos, and head south into the small country for about a week. Then we planned to return to China, to travel through the fabled and diverse province of Yunnan. Starting in the rainforests of the south we would head north, to magnificent mountains at the edge of the Tibetian plateau, eventually returning to Kunming in time to catch our train back to Wuhan. “That should fill up 4 weeks”, we thought. By prioritizing and visiting the things we wanted most to see first, we were confident that our trip would be smooth, relaxed, and we would have no regrets.
We left Huangzhou on time, and nervously sat on the bus to Wuhan, where we would catch our train. I stared out the window wondering what the future would bring. I realised that we knew nothing, only the summaries in our guidebooks and a little bit of Chinese. We would become entirely dependent on other people, many of them strangers, if we were to fully realise our plans. That idea scared me a little bit, as I knew it would stretch my sense of independence, my ability to trust, and potentially get us into a lot of trouble. What I didn’t know is that this ability to trust is what makes travelling such a fulfilling experience.
Getting the train tickets was no simple feat. We were told by numerous ticket offices and travel agents, “Can’t buy any now, come back later, two days.” But after returning we found that the tickets had been sold out. Since that made no sense to us, we kept trying and eventually found a company that said they could get tickets, cheap ones too. As we entered the bustling train station and found our way to the appropriate gate and train car, we were immediately taken aback by the site before us. There was a literal human wedge forcing themselves into the door of the traincar. With little alternative Val and I pushed ourselves right in and rode the human wave into the train. Nothing I have seen could have prepared me for the scene I witnessed on the traincar. It was China: unleashed.
China is an overpopulated country, and in no place is that more apparent than the 4th class train car. Upon being pushed into the car I was presented with a site I can only call - humanity. There were people everywhere preparing for the ride to come. Some were sitting peacefully, others forceing themselves through the crowds. Men were throwing their bags into the overhead racks, women were calming their babies. Valerie and I found the seats written on our tickets and sat down.
The train was a cross section of the majority of Chinese society. Families travelling together, and students returning home for the semester break