Tangled Thoughts

Train Ride, Part 1

Christina

October 18, 2011

After flying for almost twelve hours, spending a sleepless night in a Chinese airport, and finally making a connecting flight to Shanghi, Mom, Dad and I arrived at our destination.

I sighed relief. Finally. We were meeting with David and Amanda and together we would all be able to navigate our way, peacefully through China. After a brief meeting over water, and muffins, David and Amanda took us back to where they had been staying. Telling stories along the way. They had been in Shanghi for a few days already. They had mastered the streets of China, found good food – ice cream even! And had the next leg of our trip all worked out.

Or so we thought.

After a brief lunch, a shower, and a quick change of clothes we were off on our next adventure. Unaware that this was really, just the tip of the iceberg. The very start. If even! We attempted to purchase tickets – to no avail. It took six trips across a street, to an ATM, a few phone calls and a bunch of frustration to FINALLY get the money we needed. By this time we were running late, and in order to catch the subway to the train station we would need to hustle. And fast!

Only in Shanghi do they line up patiently while waiting for a means of transportation.

Down the streets we tried to run. Running isn’t something that comes easily when you have 6 bags and everything else that had been accumulated along the way. We arrived, finally, at the train station, and assuming it would be a nice relaxing train ride – we didn’t stress too much. We purchased a few “Cup of noodles” Chinese version for funnies – having been told that there was a “Restaurant cart” on the train, I wasn’t worried too much about what we would eat. Or drink. I was looking forward to a nice train ride through the country side of China. Catching up on lost times with Amanda, and maybe even getting some sleep. I patted my pillow. I was the only one who thought it would be a good idea to bring a pillow.

We saw the number of the train on the board, and suddenly, there were flocks of people pushing to get in line. We weren’t too concerned, we still had over an hour, but the sudden rush of people inspired us to get in line too! Just in case. As we made our way through the barricade and ‘security’ the people started rushing. Running even. Down the stairs to the platform. Even though it was the middle of the day, it seemed dark. We ran with the crowd fearing that we would somehow miss the train that wasn’t scheduled to depart for another 30 minutes. We ran to one car – wrong one. Down the platform we ran. Faster and faster until finally we reached the right car.

But when we tried to get on we were surrounded by a mob. All yelling something and shoving. HARD! We were worried about getting separated, and worried about getting on the train. There seemed to be no order, you push – you shove – you get on. We handed our tickets and tried to step through the narrow doors but every time we tried we would get shoved to the side by some loud person speaking Chinese; who was obviously in a hurry!

Finally, dad blocked the way. Shoving his bag against the hurried crowd and ordering us to “GO!” We all froze. “GO!” he yelled again. We shuffled on and soon were squeezed in between the narrow doors, and other people. It was worse than rush hour on a subway. People didn’t seem to understand the concept of “Haste makes waste” when shoving to get on!

We hurried down the rows. My first thought when we stepped on the train was a feeling of relief; glad that we had made it, and glad that this wasn’t the car we were going to be traveling on. A dark, dingy car, with low lighting, and a smell that lingered. We made our way down the cars, but each looked the same. People scattered here and there. Bags being tossed. Words being yelled. Eventually we made it to our seats – which is when the truth was discovered – we were in a car that was exactly the same as the one we had first gotten on. Dark, dingy, tight fitting, and smelly.

Our “seats” had someone sitting in them too, and after a squabble over “THAT’S OUR SEAT!” and a slight moment of panic, the man who would be sitting across from us for the next 36 hours explained to the people in their language that those were our seats. They got out. We sat down. In what we assumed to be, our seats.

No sooner had the train started off with a lunge and a lout whistle did I start to feel sick. My stomach felt like it had lurched off with the train. I felt light headed, and queasy. “Wheres the bathroom?” I asked, fearing the worse. Amanda and I went off in search. A few rows down there was a door – that opened…to a room with a hole in the ground. The smell that lingered through out the train was magnified a hundred times, and I felt even more ill then that I had before. There was a hole in the ground, and a tiny lever on the wall that when pulled opened the “Hatch” to the tracks. Because of the lurching of the train, and the size of the hole, there was “evidence” that hadn’t made it to the tracks. I turned around. Suddenly sitting in my seat didn’t sound so bad.

“26 hours” I muttered to myself. “One night. One day. And a little more.” I grabbed my pillow, and leaned against the window, drifting off to sleep, hoping to pass some time. Suddenly, I was awaken! Someone was jabbing their finger in me! I opened my eyes and looked around. Mom and dad stood in the row. Amanda glared angrily from her seat across the row and a Chinese woman was jabbing my neck yelling something in Chinese; angrily! I grabbed my pillow. “NO YOU CANT HAVE IT.” I yelled back. Amanda yelled something too. Soon there was yelling from every side. Turns out, I was in her seat. My seat was with David and Amanda and instead of taking that seat, she opt to waking me up, rudely, to kick me out.

I was mad. Amanda was mad. Everyone was mad. I shuffled seats, muttered something else and went back to sleep. What seemed like hours later, I woke again. Only minutes had passed. I looked around, taking in my surroundings for the first time since arriving on the train.

Me…staring at my pillow that had been hijacked!

Knee to knee I sat. Staring directly into the face of three Chinese men. Who sat shoulder to shoulder across from us. A tiny table between us. Amanda and David were shoulder to shoulder with me. There was no room to stretch. No room to move. No room to turn without hitting someone either beside or across from you.

I turned, carefully to see mom and dad in the same situation.

Then I turned to Amanda. “25 hours?” I asked. She smiled, ever so cautiously.

“Actually, its more like 36 hours.”

{To be continued}

Train Ride, Part II

Christina

no comments

October 12, 2011

October 22, 2011

The Train Ride, Part 1

A few hours into the ride, and I was feeling better. Atleast, my stomach was. With the news of being on a train for 10 hours longer than I had originally been told, I wasn’t impressed. But how bad could it be? After fearing blood clots in the leg Amanda and David set off to find the “Restaurant car” on the train. They were gone only a short while.

“Well?” I asked “Should we go eat?” They looked at each other. “How about we wait. Save that for a later time.”

One hour. Two hours. Three hours. Each minute felt like an hour in itself. No where to stretch, no where to move. The day slowly turned into our first night. I was told I was the “Lucky” one. Having the “Only pillow” on board. I quickly reminded my fellow passengers that I was scoffed at for even wanting to bring such pillow! Also? I happened to be lucky because I was by the “Window” at least I could “lean on it.” Somehow, I then became the designated pillow. At one point Amanda leaned on me, and David on her. Talk about a heavy load! At another point I had a pile of legs on me while David attempted to stretch out and sleep. To little avail.

It was a long night, made longer by the fact that someone had turned the A/C off. At first we assumed that we were at a stop – they turned the A/C off when they stopped, but soon it became obvious. We were moving, but the air was not. The train grew eerily quiet. Now, it wasn’t that the A/C actually made the air cool, it simple made it breathable. But now that it was off, all that was left was hot, sticky, and stale air. With no promise of it ever coming back on!

The air was SO thick when the AC was turned off it was difficult to breath. Even at night the temperatures outside were at least 70! David took to the job of “Fanning.” It wasn’t much. But we were grateful for whatever “breeze” we could get.

Night turned to day, and still, there was no air. The train was absolutely silent. As if no one dared to speak, except the man who drove his “Food cart” up and down the crowed rows. Screaming something to the effect of “Allllaaaaeaeaeaaaaaaa” while collecting money and slopping some slop into styrofoam containers. We were hungry. But not THAT hungry. At least, not yet.

Then, a trickle of water. Turned into what seemed to be a flash flood on the train.

In china, it is an accepted fact that children don’t wear diapers. Their clothing is designed to accommodate this, meaning there are portions of the clothing missing, where diapers are absent. Because of this, the kids are free to go whenever they feel the need. And are often washed off in sinks. The sink, happened to be two seats up from us, and at one point during the hot night, a flood of brown muddy water started coming towards us. Because of the heat, people were desperate to stay cool – they were using the sinks so often that they plugged up, and water started coming over the dirty basins. Fearing the worse we attempted to get our bags off the floor. But there was no room to put them anywhere else, and eventually, we had to give up. And pray for the best.

The English /Chinese speaking man, who quickly became our friend, and was often referred to as our “Tour guide” (why we would take a tour on that train was lost on us!) informed us that someone had complained about being “Cold” and so they turned the A/C off. We offered our blanket, telling them to please turn the A/C on or we would surely die. Others felt the same way. With hours still to go, our own water supply quickly vanished, and the trains supply emptied quicker too, now that the A/C was off.

“How about we go to the restaurant.” I suggested to Amanda, hoping to keep her mind of the “Lack of water, and therefore we will all die” thoughts. She burst into tears. “THERE IS NO RESTAURANT ON HERE!” she sobbed. “WHAT!” I exclaimed. “What about the one you saw?” She sobbed some more. “There was only a table. WITH people ON it. And a window. Where the man makes that slop.” She confessed. A hole for a kitchen. A hole for a bathroom. Now. I was worried.

Once the water ran out, we came up with a plan. At most of the stops, there were carts, venders selling water and other random items. Before arriving at the stop however, we came up with a plan. We needed a strategy for no one to get left behind, the train left minutes after arriving, so it was a risk. But one Amanda was willing to take. Thankfully she made it off and back on, with some water, in the amount of time she was given.

6 long, hot, exhausting, and somewhat terrifying hours passed before they finally turned the A/C back on, and once again there was air that was somewhat breathable. Once again there was a subtle chatter. Even the babies started to cry again. Suddenly things didn’t seem so bad, at least we had air!

After sitting for over 12 hours, I suggested a walk. We decided that since we were hungry enough (and overly tired of the food they served: Pickled watermelon rinds, spicy tofu, and rice) we took our “Cup of noodles” to find some hot water. This proved to be a difficult task.

This man dined on many different things that we considered odd. But what really blew us away was when he pulled out a bag of chicken feet and ate them! All but the nails, which he spit out!

There were people laying in the aisles. Sitting on buckets. And some were even standing.

We later found out that what they had bought was considered a “Standing ticket” which meant that they sat wherever they could – in our seats when we weren’t there, on buckets they had brought, on laps, or even the floor – the muddy mess of a flood. At that point, we became thankful for our seats. No matter how hard and stiff they were. We had a seat. And for that moment, it was something. It was more than what some had.

The noodles we soon found out were nothing like we were used to. They were spicy. So spicy our noses burned. Cheap noodles, spices, and peppers were the main ingredients. And oil. Spicy, nasty oil.

We tripped over people, tried not to step on them, and made it back to our seats – where someone was sitting. It was then we realized why earlier people had gotten mad at us for being in THEIR seats! Seats were precious, and we felt almost privileged to have one. But they were not something to be taken lightly.

Even in the midst of everything, we were grateful for what we had. The small things, like a seat. And air!

But we still had over ½ our journey to finish.

It was a long ride. One we were happy to get off. When asked our thoughts at the end, David, Amanda and I all agreed it was probably one of the most haggard rides we had been on. Mom said she would do it again, and dad commented on the rolling green hills that he had seen. We exchanged a look. What hills? What green? What beautiful scenery? What would make THAT worth doing again?

Maybe these were the “Green Hills?”

Mom continued to say that she was glad we had done the ride. For most Chinese people, what we did was something that would be considered “Extravagant.” Most of them purchased the “Cheaper” tickets. The standing tickets. By the time we got off, there were people standing by our seats, leaning on them. There was barely room to stand up if we wanted, and when one of the people sitting across from us would get up – the ones sitting beside them would either lay down for a minute, or their seat was quickly snatched by a standing person. Sometimes the sitting passenger would allow this tired person to stay and other times they would poke them. We were glad to have gotten a seat (and somewhat scared to leave them!) Although at the time, we were just thankful to made it to our destination. Alive.

And thankful, for the small things that we take advantage of, everyday. Things that are considered “Normal” are not so normal in some places. And we were thankful to be given the opportunity, to not only take the trip (no matter how we took it!) and come out alive, and healthy.

Watch out China! Here we come!

Guest Poster: Yoshi

Christina

3 comments

October 11, 2011

I have a secret to tell you all. But first you must promise not to tell anyone. Promise? Ok then.

Last night my person asked me to do a photo shoot with her. At first I was like “All right, sure, Im down for that dog!” plus she gave me these horns…great things to chew on…

But then I realized she had other plans for both me and the horns. I quickly change my mind – I mean, what was she thinking? That Im willing to sacrifice my dignity as a dog and dress up as a cat AND wear horns?!

Oh! The humility!

But I rose above the challenge (or atleast raised my paws above it!) and took those horns off. Take THAT you horns! Im going to RRRRRRRRRRRRRip you to PIECES! Atop my head you shall sit no longer!

The shame was great to bear. Please! Dont look my way!! (Psst…are the horns up there still? I cant see.)

Fine. Take the picture. Make it quick.

What? What did you call me? A LITTLE LADY? I am anything BUT!

You all crack me up! Im not a cat, or a devil, or a little lady! Im a puppy! A silly little puppy who isnt so little! Take THAT!

(You promised not to tell anyone, right? ‘Cause its a secret. Im an UNDERCOVER pup!!)

Who needs words?

Christina

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October 10, 2011

After a long, hard, 35 hour train ride that neither David, Amanda or I thought we would survive (mom and dad were just fine!) we stepped off in Chengdu. Or more like got shoved off at our destination. Happy to be there, ready to start the adventure, but hot, tired, thirsty, and confused. And still having to catch one final trail we were fearing would be just as bad as the last.

While we sat waiting. Tears staining certain faces, scowls pressed firmly on others – a couple walked by and pointed. Pointing us out to their young child. We forced a smile, waved, and went back to sulking on our suitcases. But they didn’t give up. They were persistent for some reason. Wanting to interact with us…complete strangers. Who didn’t even know how to say hello in their language.

A few hours later we boarded the train, and were pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t flooded with sewage, and that the A/C appeared to be working. There weren’t people pushing their way through the crowded seats. Infact, it appeared as if it would be a peaceful, quite, relaxing two hour train.

Ten minutes later, the couple appeared, giant smiles plastered across their faces as they pointed to their tickets, and then to the seats across from us. They waved, smiled, spoke heartily in Chinese and pointed us out to their little boy.

No sooner had the train lurched off did the little boy start to get restless. Sitting for two hours was not in his plans for the day. Chinese or American – it was all the same. He didn’t need to speak English to communicate that he was bored.

Tipping the garbage tray over I hid a piece of plastic underneath, then pulled it out. He smiled. And imitated me. This went on for ten minutes. He begged the woman with him for something until she gave into his whines and popped a piece of candy in his mouth. His eyes smiled. She gave him a few more pieces and whispered something in his ear. He looked at me. Then at his candy, and then handed me the piece he clutched tightly. We both smiled.

For the next two hours we played put the candy in the tray. Toss the candy across the table. “Whered it go?” in both Chinese and English. Atleast, I can assume that’s what he said.

At one point both the man and woman with him disappeared. He didn’t seem fazed, so I didn’t worry. Until they were gone for more than a minute. Thankfully they both returned. And not ten minutes later, they both fell asleep. Leaving the young boy to play “Candy in the dish” with me. And while I wanted to sleep too – after all, it had been a very long 35 hours, I continued to play the repetitive game. I acted surprised every time he “hid” the candy, and his smile grew bigger every time.

One face I don’t think I will ever forget.

The little boy who loved candy as much as I did. Who didn’t speak English, couldn’t understand a word I was saying – and I couldn’t understand his words.

Sometimes words. Are SO overrated.