Train No. 2249: Hangzhou to Shangrao
ON A TRAIN, Zhejiang/Jiangxi — “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses.”
The scene at the Hangzhou train station has always reminded me of these famous words. For a major transportation hub, thousands of people sure seem to be going nowhere. They sit on the pavement, on luggage, on each other. Just waiting. Those with tickets step right over them.
My seven-hour, RMB 49 ($6) train ride from Hangzhou to Shangrao was comfortable enough. The lady who sold me my ticket said the train was air-conditioned, and at times during the trip it seemed as if it actually was. And I had a seat, which is not guaranteed along such routes. The trip went by rather quickly.
I imagine the same was true for my car companions, whose attention was occupied, almost constantly, with watching me. There were the usual looks, stares and whispers, and more than one person shouted “Hello.” But it wasn’t until I took out my Pocket PC to do some writing that the crowd gathered, peering over my shoulder. My every click was followed by a dozen curious eyes. I decided against taking out the foldable keyboard for fear that one of my admirers might faint.
I took a walk from car 15 to car 9, the meal car, with a Zhejiang University student who picked me out from the crowd — not difficult — to practice his English. As we walked through the aisle, over legs, over people, one man stood up to measure his height to mine. In the meal car, I met a German family, who had to be the only other foreigners on the train. They confirmed, to my surprise, that the beer on board — something called “Blue Anima” — actually passed the German taste test.
Back in car 15, I was seated amongst an extended family and near a man with an orange and red duffle bag that read “PLAYBOY: AMERICANLEGEND.” We communicated a bit, through various means, but my favorite conversations were the ones I couldn’t understand. A cute 7-year-old Chinese girl talked and talked and talked even though she knew I couldn’t understand a word. She would pause, now and then, to say something in Chinese I could understand: “I speak too fast for you.”
I gave her my business card, which she seemed to treasure. But I haven’t gotten any calls from a fast-talking Chinese girl yet.
Click here to view photos.
Other thoughts from the road …
On Arthur: Arthur was a great travel companion: easygoing and adaptive, curious and inquisitive. He was not afraid to ask questions of strangers. He wants to know why things are the way they are, instead of merely accepting the status quo, which is how I envision the great majority of my former students reacting in similar situations. (Arthur’s parents are also unique. While we were in Tiantai, they never called once. This must be some sort of record for Chinese parents.)
Arthur also appeared more conscious of cleanliness than I during our stay, picking hair from his $2-a-night bed, making sure to lay all of his belongings on plastic bags, instead of the various surfaces of the room. As much as I can, I try to ignore such details, especially in rural regions of China. “It won’t kill you,” I said to Arthur more than once.
But McDonald’s might. Arthur eats “Western” food more than I do. In Tiantai, we went to a coffee house. He drinks coffee — I don’t. For my last lunch in Hangzhou, I left it up to Arthur. I ended up with double cheeseburgers from McDonald’s.
On language: While we were in Tiantai, just three hours from his hometown, Arthur was often unable to understand what the locals were saying. Zhejiang, like most Chinese provinces is home to several different “dialects” — which really amount to different verbal languages that use the same Chinese character system. But three hours is nothing. When Arthur went to a high school just 40 minutes outside of Hangzhou, he couldn’t understand many of his classmates.
Many Chinese are multilingual from a very young age, before they even think about studying English. Most speak Mandarin or Cantonese and a little bit of a bunch of dialects. Arthur’s grandparents speak Wenzhounese. His mom speaks Shanghainese. His dad speaks Hangzhounese. Arthur speaks a little bit of all of them. He warned me that I was going to run into many language difficulties during my trip, especially in the south, where few people speak Mandarin. I told him about my trip to Guangxi in 2003 and the fact that broken Mandarin seemed to work OK. He looked shocked.
“But in Guangxi, they speak very poor Mandarin,” he said.
“Well,” I replied. “So do I.”
On culture: I have entered the world of small towels, straw mats and hard beds. For bath towels, Arthur and family use what Americans would consider hand towels. I’m not sure why, but I have encountered this phenomenon in other parts of China, as well. Perhaps a reader can explain. Small towel. Plus humidity. I could pat myself down all I wanted — I never got dry.
I slept on Arthur’s bed, which is basically a straw mat stretched taut over a wooden bed frame. It has a little more give than the floor, but not much, which is why Arthur actually prefers the floor. “The bed is too soft,” he said. Here in Jiangxi, I am sleeping on my student Gerry’s bed, and there is no give at all (I put a folded towel under my hip while sleeping on my side). There is a mat on the bed, however. Arthur explained to me these mats make it cooler during the hot summers. There are even small mats for the pillows. I explained to Arthur that we don’t use straw mats on our beds in America.
“No straw mats?” he said, confused.
“Nope,” I said.
“Well then, are they bamboo?”
Another quote from Arthur: As I was putting on underarm deodorant: “What’s that?” (Same reaction to dental floss.)
One more thing you probably wouldn’t see in America: I had a chance to do some laundry at Arthur’s house. And, hanging on the clothes line, drying alongside the shirts, underwear and socks? A fish tail.
Sorry that this post was a little rushed. I’m hot and sweaty in an internet bar in Hengfeng, Jiangxi. And I’m expected to play badminton soon … so I had a deadline of sorts. Plenty of stories to tell from my stay here in rural Jiangxi. I will try to write some tomorrow. You’ll have to wait for the photos, though. This computer is not quite as convenient as Arthur’s.
8 Comments
Dan,
I do appreciate your courage to get around China under such hot weather.Imaging that you are sweating all over with your funny smile.I bet you are having much fun and new feelings about our beautiful rural places during your trip .Wish you lucky all the time .
Already this is a very exciting read. I too “wish you lucky all the time”!
Dan,
Great blog! I’ve been tracking your progress in China since the first year you got there, and your blog has yet to cease to amaze me everytime I visit it. Keep up the great work! Loving the entries…keeps me amused!
Oh, I hope you don’t mind that I’ve posted your blog’s web address on my online journal. You’ve got great work here, and I believe more people should know about it! If anyone’s curious, my url is: www.livejournal.com/users/asiandream24/
Enjoy!
Once I told one of my classmates, who is from Zhejiang province, that I couldn’t understand Shanghainese—I am from Hubei, he seemed very surprised, and said “You can’t understand Shanghainese! To me, Shanghainese sounds just like Mandarin!”
I couldn’t imagine what his dialect would be like if Shanghainese is similar to Mandarin.
This was a good read, Dan.
Nice web and hope your travel can be ended in a best selling book which will reflect every aspects in a unique way.
But…do you think that the ex-president will still have the huge market for that book now if he has already published every page of the book on the Internet?
want to see the pics about jiangxi~~~~^_^
You have gone so much furhter than I thought you would have by now and it reads like you are having quite an adventure. Stay safe.