First, all apologies for those who have checked in to find that I have not posted since Christmas. I am truly sorry. A lot has happened and I intend to catch you up. I attribute the lack of entries of late to my much needed digestion of the incredible trial that I, Li Chen, faced during my blogging hiatus and the need to be a month or so removed from it to relate it to you without great discomfort.
Li Chen and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Train Ride
Part I - Spring Festival
This is a recount of Li Chen's odyssey from Northern China to Bali, Indonesia. The story is more for my own recollections in years to come than it is to delight and abhor you. It is a long tale, but abbreviating it would not paint an adequate picture of the trials and tribulations encountered (and overcome).
Spring Festival is one of two national holidays in the PRC (the other being Mid-Autumn Festival). During these times, migrant workers are allowed to leave their dormitories at their respective factories and return home. Spring Fesitval has been called the greatest human migration of our time and with good reason. With over a billion people in the country and most of them moving at once, it is easy to understand the superlative. If you have never witnessed it, you can only speculate at the masses of humanity on the go at one time. This holiday is one in which the families reunite and get to spend time together. Everything closes for several days while families enjoy eating dumplings, watching the national telecast and catching up. Needless to say, with his family thousands of miles away in America, Li Chen realizes that this holiday would not be one he could partake in. He would be left to sit in his very cold, unheated room without food for a few days.
An improbable and impromptu plan was hatched to meet up with a very old friend who happened to be touring Southeast Asia and who would be residing in the town of Ubud on the Island of Bali, Indonesia at the time of Spring Festival. Driven by a need to sleep without donning every item of clothing he possesses, to breathe clean air, swim in the ocean, ride a motorcyle in a tropical paradise and to spend some quality time with good friends, Li started the wheels in motion.
Li purchases a plane ticket after several hours of hunting for a reasonable fare. He can save over 400 USD by flying out of Hong Kong (considering that this amount is almost double his monthly take from his youth subversion program, it is a bargain indeed). A train ticket to Guangzhou (departure point for Hong Kong) is only a mere 30 USD. In addition, Li thinks to himself, 'Great, I will get to see a big chunk of China while riding the rails.' Little did he know that this would be the start of one of the most trying times in his short life.
In China, a passenger may purchase a long distance train ticket five days before departure. Li, ever conspiring to beat the crowds, heads to the train station at midnight, five days prior. He is not as clever as he hoped. Arriving at the station, he sees that the crowds are lined up outside the large ticket hall, apparently others concocted the same scheme. With a poorly handwritten request for a sleeper berth to Guangzhou station in his pocket he sets about waiting. For two long hours he waits only to arrive at the window to be told that there are no trains to Guangzhou. Resigning himself to the fact that he cannot argue a point he knows to be true, and dealing with the indignation of being turned away becasue he is a foreigner, Li heads home in the wee hours to regroup.
Plan B. The following day, back to the train station. This time with a translator at his side, Li is confident he will succeed. Another two long hours waiting in the masses again proves unfruitful. Plan C. Wtih translator in tow, they head to a branch office (actually an unmarked window on the side of a building on the other side of town). Another two long hours waiting outside only to be told that there are no seats and he must stand for the 26 hour journey; unacceptable. This wait may have been shorter than the times endured at the station, but the window closed at 12 so the workers could have lunch, for 30 minutes. Apparently rotating lunch times have not yet made it to this corner of the world. Frustrated, cold and anxious about not being able to gain the distance South, our hero heads for home to come up with an alternate plan.
With all other modes of travel considered and rejected (the most viable being his bike), Li decides to give it one more go. Plan D. This time with a different translator who is more confident she can get results. Back to the random window at Building X, careful to time the arrival so as not to coincide with lunch, they find their place at the back of the line. Another two hours and they mercifully are at the window. For those who are counting, Li has spent a total of 8 hours waiting for one ticket. This time however (no reason provided because it is not known how tickets can magically appear from one day to the next) Li is successful and obtains the final seat (not a sleeper berth, a seat) on the train. Initally, Li was hoping for a sleeper to doze away the kilometers South. Beggars can't be choosers.
Part II – The Odyssey Begins
At 5 am on Friday January 25th Li set out for the train station with a small backpack, braving the cold wearing only a shell for a coat and two t-shirts. He knew that he would be in a much warmer climate soon and did not want to carry excess clothing. The station was packed as usual and at 7:30 his train arrived at the platform. He located his aisle seat (car 4, seat 22) and evicted the person currently occupying it. The man got up once Li produced his ticket but did not/could not move very far and had to stand in between the benches as the train was booked solid with people who were existing throughout the aisles and in between the seats. Moments before the train began to move his two bench mates showed up.
A husband and wife, loaded with luggage that easily exceeded their combined weight and size. They stood aback in awe for several moments at the foreigner who would be sharing their seat and reexamined their ticket stubs as well as Li’s to make sure there had not been some mistake. The man was slight and probably in his late 30s dressed in a brown blazer and a permanent grin. When he spoke, he did not speak any Mandarin as Li is somewhat proficient in, but spoke in Cantonese, which could have been Swhaili for all Li understood. This was a man from the South of China and they would be riding together for the long haul. This became obvious when he gleefully revealed his ticket to Li and it showed he was headed home to Guangzhou.
They proceeded to stow as much as possible in the already full overhead racks seeming to move as many other bags as possible so that theirs could remain above them. This caused several shouting matches with other passengers, but the man continued undaunted. The small man repeatedly removed his shoes to stand on the bench and the top of the seat to smash one item after another into the racks while stepping on Li and hitting him time and again with an oversized potato sack bags. Bear in mind that our hero had no where to go as the crowded aisle was to his right and two standing passengers in front of him.
After a short time, the man began an hourly cigarette vigil. The first time he got up, he thrust a brown cigarette into Li’s face, spoke rapidly in smiling Cantonese and gestured for him to move to the space in between cars for a smoke. You must understand that in China you cannot deny a person who is offering you a smoke. No, is simply not an option as they will continue to wave it in front of your face and insist until you give in. Li lasted a few rounds before this smiling, diminutive man pushed him from the seat and toward the doors. This initial cave in on Li’s part was to be one of his greatest mistakes of the trek as from then on, every hour on the hour, the dance began anew and they would proceed to push, sidestep and jump their way past standing passengers until they reached the designated smoking area. The little man and Li were now best friends.
The first day dragged on with the train stopping frequently at almost every station we came to. Li found some solace in his i-pod and one of the three books he brought with him. This was despite the fact he had no leg room because of the standing passengers and also being constantly hit by passengers moving up and down the aisle to fetch water for their noodles. In his mind, the countdown had begun. Li kept time by counting the hours back from 26, the duration of the ride, and felt more and more hopeful that he would soon be in paradise with each passing hour.
At 6, dinner was served on cart being pushed through the aisle. It consisted of a styrofoam container filled with rice and small handful of vegetables. "Wanfan, wufan, mifan, wu quai" (translation - dinner, lunch, rice, 5 yuan") the man bayed as he pushed the cart through the throngs. Not exactly gourmet, but at least Li would only have to eat one or two of these meals before the ride was over. The day turned into night, Li had no clue as to how much Southerly progress had been made that day but it did not feel like a lot. The cigarette vigil was observed faithfully and Li began to feel sleepy and nauseous.
Considering the packed car, this would figure to be a long night indeed. Li took his small backpack from the racks, put it on his lap and tried to rest his head on it. At least with his eyes closed, Li could not see the small man waving the hourly cigarette in front of his face. Sleep did not come for more than 15 minutes at a time, if at all. As passengers relentlessly moved in the aisle and each one would hit him as they passed by and the people standing in between the seats had simply sat down on their luggage to try to catch some z’s.
The sleepless night dragged on, the contdown continued, and then about 3:30 am on Saturday morning, there was a loud noise and the train jerked and shuddered. It had somehow broken down…
Part – III The Waiting
At about 4 am, the train pulled off of the main set of tracks to allow others to pass and repairs to happen. Here they sat, without heat or electricity until 1:30 that afternoon….over 8 hours of no Southerly progress. His i-pod, books (by now he had moved onto the second novel of three) , and a repeated mantra of the Serenity Prayer were how Li passed the time. Also the brown cigarette vigil from the little man marked each passing idle hour turning Li a bit green. He had managed to stave him off occasionally but lost the battle more often than not.
“Wanfan, wufan, mifan, wu quai,” at noon the cart man came and went. The passengers ate, then waited some more. At 1:30, the lights turned on, the heater whirred back to life and the train started again. They travelled for about 20 minutes and then stopped in the middle of nowhere again off of the main line. Li had no idea why the train was stopping again, but this time we were idle for only 4 hours. This intermittent pace of 20 minutes of travel, several hours of not, continued for the rest of the day and into the evening.
Frustration. Anticipating some sort of travel woes, Li had allowed for one extra day before his plane departed Hong Kong. He knew that he had to arrive in Guangzhou by no later than Sunday at noon, if he had any hope of catching his 6:30 pm flight to Bali. Li had no idea how much longer it was to Guangzhou but knew from a map in his travel guide that they had still not hit the half-way city of Wuhan in Hubei Province.
At about 11 pm that evening, the train finally arrived in Wuhan. Our hero was halfway there and his hopes of making it to Guangzhou were lifted. Many of the passengers disembarked and the train reloaded with fresh faces. The thinning of the crowd en route to Wuhan had allowed some leg room and reduced the standing passengers considerably. Wuhan station restocked the cars and again, space was at a premium.
As the train began to move away from the station, a police officer appeared at the door to the car. He was being followed by a man with an arm-load of newspapers and behind him was another cop and three conductors. From what Li could gather, the man was trying to sell the papers which contained news (non-government sanctioned) of the worst storm to hit central China in 100 years. Illegally selling papers/propaganda is not taken lightly. The man argued with both of the policemen vociferously and was beaten severely all the way down the aisle. He would seek cover out of the aisle in between seats only to receive another blow to move him along. Li was not sure what happened to him.
Li spent another sleepless night sitting upright with his backpack, being battered by aislegoers. The train continued to run for 20-30 minutes and then stop for several hours at a time. When the sun came up on Sunday morning, the train was again stopped in the middle of nowhere but this morning, there was a coat of ice on everything. From what Li could gather from several college students who wanted to practice their English with him, a railroad power line had broken during the storm. Most unfortunate was that the train was an electric train and therefore was stopped until repairs could be made.
I-pod, books, Serenity Prayer, “Wanfan, wufan, mifan, wu quai,” brown cigarette vigil, 30 minutes of travel several hours of idle, life did not change for Li Chen on the train. The little man continued to be undeterred to speak to Li even though all other conversations had resulted in a shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the head in non-comprehension. The grin never left his face once. He continued to stand on the seat rearranging luggage and sitting atop the seat holding court with those within earshot.
Part IV – Mutinies
Sunday dragged on and the passengers began to get restless. Having been on the train now for over 2 days was beginning to take its toll. Slow progress brought them closer to Changsha, one of the last cities before Guangzhou but still about 500 kilometers from their destination. By now Li had consumed two of his books and had started in on the third. The i-pod batteries were running low and had to be conserved for the nighttime when it was needed to feign sleep. Li had missed his flight and the tension of not making it to Hong Kong in time turned into wonder about the possibility of rescheduling and at what cost.
At about 5 pm Sunday evening, the train stopped at a very small town station just north of Changsha. This was not a scheduled stop for passengers to get on and off, but was a convienient place to let other faster trains pass by. After waiting for two hours, a man decided to take matters into his own hands. Through a translator, Li learned that the man lived in a house that was just beyond the railroad wall. The man dropped his window and started to climb out. A conductor ran over to him, and dragged him back into the train causing a heated argument. “That is my house, I want to get off here, I can see my house” he yelled. Unflinching, the conductor stood guard over the man for the next two hours until the train began to move. Rules are rules on the train, and you get off where your ticket says you get off, even if it means travelling another 20 km south to the next station and having to back track.
Another event began to unfold on Sunday that only added to the stress and discomfort of all the passengers. The train had run dangerously low on both food and water. The toilets would no longer flush and passengers were forced to roam the train trying each hot water spigot to see if there was anything left. The toilet situation, need not be mentioned but one can only imagine the state of affairs in the head. The rice cart man no longer made his rounds.
At this time, men began walking up and down the aisles calling for an uprising and that they must speak to the conductors. When the conductors were finally located, they heard the pleas and decided to try and placate the masses. “Dinner is free tonight,” the conductors announced. Temporary jubilation swept through the cars and all the passengers shuffled down to the dining car. With about 300 people left to make it to the dining car, a rumor filtered back to where Li was waiting. The train had run out of food.
Immediately Li heard the shouts of an older woman coming unhinged. She was screaming in the face of the conductor who had just let on that there would be no free dinner (or anything else for that matter) for the several hundred passengers who were in the forward cars. This was tough to take as the paltry meal of rice and a few vegetables had become the highlight of Li’s existence on the train.
Finally at about 8 pm Sunday the train pulled into Changsha. Passengers were not allowed to disembark even to go and get some food from one of the cart vendors along the platform. Li noticed that there were some passengers who were walking down the aisle with a fresh bowl of noodles. Intrigued, he decided to investigate. The vendors, not wanting to lose business and taking full advantage of the train’s lack of supplies pulled the carts alongside the train, raised prices high enough to put their child through college and began to pass food up to the windows. This was done by passengers standing on the sink adjacent to the toilets and squeezing their torso out of the small window. Cash was dropped and a steaming bowl of noodles (regularly 2 yuan, now 25 yuan) was returned with the smile of a vendor who had just matched their yearly income in one night.
At about 11 pm on Sunday night, just South of Changsha, the train emptied considerably and the train started running along at a normal pace. One of the few remaining people who could still speak English, explained to Li that the train had only one more stop before Guangzhou in the final 400 km and they would make the run as fast as possible. Apparently Li’s train was one of several hundred on the primary North – South rail line that was caught in the storm. Li’s train needed to get out of the way and the solution was to run as fast as possible until they reached their destination.
Part V – Arrival and Departure
With many seats empty, Li was allowed to stretch out and get his first few hours of sleep in 3 days. At his first stirrings from sleep, he came fully awake about 2 hours North of Guangzhou to the little man nudging him with another brown cigarette and a grin. The train finally arrived at Guangzhou station exactly 72 hours after leaving Baoding City. Li got off the train Monday morning at 7:30 am and never looked back. The little man with the grin however did insist on getting Li's cell phone number, for what purpose Li will never know. Conversation was never the cornerstone of their relationship.
At the Guangzhou train station, a truly eye-popping mass of humanity was assembled outside. You see, Li was on the front end of the migration and while the crowds were significant on the train, the mob at one of the largest stations in the country truly showed the incredible size of this population. Never before had Li seen so many people, who were all forced to delay and/or cancel plans due to the storm. Wading through the crowd that seemed to be well in the hundreds of thousands, Li hailed a cab and headed to the other train station in the city that provides service to Hong Kong.
A ticket to Hong Kong was easy to acquire and the train departed 30 minutes later. Another 2 hour, uneventful and comfortable ride led our hero into the city. From there he made his way by bus to the airport by about noon, where he was able to reschedule his flight for that evening. Waiting in the airport, Li discovered an oasis in the form of a Krispy Kreme donut stand. Perhaps he was hallucinating badly from the train rides, but when he asked for a half-dozen assorted, he was supplied with a heart-clogging delight that he gobbled down as fast as he could. The tides were changing in his favor.
The final legs of his journey took him from Hong Kong to Brunei (with a 2 hour layover) and then on to Denpasar, Indonesia. The plane landed at 1:30 am Tuesday morning. Clearing customs, he went to the taxi stand where he met up with an American (introduced as Slow Rick) who spends half his time in San Diego and the other half in Ubud, Bali...Li’s home for the next three weeks. This kind soul, familiar with the local dialect was able to negotiate a fair price for the taxi and they split the fare. Another hour North to Ubud, and he had arrived. Using the ex-pat’s cell phone, Li was able to call his long time friend and arrange a meeting place…a small 24 hour market on the outskirts of town.
With more understanding and compassion for all of his travelling tribulations than Li could have wished for, his good friend pulled up on his motorbike at 3:30 am (roughly 94 hours after leaving his dorm room in Baoding) and handed him a cold beer. The rest of the story is just like anyone else’s who has been to that part of the world. Paradisical, peaceful, relaxing, combine these attributes with the much needed therapy of communing with old friends and it was exactly what was needed. However, Li felt the epic journey getting there made his time on the island paradise that much sweeter.
Thanks for reading, but again I remind you that this is a story for me. Sorry to be selfish, but if I had not put down in words what I went through then pieces could be omitted or exaggerated later in my life and finer details such as the little man with cigarettes and a grin forgotten.
