M-whY

We arrived at the train station half an hour early, but already there was a long line in front of us. Hard seats, unlike other classes, don't have assigned places - basically, whoever gets there first gets a place to sit - and it's conceivable that someone would have to stand (or sit on the floor) for the entire trip, which today would last 11 hours. Judging from our place in the queue, I didn't think Jon stood much chance at getting a seat.

I figured we might be able to talk the crew into letting Jon share my soft sleeper. Lower bunks are just like couches; Two, maybe even three, could comfortably occupy the space. A couple stewardesses got me directed to someone of some authority.

"[This foreigner accidently bought the wrong ticket, hard seat instead of hard sleeper,]" I began, trying to portray Jon as a clueless American. "[Since I have a soft sleeper, I was wondering if you'd let him share my bunk. I'm not sure if he'd be able to handle 11 hours in the hard seat car.]"

"[Sorry, we can't do that. The rules are four persons per compartment.]"

"[There are also many stops between here and Xi'an, I'm also concerned he might not know where to get off.]"

"[You can go remind him the stop before.]"

"[You can't make exceptions?]"

"[We can't make exceptions, not even for foreigners.]"

I could tell from his tone he wanted to help, but probably had his hands tied by someone even higher up than he. I did the next best thing then.

"[Then can you let me know if any sleeper berths become available so we can have his ticket upgraded?]"

"[If anything opens up, I'll let you know.]"

This was as far as I felt I could get, and so we split up: Me settling into my assigned place while Jon went off to fend for himself. At a few minutes before 9:00am, the train began moving, and I wondered if Jon would still have his sanity by the end of the day. I've never ridden hard seat before, but I've seen them when packed, and know they can be trying on someone who isn't used to them. Good news arrived about an hour after we got started.

A stewardess stopped by and said to me, "[There's a hard sleeper available, it's the best we can do. Go get your foreigner friend and we'll have his ticket upgraded.]" A few people who overheard the message began grumbling. They too had wanted to have some family members upgraded, and began pleading their cases. I'd like to think I'd made an impression on someone, and that's why we'd been selected, but it's more likely that I just put in my request before theirs.

I made my way down to where Jon was. He had managed to find a seat, though only about one butt cheek's worth. "[Let's go, bring your luggage, we got you upgraded.]" A few minutes in a makeshift office at the end of one of the cars to pay the price difference, and we were all good to go.

"It's a good thing you got me this hard sleeper. It was crowded, people were smoking... it would've been rough," Jon admitted. Hard sleeper wouldn't be a joy ride either, but it was an improvement.

Having settled this, I returned to my place several cars down for a nap. Train rides can be fascinating and boring at the same time. Fascinating because, here I am, rolling through China, past dusty villages that looked like heavy rains could wash away, catching a glimpse of peasant life, and thinking to myself, 'Wow, here in the 21st century, even in rapidly modernizing places like China, people still live like this.' Boring because it'd be the same stuff, mile after mile after mile. Sleep, read, or stare out the window - these were my options. I did a little of each, and slowly, we rocked towards Xi'an.

A couple times I went to see what Jon was up to. Pretty much the same as I. Towards the end of the trip, I got to know a couple college students on their way to Chongqing.

"[You're from America?!]" Oftentimes I'll mention it, just because I like watching the disbelief in their eyes, and it's a great conversation starter. "[You're the first American I've ever talked to. I wish I could go there someday... I really want to see an NBA game live.]"

Conversation turned from Yao Ming and Tracy McGrady to other topics. When talking to local Chinese, dialogue can be very predictable. They're curious where I learned chinese. When my Taiwanese background is brought up, inevitably a comment about reunification is made. The questions are always the same. What do you do in America? How much money does the average American make? What do Americans think of China? I answered them vaguely. I did computer related work. I told them how much I made, then added that salaries can vary greatly. I pointed out Americans each had their own opinions on China, and it was hard to generalize.

"What about you personally? With what you've seen, what do you think of China?"

"Every part of China is different. Some places are nice. Like look at Shanghai. Just like any other American city. But then out here," I said, gesturing out the window. "It seems really poor."

"Yes, China has too many people. It's a problem."

Later, I'd reflect on this statement. I've heard it enough times to know it's not just the opinion of a select few individuals. I've seen enough to know that there's some truth to it. On the other hand, the general consensus in the US is that the one billion or so Chinese provides boundless opportunities for growth. Two vastly different perspectives on the same issue.

The sun set over the Yellow River, and shortly afterwards, a stewardess reminded me to let Jon know our stop was approaching. Everything went without a hitch - the bus ride into the city, checking into the hostel, finding something to eat. Jon broke into snores five minutes after lying down, I fell asleep a little while later. That's the one good thing about taking a day train: You get a real soft sleeper for the night.

Thanks to everyone for their support and comments! Knowing people are reading keeps me motivated to continue the updates!