the day we left Nanning for Hanoi (Dec 6)

---

Just a note from aboard the train we almost missed, Nanning to Hanoi (Henei in Chinese). Jinyi is more random than I am and enjoys dashing and smashing around, especially at meal times. Our late afternoon snack (actually a huge batch of curried chicken with fresh coconut milk from the market) stretched on past our departure time, and when we hit the street there were no cabs to be found, or we got outmaneuvered by a long line of people waiting, like us, for a cab with a red light on. When we finally found one, it was off into a Friday pm rush hour. We bailed when we got close to the station and sprinted for two blocks with our backpacks on. We got to security six minutes prior to departure, only to learn the train was late. Jinyi created drama staggering into the waiting room, red-faced and still short of breath.



So it's just after ten pm and we are supposed to stop and clear Chinese customs soon, crossing the border at 11:20 pm. Right now, lots train whistles and the clackety-clack of an Arlo Guthrie song, big wheels on the railbed. I like this. It's like a Graham Greene novel. Come to think about it, I'll have to read The Ugly American again, his prophetic Saigon story (or was it Hanoi?).



We won't sleep much tonight with two brushes with officialdom. I'm curious what our Korean compartment-mates carry in their huge suitcases, or the Vietnamese family with big luggage and huge cardboard boxes.



Later, huge disappointment because nobody whom I saw had to open their luggage. One woman had to pay major fine bc she didn't get a visa. The immigration officers were stoney-faced young men, all business. Moving across the border, lots of whistles and the train moves slowly. The Chinese immigration people are on board, traveling to the border with us.

The de-training a second time almost killed the Koreans. Turns out they've been making (or maybe just selling) jewelry in Qingdao for 13 yr and are considering moving to Hanoi. They must have samples in their massive luggage. Got delayed BC the Vietnamese immigration couldn't match # of passports with his headcount. One was wrong BC we stayed there awhile and got yelled at by the officer I/c. Now it is two something a.m. and train travel has lost its appeal when a border is involved. The train yards are dimly lit, very Spy Who Came in from the Coldish, engines shifting cars back and forth.

---