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Published: October 1st 2009
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My fans..
...getting adopted on the train The Kindness of Strangers
The first instance of the impenetrable language barrier rearing it’s head on me in China came when I attempted to purchase train tickets from Nanning to Guilin. Having been forewarned, I took special care to write down the number of tickets, date, and ideal time of this departure beforehand. I can only get down on my knees and thank the Gods above that the Chinese use the same numerical system. Between that, and with the help of my trusty Lonely Planet guide, I was able to book my tickets without speaking and without difficulty.
Waking up early on the day of my departure, I trudged through the confusing underground pass between my hotel and the train station, and took a seat to wait. Since it was my first train trip in China, I had decided to get to the station ridiculously early…just in case. The waiting room was packed and yet I still managed to be the only foreigner in the room. While biding my time and reading a book, I was completely surrounded by giggling and staring young girls. There were 7 of them to be exact…each one coming with her own set of
Goofing off...
...VERY outgoing children parents, a pile of luggage, and the obligatory 10 pounds of ‘travel’ food. They squeezed their little bums in next to me, across from me, and practically on top of me before settling in to stare with wide and unblinking eyes. Deciding that I wasn’t going to get any more of my book done, I put it away and smiled at my group of fans. This was all the invitation that they needed to start chattering away in a cross between rapid-fire Chinese and faltering English. Most of the girls were around 12 years old, but there was one older girl who introduced herself as Wendy and became our translator. The usual litany of questions were asked and answered, exhausting the little one’s grasp of English and leaving an awkward silence over the group. Wendy asked me where I was going, and when I replied Guilin, excited smiles and chatter erupted over the group once more. It turns out that we were both tourists in this part of China, and that we were going to the same place.
When it was time to board, I was escorted onto the train by my large crew of protectors. The process of
Playing with puzzles...
...I've never been in a train before where a toy vendor comes into the car and demonstrates his wares...of course these kids HAD to have everything he was selling.... taking my seat was accompanied by the usual assortment of interested stares from the fellow passengers. I’m starting to get used to feeling like a celebrity wherever I go. I shut my eyes to block out the sight, but was surprised a few minutes later when I was poked back awake by an older women who indicated that I was in her seat. It turns out that the trains are 2 levels high, and share the same seat numbers. The ticket will indicate whether you’re in the upper or lower car, however since these instructions are in Chinese, I was none the wiser. Apologizing with my extremely limited Chinese language skills, I gathered up my luggage and headed for the stairs. On the way, I was waylaid by my little fan group, who indicated that I should sit with them. Their butts were tiny enough that I was able to squeeze in without any difficulty, and they were delighted at their new acquisition.
The train ride was 5 hours. You would be absolutely amazed at how many games of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ you can play in 5 hours. As this was one of the few games which appeared to
A small Chinese town???
Amazing! My first view of Yangshou span the geographical distance of the globe, we played it almost ceaselessly for the entire way. Throughout it all, they took characteristic delight in shoving all manner of strange and foreign food down my gullet. I quickly learned that it is unforgivable to refuse an offer of food here, and so reluctantly consumed mountains of dried seaweed, corn-flavored sweets, and cups of hot and fragrant tea. It was mind-boggling at how much food these tiny little girls were able to consume in a mere 5 hours. Their mouths were never empty as they chewed, smiled, and screeched with giddy enthusiasm.
Finally we arrived in Guilin. Wendy, in her thoughtful and halting English, attempted to explain that they were also traveling to Yangshou and invited me to join them on their bus. I agreed. While we waited, the little girls taught me the Chinese equivalent of ‘Pattycakes’, and both them and their parents smiled indulgently when they absolutely annihilated me. One of the little ones came running over with their hands full of popsicles and shouting ‘Ice Cream!’. I have to confess that I was excited to get the taste of seaweed out of my mouth, and so bit into one enthusiastically.
It was green-pea flavored.
Who in the world would ruin a bar of perfectly good ice cream by making it resemble one of the most horrid and hated vegetables!? And why does everyone in this country take delight in turning everything into a vegetable? Can’t a biscuit remain a biscuit? Why do you want to make it taste like corn instead? I just don’t understand.
The kids all watched me intently as I struggled to get through my popsicle. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate peas? It’s one vegetable that I absolutely will NOT touch if it happens to find it’s way onto my dinner plate. But would could I do? I choked it down and smiled through the wretched taste. And then ditched it slyly into a garbage bin when no one was looking.
Boarding onto the bus, it appeared as though the excitement of the past few hours was finally too much for the kiddies. One of them, after virtually beating up another girl for the privilege of sitting beside me, dropped quickly into sleep with her head on my shoulder. I spent the whole hour holding her head steady so that it didn’t bounce off as we went over any of the numerous bumps.
We finally arrived in Yangshou late that afternoon. The family attempted to try and book me a room in the hotel that they were staying in, but I had to finally put my foot down in the presence of this overwhelming generosity. I decided to stay in a neighboring hostel instead, where the little ones were able to run in and visit me at any point in their stay.
The kindness and generosity that I encountered on this, my second day in the country, made me certain that I would love China. Or at the very least, that I would love the Chinese.
Signing off
Jen
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