Fragments from far

I thought that taking a train was a very normal thing to do. Well, it’s not an easy task in China, especially during Chinese New Year holidays. The fact that there are 1.4 billion Chinese people out there does make a difference.

I was stuck in Guangzhou trying to find a way to get to Yunnan province, in the south-west of China, as all trains were booked. Knowing Chinese turned out to be the trump card: it took me an exhilarating conversation with a local and some extra money under the table to actually find a train ticket. The station was filled up with people, all staring at the only laowài there (“foreigner” in Mandarin slang), making his way through the massive queue to board on the train.
Queue for security, queue for the escalators, queue for the gate (train stations in China work like airports). If you don’t like to spend time in a queue, China is definitely not the place for you.

Finally on the train, I found my compartment and my tiny bed: I was ready for an interesting 26-hour ride.
It really felt like being in a parallel world. It was like being in a very small town, where everybody knows each other, mingles, drinks hot tea while eating sunflower seeds, and talks loudly about the problems of making a living. Cigarette breaks were a must, and they were taking place in between carriages, where guys would smoke three or more of those deadly “dragon” cigarettes in a row. It wasn't your average train ride, it was a bubble where the outside world seemed so far away, and the only people you knew were on the train: the old lady who spent her youth in the countryside, and was now enjoying life in the city; the old man going to visit the rest of the family he left back at home working in the fields; the young couple fighting over an instant noodle soup being too spicy.
It was all surreal and exciting, even though I couldn't understand half of what I was hearing, because of the large use of different dialects among these people.
A young Chinese worker helped me to get dinner at the restaurant carriage, and in the meantime, he was telling me how hard it is to find a wife in Shanghai, since they are all such demanding city girls.
A few Qingdao beers later, and while hearing the sweet voice of an adorable elderly woman who was hosting the tea ceremony on the bed next to mine, it was time to rest.

The dawn came, and with it the first rays of sunlight. The first glance at the rice terraces, from the dirty window frame, had a totally different meaning.