The Birds of St Sophia

I'm currently sitting in Haerbin China, sipping a Chestnut macchiato in Starbucks, looking out the window.  The sky is clear and blue, with sunlight glinting off the curved copper domes topping Russian buildings.  My toes are painfully numb, while my hands are swelling with the sudden heat of this delectable macchiato.  I hope for the sake of Americans everywhere that chestnut flavoring is not limited to Chinese consumers.  I try to savor it slowly while my toes come back to life.  Hordes of Chinese traipse up and down Center street, while buses trundle under thin metals arches that span the road lined with spindly, naked trees.  As I wandered the city taking pictures yesterday, I noticed that I passed over buildings and monuments in favor of the winter trees.  I have always found leafless trees impossibly beautiful, their exposed skeletons lacing in a myriad of intricate patterns, the structure and strength of the tree refusing to die in the cold.  In a bare tree, willpower and hope are enmeshed.  Outside this window, I see a giant ice sculpture next to a Russian bakery. This American coffee shop is next to my favorite clothes-store in Asia, which is Japanese.  The street is lined with Chinese restaurants and culminates in a town square featuring beautiful St. Sophia, an old brick church topped with dark green domes sprouting golden crosses.  An old Chinese woman sells bags of corn for the birds - I can almost hear her say 'tuppence a bag.'  At her whistle, a flock of white doves take wing, swirling around the spires perfectly synchronized.  My toes are warm enough to feel now.  There are few moments in life as delightful as this!

The K-Train

The Kattle Train.  The Krap Train.

The faces of my fellow laowai filled with the Spirit of K-trains past. "Ugh, full of farmers who don't read signs." "They'll smoke on board." "It's full of Chinese." "You'll stand the whole way." "The toilets overflow."  Then they asked "Hard-sleeper or soft sleeper?"  "Hard-seat," I said.  The stunned, blank silence told me everything I needed to know: I had scheduled the Train of Doom.*

I had no problem maintaining my enthusiasm despite their grimacing smiles, but I began mentally preparing myself.  I imagined a wood paneled interior with unpadded wood seats, propping my feet up on my backpack for thirty hours** as a round, middle aged man named Li yells over the din to his family sitting on the other side of the car. I brainstormed (as always) ways to avoid interacting with public sewage, and reminded myself that nothing can be as gross as wading through 3/4" of human ka-ka at a Xi'an rest stop. I was a little worried that I might need to stand for several hours, but reasoned that the purchase of standing room must be a thing of the past.

I was a bit surprised at some of the comments people made.  The train will be full of Chinese? No joke Sherlock, WE LIVE IN CHINA.  And why complain about farmers? City-folk are definitely more comfortable around foreigners, but country-folk can be really friendly!  I gave several committal, "Oh, hmmm..." kind of responses, and got even more excited for whatever adventure I was about to encounter.

I finished packing at 1am (which is incredibly early for me) and stayed up until 3am, trying to iron out the perfect color scheme for a new blog.***  I was very proud to check every single thing off my list. Laundry folded. Check. Fridge emptied.  Check.  Apartment clean, swept, bleach poured in the toilet bowl.  Check, check, CHECK!  Could anyone be more accomplished than I?  I topped of preparation perfection with a leisurely breakfast with friends and posed for a picture with my very full backpack.****

Navigating a bus or train station is always easier than I anticipate.  Once upon a time, the idea of finding a platform without knowing the local language ranged from daunting to frightening.  If you ever find yourself lost in a terminal where no one speaks English, this is what you do:

          1. Show your ticket to someone in uniform

          2. Walk toward where they point

          3. If you have not reached your desired destination, repeat steps 1 & 2

After that, switch into lemming mode and follow your fellow passengers.  That's it.  No panic necessary.  China has brought out my inner lemming, so I wasn't nervous about finding my train. However, this is my first solo international trip, so I cut myself extra time. Plenty of time. Too much time.  TWO HOURS of extra time.  But there are worse things.

I rounded the corner resolutely optimistic, ready to take on my shabby, crazy train adventure.  I was greeted with row upon row of happy little red and yellow striped trains slowly pulling in and out of the station as neatly coiffed conductors with long blue coats and sharp hats helped milling people find the correct car.  I wanted to take a picture, but didn't want to break the traffic flow as I lemminged my way to my car.

I did not share a small seat with Li.  My seat mates were Lacy and her boyfriend.*****  Lacy had remarkably good English, and she acted as my unofficial interpreter during the trip.   In the past 8 hours, I've exchanged travel photos with Lacy, bought and consumed long kon, and played "Mafia" using a weird mix of Chinese and English.

[For those familiar with the game, when it was MY turn to be the killer, and they accused me, my defense went something like this, "Just because I'm a foreigner, it doesn't mean that I'm a murderer." They laughed so hard, especially when they found out I WAS guilty,]

Other highlights included an ugly fist-fight about 5-6 rows in front of me, an aspiring admirer who tried to give me fruit, and re my seat mates how to play Egyptian Ratscrew.  Our remarkable deck of cards had three makeshift cards made out of an envelope. The game got so loud and involved that we drew a small crowd of spectators as we steamed up the windows. 

11:40PM

Lily is sleeping on her boyfriend, her head covered with a coat like a bird that's been put to sleep for the night.  He has a red horse stuffed animal under his arm, probably a gift for someone back home.  It IS the year of the horse, after all.  A man in front of me is peeling an apple with a penknife.  Considering the amount of natural cushion I have, this seat is remarkably hard.

12:30AM

I'm growing perturbed about the loud TV show people are playing, but I think Uncle is fixing it. I might I love him.  It's starting to get cold.  I wonder if I'll wake up to snow...

I did NOT wake up to snow, but I did watch a hot pink sun rise a set out opposite sides of the train that day.  The K-train was not at all as terrible as people made it out to be.  However, sitting for 32 hours is surprisingly painful.  I really lucked out with my seat mates: 3 recent college graduates, and 4 middleaged people.  I was seated away from the wall, which made sleeping impossible.  The older people had an unofficial rotation going on, swapping seats so others could take a turn leaning against the wall, or putting their head on the table.  Somewhere in the haze after midnight and before dawn, i got put into that rotation by the grace of God and the good hearts of the Chinese people.

By the end of the trip, I felt very Chinese. I had encountered every major, common cultural clash and didnt really feel fazed.  Squatty-potties on the train, questions about age and marital status, being stared at (literally) for hours by people who had no intention of talking to me, questions about how much I spent on things,****** giving and receiving food to and from strangers, getting photos taken, an impressing people with my mad chopstick skills.  My Chinese cellphone always gets me points for being in-the-know too.  Sometimes I feel like a celebrity in one of those articles you see in tabloids: They drink coffee like us! They buy toilet paper like us! They take their kids to the park like us!  This trip was one of those times.  With help from Lacy, I chatted with the older people. They seemed tentative at first, but by the time we got to Haerbin, they approved of me.*******

My taxi driver was a bit of a stinker, and my hotel room is...worthy of its own blog post, but 12 hours of sleep fixed the world.  My ToD experience, while quite memorable, wasn't nearly as awful as I anticipated.  I'm thankful I didn't manage to lose that last 10lbs - goodness knows I needed it to survive the hard seat! 

Stay tuned for more adventures....

*Train of Doom hereafter referred to as ToD.

** This part of my nightmare was inspired by my real-life story of traveling the length of Thailand curled up in the fetal position for 13 hours on a bus with no shocks that blasted bad rave music through the dead of night with an interior lit by neon purple lights.  True story.

***I have an excellent sense of priorities.

**** For the record, I did NOT overpack. Temperatures in Haerbin have been ranging from -30 to -9 C. Warm clothes are excessively fluffy

*****That's not entirely accurate. Her name was Lacey Li....but you get my point.

******Specifically my boots, which I was REALLY proud of! I shopped all ocer two cities to find goosnow boots made out of leather and wool that were waterproof, cheap, and large enough to fit my feet. This is surprisingly difficult to do, and I ended up with a pair of man-ish, yet comfortable boots for around $38 USD. Two men around my Dad's age were checking them out, so I unzipped the side to show them the lining. One guy felt the wool, and they asked the price. When I told them, they nodded in approval of my great shopping skills, and told me they were good quality. WIN!

*******You know a Chinese person has accepted you if they pat you on the arm or shoulder, or if they give you something to eat.