I will get right to the criticism so that hopefully things will finish strongly or at least neutral by the end. Leaving the polluted city of Xi’an was definitely high on my priority list. So, the 32kg on my back felt almost light. I hopped street curbs with ease and smiled back at the gaukers. My send off was especially sweet because one of the housekeepers at the hostel rather insistently thought I should have a banana for the road.
My expectations for the train were high as service from Beijing to Lasa is less than five months old. Externally, the train looked hardly different that any of the other Chinese passenger carriers. Internally, after not even half a year of service the inside was a filthy wreck. The bunks were already torn and the carpet worn with ground in dirt. I’ve seen 30 year-old trains in Europe that looked better. It is bewildering how this culture has almost no concept of cleanliness and it appears can decompose almost anything to primal elements in record timing. This truly is a simple concept, run a vacuum, wipe surfaces down, actually have liquid soap in the dispensers.
To add to the fun, I am really struggling with the incessant smoking. There is literally nowhere to escape, as smoking is permitted everywhere and the air systems re-circulate everything. All the windows are locked shut. I feel like one of those rats, locked in the clear plastic box that gets pumped with cigarette smoke to prove the health risks of smoking. The good news is that tomorrow morning about 9:00am everyone is required to stop smoking when the train starts to introduce oxygen into the cabins.
The other clear favorite is the xenophobic open prejudice we experience as obvious non-locals. This presents itself in classic symptoms of refusal of service by the food cart personnel to selective menu options. The craziest thing is that the guidebooks suggest eating the bochoy and mushrooms, which the food car refuses to serve foreigners. At first we thought it was a “lost in translation” issue, but even after pointing at the dishes of the nationals and having the Chinese characters written for the waitress there was no service. This carried on for three meals in a row. Maybe tomorrow we will have better luck.
Sorry, one more macabre treat. Passing through Lan Zhou, which has the honor of being the most polluted city in the world, words struggle to describe the noontime dusk and fog of filth. It was like a deep San Francisco marine layer of toxin that gave me a claustrophobic twinge, evoking my “flight” reflex.
Now for the upside of this train trip… My cabin-mates are a very friendly couple from Berlin who took the Trans-Siberian Railway from Moscow over the continent and then trains to Beijing, with the final route being to Lasa. It is so comforting to have a peaceful cabin where at least the mental environment is healthy.
We met Kris, an American photographer, who happened to be in the middle of an interview for Chinese television and two British nationals. After dinner we sat in the dining car and chatted until about mid-night. The first class, “soft sleeper”, compartments were only about half full, so our dining car was relatively empty.
Ok, I wanted to finish on a positive note, but at least maybe you can laugh at me instead. There are little green bottles sold almost everywhere in China for about 3-5 Yuan or around $0.50. Being curious, I asked the group what it was. Next thing you know, after being ignored by the passing cart attendant, John yells out to her in Chinese to stop. 5 Yuan later and we are splitting the bottle, about four ounces each for the two of us. This is never, ever, ever, a good idea.
If someone tries to twist your arm to drink the devils water, “just say no!” After taking a single gulp we realized that the proof on the bottle was 118. Smooooooth… not. Let the pain and laughter of the rest of the traveling foreigners begin. No worries there was nothing projectile, just enough malaise to make me want to steer clear of anything with a percentage symbol on the bottle for a while, plus the joy of a heightened sense of smell to enjoy the output from my chain smoking host nation.
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