Trains

I spend an excessive amount of time on trains. It’s getting ridiculous. I’ve tried to break up my traveling, going from nearby city to nearby city so that I’m not on a train for more than 24 hours at a time.

When I have a long distance to cover overnight, I try to get a sleeper car, but sometimes there aren’t any. Surprisingly, spending the night on a hard seat surrounded by the 134 other people in the car isn’t quite as bad as expected. Maybe I’m just an optimist.

Ok, it’s pretty bad, but not unbearable. For some unknown reason (er… check out one of my previous posts called “Coal”) Chinese people won’t open the windows on the trains. So not only does it get a little toasty, the smell is overwhelming. And the bathroom on the train doesn’t make things smell any better, either.

The worst part about trains, other than grime and foul odors, is getting bored. I try to alternate between reading, listening to music, writing, talking to children, and avoiding talking to creepy old men. Chinese children are great to talk to. And they’re so cute. The creepy old men are just creepy and old and have never seen a foreigner before so they ask me strange questions. Real examples:

“What language is spoken in America?” I just thought everyone knew.
“Are there fields in America?” How do you think the population gets fed?
“At what age do girls get married in America?” Everyone gets married at exactly the same age… not.

But trains are part of what I love so much about China. The Chinese rail system really brings out the true nature and character of the people.

On the train, strangers talk and laugh together. They share their food and trade seats so families can sit together.

But trains definitely bring out the bad side as well. Many Chinese people don’t understand the concept of waiting in line. I always get pushed and shoved and stepped on. I’ve been knocked over on several occasions. And no one apologizes. This is all just waiting for the train to arrive. Actually getting on the train can be worse.

On my way from Hohhot to Baotou, the aisles were filled with people who didn’t have seats. At every stop, more people would get on than would get off. Upon arriving at Baotou, I grabbed my bag and tried to get off the train. But twenty or more people were trying to get on. And it was like a mosh pit.

I just started pushing people and asking them to let me off. Then the train attendants tried to help me get off by pushing other people and then by pulling me. Nothing worked. Finally, I just started yelling, “Let me get off the train! You’re all crazy!” I’m not sure if the people getting on were alarmed simply by a foreign girl calling them insane, or if they were shocked that I was speaking Chinese. There was a lot of exclaiming going on.

And they thought I was Russian. Do Russians yell a lot?