The Train

Most Americans alive today never had the chance to partake in a long distance train ride across America. In fact, the only train ride I took before coming to China was a scenic train ride somewhere in the Adirondacks when I was about 6...a train ride for fun, to experience the romanticism of 'riding the rails'. While it is still possible to travel across The States by train, it's cheaper to fly, and a little quicker. Yet, the most common form of long distance travel in China is still the train.

Taking the train in China is an experience in itself. Yet, before even getting on the train, which is the easy part, you must purchase the tickets.

Buying a train ticket is probably the most stressful thing you can possibly do in this country...and maybe the world. When you go to buy tickets at a large train station there are usually about 15 or so windows open, all of them jammed with people in a dysfunctional line. Each line is about 20 people deep with students, workers, businessman, and yourself, the token foreigner. If you watch the front of the line, it can drive any rule abiding person crazy, because people come from all over the insanely crowded train station to buy tickets out of turn, shout questions, or to tell the ticket seller what they had for dinner. As the line slowly inches forward, you repeat the Chinese over and over in your head, "Jin tian dao Panzhihua, liang zhang wo pu" (Today to Panzhihua, two sleeper tickets), but you just know, that no matter how boldly you shout those words in your best Sichuan dialect, the ticket seller Nazi will glance at the silly foreigner and fail to acknowledge you, or simply say there are no tickets, at which point the next person in line will begin screaming in Chinese and pushing their money through the window. Yet, slowly, you continue creeping towards the front of the line. When you're finally a few people away from the window, you break into a sweat and forget how to say "Hello" in Chinese. At this point, you get a sense of the ticket seller Nazi that fate has thrown to you this time around, who with no fail, is a middle aged, unstably disgruntled woman. Finally, you reach the front of the line and proudly state your destination and the day you would like to leave, after pushing a line cutter to the side. If all goes well, she will begin plugging away at the computer immediately, if not, prepare to yell in Chinese. After a few nervous seconds, she will ask you for the type of ticket you want or simply print one out anyway (There are four types of tickets in China, the soft sleeper, hard sleeper, soft seat, and hard seat. The hard sleeper is good for any overnight trips and the hard seat is fine for any trips under 8 hours. I've only had a soft sleeper once and I've never had a soft seat, they're pointless for the extra money.). You then give her the appropriate money (too many big bills will anger her) and step to the side. Now, try to make your way out of the train station without having your money or bags stolen.

When it's time to actually go to the train station, you usually want to arrive there 20 minutes early if you have a sleeper ticket and up to 1 hour early if you have a seat or a standing ticket (this sucks). Even when people have a seat ticket, they will line up early and press at the gates waiting to board. If you have a seat and ten 100 lb. sacks of grain to put on the luggage racks above...you want to be there early to take up every one else's luggage space. The gates open 20 minutes before the train departs and everyone pushes and shoves to be the first to board. If you win, you get to take up tons of space and sit for 20 minutes donning a shit eating grin or pretending to sleep, in order to take up even more space (if there are open seats, standing ticket holders can take them).

When the train finally starts, the hard seat section is usually full to the brim with workers and farmers, minorities and students. The train cars are full of cigarette smoke and card playing, people sleeping or pretending to sleep. There are people reading magazines, staring blankly at their cell phones as they input text and change ring tones, listening to music, and eating instant noodles. There is free hot water, two bathrooms per car, two sinks, and the workers stroll the aisles selling magnetic jewelry and socks that will never burn, smell, or get stretched out. The train is a microcosm of the Chinese world, fully equipped with generosity, prostitution, snoring, alcohol, kindness, assholes, thieves, and boredom. It rolls through a predominately agrarian landscape that is often beautiful and always fascinating.

I love to see the landscape roll past the windows and watch it change from desert to sub-tropical forest to snow covered mountains to river valleys. I also love to eat instant noodles (which are many times better than those in the States), peanuts, and anything else my hands land on. Yet, one of the changes that is eminent as you cross the Chinese countryside, is the coming of a new age, one that hit America years ago: The Automobile Age. The Chinese equivalent to our interstate system is being built across the country and will be completed in the next 2 or 3 years. With the faster travel times that a highway offers, the train will start to see a decline in passengers and this model of public transportation will begin to fade away. While the train will be slower then buses plying the new highways, the ability to glide through the countryside on a train cannot be replicated. These moving cities that ebb and flow with passengers at each station, that offer food, drinks, and portable DVD players, with room for all classes of people, are truly something to experience at least once. Hopefully, the completion of the highways will not herald the death of the passenger train in China.