We never got the chance to get bored on the overnight train from Beijing to Xi'on: a steady stream of people, usually school age, wanting to practice English, or simply curious, kept us occupied.
We traveled “Hard Sleeper” class, but it’s not as hard as it sounds. The sleepers are padded and clean, grouped in packs of six, just like in European trains. The difference is that they are not closed off so people walk past your bunk, but traffic is low during the night.
We were in different sections, but not far from each other. It’s a “feed yourself” situation; with pot noodles the standard meal. Most everyone eats early: what else is there to do? Afterward it’s sit, play cards, etc. for 10 hours.
Some teenage girls started talking to Joan; they were excited about gong to Boston the following year on an exchange program. A boy and girl, prompted by their father, started practicing English on Steve but after a short time everyone got involved. I think several families, but it was difficult to tell because they were so open with each other. After a time the youngest ones worked up the nerve to come over. Jenny and Lilly, they were so cute that even I enjoyed the company.
In Xi'on, an enchanting, giggling, half pint of local energy named Kathy, met us. In the bus, on the way to the Terracotta Warriors, she grabbed a microphone for the usual guide banter. Steve, (who else), said "sing us a song," and as if she'd been waiting all her life for some one to ask just that question, she did. In fact she sang several songs, happily explaining the lyrics as she went. I don’t think Denis appreciated our request to trade him in on this sleeker model.
The TC warriors, built in the 3rd century, commissioned by the first emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang, is one of the main sites I wanted to see in China, so I was pretty excited. Like the Great Wall, when you learn the scale of the undertaking you can’t help but be impressed.
The infrastructure and museum is modern and well laid out. Following Kathy, as she bounced from exhibit to exhibit, was pure joy, and poo-poo to grammar and syntax anyway.
To Kunming
The grounds around the site are well designed and landscaped. They are also under guard. On the way out I rounded the path and in the distance saw the open gate, about 10 meters across. What was odd is that there seemed to be an imaginary line that the swarm of touts would not cross. It was strange seeing them, arms filled with boxes of imitation warriors, postcards, chimes and trinkets, will all their toes along the line.
There must have been some informal organization, because as we stepped across the line, each one of us was adopted by one, and only one, personal tout. Mine specialized in 6-inch Terracotta Warrior replicas. That I clearly had no interest didn’t discourage him in the least. He stayed with me for a few yards, when all Hell broke loose.
I noticed him look up quickly, his eyes wide. I turned toward where he was looking and saw the biggest fucking Chinese policeman running straight at me. I have enough of a past that seeing armed police bearing down on me scared the Hell out of me.
I looked back at my sales guy, but he was long gone. He, along with the crowd, was making an admirable end run around toward the right. The policeman blew past me, shot into the crowd like a shark into a school of fish, and a couple of seconds later was leading a women away by the arm.
I have no idea which line she crossed.
In Xi'on we stayed near the Muslim area and I spent some time wandering, or sitting with a beer, munching various BBQ'd bits and watching the world go by. These guys fed me well the afternoon before our next train.
