It was a hot and humid morning when we woke up at Hong Kong station. We were armed with cameras, dictionaries, road maps and Chinese visas. The bag and luggage were removed and, along with all the other foreigners, we walked through the crowds of Chinese to a waiting train. The next three hours were full of anticipation as we strolled over the hills and farming villages on the border and slowly approached the Chinese border.
What did we, a couple of American missionaries from the Philippines, on this train en route to the depths of China? We have always been interested in the Chinese people and wondered what life is like on the great Asian continent. When planning our vacation to America, we decided to take our train trip through Asia.
In China
We arrived in the border town of Shumchun with only a vague idea of what to expect. After collecting our bags, we cross a wooden bridge which represents the front door. All around us were a lot of Chinese and a few foreigners, all struggling with bags, boxes and packages as they cleaned the deck. The Chinese authorities greeted us politely, guided us through all entry requirements, offered us our first Chinese meal, and boarded the train to Guangzhou. The two hour ride in padded armchairs with air-conditioned comfort and hot tea in hand-painted mugs made us feel like guests of honor.
As we got off the train in Canton, we were warmly greeted by Chan, a young man who always reminded us that it was his "duty to serve the people". He was our “manager” who was called a private guide, interpreter and tutor. Chan quickly picked us up and our luggage and took us to a car that had been waiting for us for several hours. “This car is owned by the government,” Chan said. "There are no private cars in China because they damage the air."
We honk our horns through busy streets and weave our way through the crowds from one tourist attraction to another. A view of the city, an orchid garden, public parks, everything to see. The questions were answered with patience and courtesy. A meal planned in a restaurant could not be canceled although it was completely sold out. Finally, Chan drove us back to the train station and took the train to Beijing.
By train through China
The train left Canton station at 8:40 p.m. with two exhausted American passengers on board. Finally, the omnipresent guards, guides and interpreters left. Our compartment was really meant for four people, with comfortable bunk beds and a small table by the window with a lace tablecloth and a vase of flowers. We took two porcelain tea cups, several small packets of tea leaves, and a large thermos brightly painted with boiling water. We swam with the views and experiences of the day and climbed into our bunks on our first night in China. The movement of the train shook us as we walked further and further into an unknown land.
August 24: We woke up before dawn and waited to explore our new surroundings. To our surprise, we opened the door to find that we were the last two in a long line that led to the dining room. All of our traveling companions were men, most of them wearing loose shirts and pants, which are almost a national uniform in China. Some smiled and mumbled friendly greetings, while others shyly looked away as we approached.
With the movement of the food truck, a fat guy, a coveralls manager, a cook and a bus helper led us to our seats. Passengers were making loud spaghetti and soup with the click of chopsticks when the manager came out of the kitchen. He smiled widely and was visibly proud of his achievement and introduced us to the coffee, toast, jam and butter. We couldn't be happier.
Outside, the green hills of Hunan Province passed us. The houses were made of bricks and had thatched roofs or tiled roofs. Small villages dominated the landscape and the land was well cultivated, lush and green with rice fields in bloom. People were out in the fields, on the streets and busy moving. Every hour or two the train stopped to change passengers. They were small and isolated places where peasants and villagers carried their few belongings in bullets wrapped in cotton cloth. The babies were lying on their mother's back or lying behind them, wearing signature trousers with the seam around the lukewarm unrestrained, apparently in an emergency!
Most stations were equipped with a large metal water tank and a ladle for thirsty travelers. Eventually, we realized that families with women and children joined our entourage. Party noises, laughter and loud conversations echoed through the train.
In the afternoon we crossed Yangtze Square. The temperature changed quickly as we moved from the tropics. People wore heavier clothes, children were packed in bundles and at night we had thick wool blankets. Hot tea was perfect for a night like this, but we ran out of supplies. When I consulted the dictionary, I discovered that the Chinese word for tea is cha, as is the Filipino word. I probably asked the administrator for more tea. He smiled when he understood and ran to his escort. A moment later, he showed up with a new supply of soap and toilet paper for the shared bathrooms. That night we went to bed without tea.
August 25: At 5 o'clock in the morning we got out of bed and dressed calmly. We entered the suburbs of Beijing when the sun was on the horizon. Some early guards roamed the streets and were busy with activities on a new day. The government's policy promotes fitness, so young and old have been on the streets and in public parks and done gymnastics with oriental kung fu movements.
Tourists in Beijing
At 06:18 our train stopped at Beijing Railway Station. We left the familiar atmosphere of the train and walked unsteadily through the station's large corridors. Outside was a large open space where the audience walked or sat on the sidewalk with their belongings and waited patiently. Our "responsible person" was conspicuously absent. We later learned that he had been transferred to help with the earthquake campaign. We would have been happy even with an "irresponsible person" if he had shown us our hotel.
After walking the busy streets of Beijing for two hours with luggage, we found the American Liaison Office. From there, we contacted China Travel Service. As an excuse, they informed us that the train we wanted to travel to Moscow via Manchuria was not running because the tracks were destroyed by the devastating earthquake. The only other route was by train through Outer Mongolia the following week. Since we would be in Beijing for seven days instead of the two originally planned, our hotel has been carefully changed to make it much cheaper. Hsin Chiao turned out to be a charming old hotel which, despite the lobby and corridors lined with concrete and bamboo scaffolding, was comfortable and had no memories of the earthquake.
Every day we walked miles through Beijing. At first people were surprised to see us, then curious and sometimes a little scared, but in general they wanted to smile back. A sure way to overcome reluctance was to admire a child. The parents immediately warmed up, smiled and often forced us to hold the baby in our arms. On the day of our arrival, our first walk took us to Tien An Men Square, a huge place surrounded by four large rooms. Mao Tse-tung looked at the audience from all sides in a giant portrait. We were the only foreigners in the audience, but not the only tourists. There were groups of school children, families marching hand in hand, soldiers in green uniforms, a red star on their necks, all visitors from a place they had heard so much about. Many people captured the moment by paying a photographer to take black and white photos while smiling and posing gracefully in front of a famous place.
August 26-31: Our week in Beijing was full of activities. In addition to the tour, we had the serious task of obtaining visas for Outer Mongolia, Russia, Poland and East Germany. And so began a long series of walks from embassy to embassy, from the rude Russian tourism representative to the sleeping Mongolian officer who woke up from a nap every time we went. In the end, our patience paid off and we all got visas. A "feast" was good.
We chose a small restaurant that specializes in lacquered duck. The inside grew. Families and friends huddled around large round tables in lovable disorder, loaded with rice, beer, orange soda and the occasional plate of meat and vegetables. My curious and incredible look, we challenged the only empty table. The noise became absolute silence. The waitresses ran and took all the partitions they could take with them and surrounded them with our table. The room was still quiet, we waited in our room until a nervous servant came in with a pen and a notebook in her hands. There was no menu and we had no idea what we were ordering, but she scribbled something in her notebook and left, apparently satisfied. Time passed without end and no food appeared. The waitresses were busy elsewhere and did not know what to do with their "unusual" customers. Defeated, we signal a nearby waitress to leave. With a radiant face, she and the rest of the restaurant staff walked us to the door, smiling and waving as we left. Who wanted the pointing duck?
Walking around Beijing was a pleasure. Our usual means of transportation was the public bus. After showing the driver an article with our destination in Chinese, he put us "under his protection."
The streets of Beijing are wide tree-lined roads that offer a mix of sights, sounds and experiences. For example, a truck full of shoeboxes pulled up to a sidewalk and a long line of potential buyers formed. They all got a box that they accepted. Only later, after walking a few meters down the street, did customers stop to try on their newly purchased plastic sandals.
There were several signs of seismic tragedy. Many houses were destroyed or seriously damaged. Afraid of new earthquakes or perhaps because their houses were uninhabitable, many occupied tents or lived in small shelters built on a bed. Men and women were mobilized to repair damage in disaster areas. Government cars patrolled the streets every day, leaving piles of bricks and lime for the masses.
By bus and on foot, we travel alone to various places, including the former emperor's palace and zoo, where keepers report some strange animal behavior as a way of predicting earthquakes. We just had to rent a car for our trip to the Great Wall and the Ming Tombs. Many of these famous monuments built by former emperors now suffer from decay and vandalism. The only church we saw was empty and closed.
So our week in Beijing ended too soon.
Siberia for Europe
September 3 to 8: In the morning, the desert turned into dense forest at night. It is drizzling, gray and cold. We wrapped ourselves in our thick woolen blankets and shivered in the unheated train. So it was Siberia!
For several hours, we followed the coast to a huge stream, the waves of which hit a rocky shore. Lake Baikal is an extremely deep and cold freshwater lake that contains almost the same amount of water as the five great lakes in the United States combined.
So began our long and difficult journey through Siberia. For hours, the mountains that gradually turned into densely populated plains with white birch and spruce forests were rarely interrupted by a blockhouse or an industrial town with factories emitting black smoke. At each stop, the train emptied as passengers burst into town to check out the many kiosks where babushkas (elderly women) sold bread, eggs, cheese and flowers.
We arrived in Moscow on September 6 at 4:00 p.m. We only had a few hours to wander around the metro and find the Interpol Hotel, where we bought the last two tickets for a train that left that evening. The next morning we crossed the Polish border and a few hours later we were in Germany and comfortably ran to Luxembourg and our plane to New York.
We had spent two and a half weeks in the great empire that stretched from Hong Kong to Eastern Europe. It was an unforgettable journey that allowed us to see a world that is different from ours in many ways. Even so, it was inhabited by ordinary people who treated us with hospitality. We now look forward to the day when there will be no more national obstacles.