In which I continue to overwork the gentle comma and the sisters parenthetical

Long distance train rides will make a documentarian out of anyone. The scenes that flash by demand explanation. How were these mountains formed? When were they terraced? How many generations have used oxen to plough that field?

I got to the Nanjing Train Station with my three classmates/traveling companions about forty minutes before our train was scheduled to leave. We found the aisle waiting to board the K290 bound for Chengdu already full, and so threw down our backpacks and bags of food and sat in the aisle next to it. A boy probably a bit younger than us was going around with a cup begging for change. He stopped in front of Yang Genbao and then me; Genbao suggested I make a trip to the restroom after it became obvious the kid wasn’t going to give up. I don’t like ignoring people who obviously need help, but at the same time giving a mute boy one Yuan isn’t long term help. And also, once you have definitively revealed yourself as an easy mark in public spaces in China, you will get no rest.

Train station waiting rooms are frequented by beggars, as well as vendors walking around with maps and newspapers. It has worked out all right for me in that by telling beggars that I am not going to give me money I often let other train-waiters around me know that I speak Chinese, and a conversation can start.

This time, however, I already had people to talk to, so when our train was 20 minutes late, I wasn’t bored.

We rode in a hard sleeper car, which I think I described for my trip from Guangzhou to Nanjing. I slept in the middle bunk this time, which was a hundred times more comfortable than the top bunk. I could see out of the window from my bed this time, and had a bit more room to move around. I tried going without the Dramamine, since I ended up still uncomfortable for the whole train ride with it last time (as well as unconscious for the majority of it...). I drank lots of water, and slept a fair amount, and didn’t feel sick at all.

I learned a three-person Chinese card game (with Mitch and Genbao) called 抖地主or “Overthrow the Landlord” (which Mitch and I speculated is probably at least forty years old).

Our 25 hours on the trian passed more or less without event. The scenery was beautiful in the morning when we had reached Sichuan province (Genbao said we had passed Xi’an- where the tomb of the first Chinese emporer and his ceramic warriors hang out) in the night without knowing it. Spring is well on its way here.

The view from the train was incredible in the morning. The terraced mountains were highlighted with the occasional line of yellow safflower fields, and the light green of new deciduous tree growth seemed to be gentle waking up the dark evergreens. I love trains. I could listen to music and look out a train window happily for days, I think.

The bus from Guangyuan to Bazhong was supposed to take three and a half hours. We spent an extra hour sitting on the side of the road with cars and trucks honking at us after our driver realized he had lost the key to the luggage compartment. He left the bus’s Karaoke (卡拉OK) television on though, and I had snacks, so it wasn’t too bad.