Trains!

I like trains.

I think it started as a kid when we used to travel to my gramma's house by train a couple of times a year. There is even a memory of traveling by train with my sister at a very young age, alone, in the care of the conductor. We spent time with him in the caboose where he had a little stove in the middle of the room, with a steaming kettle. He took us out to the porch at the back so we could stand and see the stars and watch the the tracks falling away behind us as we sped along.

It is different than that here.

Here, we had tickets for the train from the city of Changsha to the city of Shanghai. There is a fast train that runs this route... but we didn't have tickets for that, they were sold out weeks before. We had tickets for the overnight sleeper train. I was so excited. Last time I was on a sleeper train, except for not sleeping and the very nasty toilets, it was quite fun.

This trip had unexpected challenges.

Here's my expectation... a little room, two bunks, clean linens, small table between them, window... thats about it. Toilets at both ends of the cars, one squat, one bowl, made of stainless steel, both as nasty as possible with slopping wet floors and terrible bad stink, open drains that you can see the ground passing by beneath you.

My expectation was too high.

Our train had no little rooms. Nope, open three sided alcoves... and (sigh) two bunks of three layers each... yup three, each with clean linen. There was a window between the beds and a very small table and a thermos of hot water for drinking. Above the window was a small TV screen with some chinese ads I think, or maybe music videos.

The first level bunk was close to the floor but high enough to slide most suitcases under (not mine though) The second bed was about eye level for me which means you could sit on the bottom bunk without bumping your head, if you were short enough. I was fine.
However sitting on bunk two was not an option... it had lying down space only as the space between bunks is far less than whatever it takes to sit upright. The good news is, you could see the TV screen from there.

Bunk three was up a ladder at nosebleed height.

Can you guess which bunks will be ours? Yup... you knew. I couldn't even reach to put my coat up there before climbing up to bed. The ceiling was about 18 or 20 inches above the bed so forget changing to your jammies, taking off your sweater, coat, or even socks... or turning over for that matter. But climb up we did, fluffed our pillows and ate ourselves silly with snacks and junk food, giggling all the while.

The TV screen was below our bed level and the very bad music coming from the ceiling speakers was underscored by the very bad music coming from the TV. Our ceiling had a bright light that they turned off at 10 pm along with the TV screen.

And the toilets... they were much smaller rooms than the ones I had used in Vietnam (just room enough to squat) and maybe they were less smelly. It means there was reduced danger of losing your balance and toppling over on the floor as you rocket along cause the filthy walls and small grab handle were in reach. And the toilet was right next to our bunk (!) as we had the last alcove at that end of the car... ya... less than ideal. The toilet didn't have a view of the ground passing beneath your bottom but you could hear it going by and feel the breeze.

Just outside the toilet closet there was a row of three sinks, so all your other bodily care was done there, out in public. It also means that, as always in China, everyone would gather there to hork up a lung or two and spit... I can't say where. One of the sinks didn't drain so with the movement of the train, the water in that basin continually slopped onto the slippery floor. Wear boots.

There were lights along the wall at each alcove and lights on in front of the sinks and toilet all night... in a word, not dark. And at 5 am the ceiling lights came back on with a brightness akin to the sunrise, 18 inches from our faces.
But doesn't it all make for an interesting story?

The Real Secret Garden

One of the joys about spending time in a new place is seeing the neighbourhood. It stops people in their tacks to see my face wandering about. It really does make them gaze in wonderment.

Within the view from my 12th floor window there is quite an extensive market among the dense housing. In fact within a short walk in two directions there are street market areas. There are also the three "super markets", the largish store like buildings that carry their goods inside, out of the weather... but not out of the cold.

The street markets are my favourite places. In some places I've been, the people actually live right there at their little store front. They just close up shop at the day's end and climb up to the bed in the loft or the bed behind the curtain at the back of their stall. But not at the market here in my area. Here, they come and bring their wares every day and go home when they've sold out, or get tired. I have seen the market double in size on a warm day, and shrink to minimal in the cold and rainy days.

And everything happens there. The stuff of life. The families are there, kids and merchants, and seniors... the card players, and game players. They have tents with food, like restaurants, kinda, that feed all the people who work there, pass by or are on lunch break. The park where they gather and play is in this same place.

Here's part of the mystery... where does all this fresh food come from? The place is teeming with fresh veggies and fruit but I never see a truck delivering anything. OK, it likely happens when I'm not looking... or still sleeping, sure. But just the other day, while busy getting un-lost, I discovered a small source, two in fact.

One area lies just a block or two behind the busy downtown street... the other is the waters edge. Since they have had so little rain here since september, the water level low enough that the industrious ones have planted greens along the river side. Very clever this... and the watering is so easy as the river is right there. Just don't think about about that water going on the food you will be consuming and you'll do all right.

The garden in the heart of the community is blocked by the shadow of the high rise apartments on the main street. I think this is a very old area. The houses in close seem to be from another time. But the gardens are lush and each small garden plot is watered by hand (actually bucket) from open cement wells. Again, you aught not look too closely at the water. And think of the inherent danger to the local children?
We in Canada are such sissies.

Not a good example, but part of my local market.

The heart of the city - who could tell?

The green at the river's edge.

Maybe a stick of sugarcane? Or a tipi of sugarcane?

Or a bag of eels?

Chinese Laundry

I have noticed that here in China, especially in this cold weather, the laundry at my house takes days to dry. We have no outside place to hang things so they get hung in the extension of my bedroom.
There is an apparatus for this very task. It's two metal rods, side by side and hung down from the ceiling by cables. These cables run across the ceiling and down the wall to a manual crank so you can raise and lower the bars to your liking. I guess you can put them up completely out of the way in case you have tall people walking around who could hang themselves accidentally.

Now some of the apartments have places outside the windows or in small balconies to hang their laundry and others just get very creative in the community.

I need to tell you that the air here in Changsha is maybe the worst I have ever seen in my world travels. From my window on the 12th floor I can see only about 1 kilometer distance because the air quality is so bad and at best I'm looking through constant haze. The only things I actually see are the ghostly outlines of the tall buildings rising above the 3 or 4 story buildings that fill the area below our window. The sky may have some sun but never gets beyond it grey colour, blue skies don't exist here. In late afternoon, you can see the sun as a red ball but you never see a sunset. The pollution close to the horizon blocks the sun long before it gets to the setting position. I'm saying all this so you will appreciate that not hanging out your laundry is a good thing. I'm thinking this because when we open our windows to let in "fresh" air, the window sill is black with dirt in half a day, and that's when there is no wind.

As I do my little walkabouts in the neighbourhood I get to see laundry hung anywhere it will dry. I have included a few photos of these creative clothes "lines" for your enjoyment;

These lines are just wrapped around the trees and you can find the laundry and the meat chunks and the chicken halves

and the fish all sharing the same lines. Note the pink trousers, the ones with no crotch yet... the child will still be toilet training.

This laundry is in front of the school hung wayyyy up there on the power lines... you can buy special sticks from your local super market for this task. They telescope out so you can reach very far up.

Towels from the spa on the bushes cause all the clothes lines were full

More laundry hanging from the power lines.

Stinky Tofu

All you China experienced folks must know stinky tofu, so this is for the non-initiated.

Well my friends, I need to 'fess up.
My last trip to China, I became aware of said "stinky tofu" as you would become aware of the sewers backing up in your basement.
It was that really bad smell that surrounded the little tofu wagons on the street. We're talking "cross the road to avoid coming too close to the nasty smell" behaviour. I could describe it like that forgotten hockey bag, some gym shoes in your locker that had been forgotten over the summer vacation. Or worse, but I'm a sissy.

Now the reality of the smell is that this brand of tofu is black, fermented until black... just imagine it. Then they deep fry it in questionable oil, and of course it's on the street with all that that would include. So my first trip to China had me wondering what amount of brain damage would allow a person to willingly approach the little wagon, pay for their purchase and then actually be able to put it in their mouths? I was dumbfounded.

Yes, you guessed it. I am living in the city that is famous for it's stinky tofu. Famous...
And my young flat-mate, Leman, actually eats and enjoys this stuff... really.
So what is a person to do? I had to try it. It wasn't easy.

After they pull it out of the hot oil, they kinda squash it with chopsticks to break the surface and then cover it in some variety of flaming hot sauce. It's served in a wee bowl and they give you your own chopsticks. uummm... it is actually delicious. I know, I know, sometimes I'm wrong about things...
I've had it twice...

Must be a surrogate?

Really, I'm thinking they can't all be hers, she can't even sit on them all at once.

Interweb connection

Yesterday, as I hung up laundry, I was smiling to myself about the guys coming to hook up our internet and putting the wire through the window. The window, of course, no longer closes but it's not like any of the other ones do either. What I had not noticed was where the wire was coming from...

Now I know... it's tied with a slip knot around a big staple and then drops, as you see here, down ten stories and across the neighbour's yard, a loop or two around the tree then off down the street, kinda tree to tree. Creative yes?

The next morning...

...picking up where we left off with the New Year's celebrations...

The rooster in the room below us begins his urgent calls long before the sun was even thinking of getting up. I find myself imagining a nice hearty rooster broth (sorry Victoria, I was tired) to warm my still very cold, now bruised body.When there was finally light, it was splendid to see sunshine and find the outside temperature was warmer than in. I went out.Our breakfast was noodles and leftovers from the meal last night... I was careful to keep my eye on my favourite dish, bamboo (safe).

It was around this time that I noticed the front door. The night before people were going in and out and living it open, and it was freezing out. I thought at least they might close it to keep in the body heat and keep out the breeze. And I didn't mention that at dinner, they put a small radiant heater under the table as we ate. It had the same heat effect as if it had been a candle, in a word, none. So now this open door thing was very troubling to afreezing foreigner. In the morning I am able to see it's a metal gate! Just bars and in some places, a bit of screen. I smile to think that the night before I think keeping it closed would have helped.

It's very odd to be surrounded by many people and yet be so isolated by a language barrier. There's so much that you want to know and your host is somewhat tired of constant

questions and has a look that says "don't you know anything?" I am surprised each time there is a plan that everyone else knows about but me, and I'm not ready...

So the first day of Spring festival is spent with the father's family (patriarchal) and the second day with the mother's. This means we are off to Leman's dad's home in the country. Leman's parents divorced some years back so it adds complications to the celebrations.They load Leman and I in the former "school bus" mini-van and at breath stopping speed and unsafe driving habits we rocket off to the rural area. The driver keeps a cigarette burning non stop while driving, and the radio volume at ear damaging levels. He's one of those drive, drive, beep, beep, drive, beep, beep, beep, drive, drive, beep... headache in a few short minutes, destination 90 minutes away, roads less than ideal.

Leman's dad's house is similar to her mom's, familiar square box, cement floor, bathroom and toilet the same room, (you just take the bucket of water in with you and be careful where you step) I must admit I had not enough courage to think of removing all my clothes at once and getting wet at that temperature... so I went a few days with no shower.

The kitchens were similar but her dad's house had no fridge at all... hence the vegetables on the floor and the fish and pork pieces on a hook on the wall, of course.

You see the veggies in cold storage on the floor... I don't know what happens in summer...

...and the fish storage...

The cook stove

And the dining room - note the rice cooker on the floor by the door, and the photos of the generation before hanging on the wall in a place of honour.

Leman walking across the road where we had to get off the motorcycle and walk because three on a bike couldn't make it either up the hill or across the impassible road. (It looks better than it is, here)

Leman and her dad - he's preparing lunch.

...more to come...