Planes, Trains, and Wagons East

Beijing has four train stations. Four gigantic train stations. My train left from the West Beijing Railway Station. It was there that I made my first big mistake of this trip. I booked the cheapest ticket I could get. The infamous "hard seat." I decided to skip two of my planned stops in China because, well, after six months in Asia I was ready to leave. So, the ride was from Beijing to Urumqi, the largest city in the Xinjang province of China, and it took 42 hours. These were the longest 42 hours of my life. Theres a lot of people in China so, naturally, the trains are crowded. Especially the cars with the cheap seats. Some people even stood for the entire trip. Not to mention the fact that no one checks their bags. After the overhead racks were filled and bags were shoved under seats and tables, they began setting the bags on our headrests and tying them to coat hooks on the walls.


My seat was softer than the "hard" label implies, but still extremely uncomfortable. Four people were situated around a tiny table, knees touching, practically unable to move. For 42 hours. The girl next to me was nice enough, but the couple across the table were difficult. They brought along their one year old baby.

Let me tell you something about Chinese babies. They don't wear diapers. They wear crotch-less pants so they get used to squatting for the wonderful squat toilets in China. Back in Beijing Sara and I had discussed this phenomenon. We understood how it could be effective outside, but we didn't understand how it functions indoors. Turns out its just the same as outside: babies piss and shit whereever, whenever. On a train. For 42 hours. Also, everyone smokes on the train. They crowd near the smoking section but inevitably they spill out into the main part of the car. For 42 hours. Each stop lasted maybe 10 minutes, but the line to get off the train for a smoke - or in my case just a break from the madness - was so long that I only had about two minutes to breathe the fresh (polluted) air and jump around a bit. I lived for those two minutes. The scenery also left much to be desired. Endless grey city or endless brown desert, with a few desert mountains sprinkled in. A couple of times I wasn't sure I was going to make it, but I did, and now I've got a great story to tell.


Upon arriving in Urumqi, I immediately went to buy a ticket to Kazakhstan and ensure a seat on the next leg of my journey. I wanted to go to Almaty, but as it turns out the railway south was closed due to snow. So I had to go to Astana. And the once-weekly train to Astana left at midnight the following day. No way was I going to stay in Urumqi for a week, so I got the ticket... this time, a sleeper.

I spent the rest of that day and the next walking around Urumqi. Another typical Asian city: loud, dirty, polluted, crowded.


But a few places had some serious charm. I found a few beautiful mosques, and the Xinjang Museum of Regional Autonomy was pretty interesting, with cultural displays of the many, many different people who live in this part of China, as well as a few desert mummies found nearby.


The "People's Park" was also really interesting with live Chinese folk music, kite flyers, and, believe it or not, trees.


An hour before my next train left I got sick, most likely from the previous train ride (China doesn't have any hand sanitizer). I was sooo happy to have a sleeper. For 38 hours. I also met a really nice Kazakh girl named Aliya who invited me to stay with her in Karganda, but I just felt too sick and I needed some time to recover. I shared my room with two nice Kazakh's, Ale and Sergei, mother and son, who only spoke Russian.


I tried to learn a Russian card game with Sergei but I couldn't get the hang of it. The rest of the time I slept and felt generally horrible. For 38 hours. Not much to look at outside on this ride either. Once the desert ended the steppe began and it was endless flatland with the dead grass of winter. But oh my god there was a sunset without the haze of pollution. I hadn't seen one of those for a while.


In Astana I wanted to accomplish two things: get better, and get a Russian transit visa. I spent two days in my hostel in the train station reading, eating when I could, and sleeping. The third day I ventured out to get my Russian visa which cost a fortune. While waiting I walked around the city with a really nice German guy I met at the hostel and had some delicious Kazakh food because I could finally eat again. Astana is a very pretty and very new city. Also very wealthy.


Russian visa in hand, I boarded the train for Kiev, Ukraine the next day.


I was finally ready to enjoy the train ride. Again I had a sleeper, and I was the only one in my compartment which slept 4. For 72 hours. Mostly steppe out the window again, until we got to the rolling hills of Russia.


But Russia brought a set of problems. When I got to the border with Russia the Kazakh border officials told me, what I already knew, that the train left Kazakhstan, went to Russia, came back into Kazakhstan for 200km, then back to Russia, then Ukraine. I told this to the embassy in Seoul and they said a single entry visa was fine. The border officials said I would have to get off the train at the next border crossing. They said they could help if I gave them money. I didn't have much cash so I said no.

During this time I met another German guy who was the only other person on the train who could speak English. He seemed nice enough, told me he'd rode this train many times and that often bribes are necessary. He lent me a bit of money just in case I needed it at the next border. Before we reached the border I befriended some Russian officials who were riding the train by giving them some "souveniers" (a pen from America, and one from Korea). I don't know if it was with their help or not, but there were no problems at any of the borders from there on. Speaking of border crossings, they all happen between midnight and 4am, and they take several hours.


Its very scary to be woken up by large men in uniform demanding to see your passport.

Later on this German guy started to give me the creeps. He talked about how Polish people were horrible theives, and so were Ukranians. I helped him with his bags in the train station once we got to Kiev (he had like 5 huge bags for some reason) but I was happy to be rid of him.

Anyway, 72 hours later I arrived in Kiev, exhausted, hungry (I didn't bring quite enough food), and with a head full of Daniel Quinn's thought provoking views on life, as his book My Ishmael kept me good company on the train. That's right folks, one hundred and fifty hours of trains in one and a half weeks. I couldn't wait to get to Europe, and now that I'm here, I couldn't be happier.

True to my word, I left Seoul on a boat headed for Tianjin, and my much talked about journey had begun. Towards the end of my stay in Korea I was seriously questioning my desire to avoid flying, especially considering my only real phobia is of large bodies of water. But, I put my head down, powered through, bought a ticket, and boarded a huge motherfucking boat for China. It was everything I had hoped for. Nice beds, a smooth ride, time to relax and reflect on time well spent on the other side of the world. And the sea is beautiful. At night, when it was ear-numbingly cold, I went out on the deck and saw complete blackness, except for a few dots of light on the horizon and the wake of the boat.


We also sailed under the longest bridge in the world, the Incheon Bridge, completed just a few months ago. Very cool.


When I got to Tianjin I boarded a bus to Beijing. I thought the ride would take an hour or so, but it ended up taking three. Once in Beijing, I managed to negotiate a taxi ride and by nightfall I had met up with my step-sister Sara, her husband Petri, and their 2 year old son, Emil. They live in a really cool studio where Sara is getting schooled on architecture. One of her classmates put me up in a hotel room he wasn't using in their village. The village, Cao Chang Di was easily the coolest part of Beijing for me. A small village on the outskirts of the city, Cao Chang Di is home to a thriving arts community along with a hard working local community trying to avoid being sucked up into the gigantic vacuum cleaner that is Beijing. I spent a few days biking around the area, eating at the small restuarants, hanging out with Sara, Petri, and their friends, and soaking up the lifestyle.


Petri showed me a really great view of the city from the top of a landfill, where we also found many kids playing. In the village at the foothills of this landfill I had one of the best meals of my life, and I got it simply by pointing blindly at a Mandarin menu.


Right next to Cao Chang Di is the center for contemporary art in the arts center of China: 798. 798 was at one time a factory complex, and now houses the most intense consentration of art galleries I've ever seen. I spent a whole day walking around the place and I'm sure I didn't even hit half of the galleries. I find most contemporary art to be strange and silly, but there was also some really cool stuff there.


One of my days I spent with Petri and Emil walking around Tianamen Square. It's not that easy with a two year old, but aside from the incredible scale of the place and the awe-inspiring feeling I got from standing in front of the seat of government of the biggest and most powerful country in the world, it was relatively unimpressive.


The National Museum of China was closed, and the Forbidden City, while gigantic, is not so very different from many of the temples I saw in Korea. Though, if you were going to visit only one, I'd say this is the one to see. Also, there are so many reasons to call it the "Forbidden City." First, locals have to show their passports to get in and some were denied entry. Second, theres like 4 gates to get through before you're in the city itself. Third, theres so many people there that you can barely move. Fourth, the ticket office is no where close to the entry way and its not easy to find. I could go on, but I won't. This is how I've found most of the touristy stuff in (developed) Asia: too many visitors and not enough satisfaction.


The Great Wall was different. It is one of the few places I've seen that has lived up to its billing. Of course, that may be because I didn't go to the touristy part. Theres about 6 sections to choose from around Beijing, and I chose the furthest from the city. After I found the bus station, thanks to the help of two German guys, a mini-bus driver picked me out of the crowd and asked if I was going to Simatai, which was the section of the wall I wanted to see. Two hours later I was climbing a ridiculously steep section of the Great Wall, unrestored, and with very few tourists.


The views were stunning, even in winter, and the scale of the wall was amazing, exciting, terrifying, and... confusing. There was no way this wall could hold up against an assault. It merely added 10 or so feet to the tops (and bottoms) of 2000 meter high mountains, making them essentially 2003 meters tall with semi-flat places for soldiers to stand. Effective or not, that anyone could construct this thing is absolutely astounding.


My impressions of Beijing were mixed. It is a huge city with an incredible number of people, many of them extremely wealthy and many of them extremely poor. The city itself I did not like. Too big, too many people, too much pollution. Basically its your typical developed Asian city, and I had had enough of that in Korea. Once you step outside the fifth ring road, though, it gets interesting and fun. The small villages give an insight into what I think is, or what used to be, real China, and I am so glad to have stayed in one of the last remaining vestiges of that culture in Beijing.

Next week on Plains, Trains, and Wagons East: The Hard Seat - Curse, or Death Curse?

Real Time Update: I've just arrived in Lviv, Ukraine after four wonderful days in Kiev.

Ok, first of all, apologies all around. My last week in Korea was extremely hectic. Combine that with the fact that China and Kazakhstan do not like blogging, and you have a long stretch of inactivity on what I assume is the most interesting thing you've ever read. I'm sure its been tough, but its all over now. I'm in Kiev, Ukraine and I can blog again.

So let's catch up.

My last week in Korea was incredible, for so many reasons. I went out with friends almost every night to celebrate and/or mourn my departure. It's a great feeling to see different people every night and know that you have amazing friends who will miss you as much as you will miss them. And I know it won't be the last time I see most of these folks... I'll make sure of that.

Also, in the social arena, I met an awesome Korean girl named Sunny. We hit it off and spent a lot of time together during my last week. I kinda wish I had met her earlier on, but at the same time, we both knew the score and it made our time together that much more gratifying.

And then there's the kids. It's hard saying goodbye to one thousand kids. Although I think its easier than saying goodbye to just a few. Either way, my last week at work consisted of the usual parade of classes, but this time, everytime, I had to say goodbye. Every class had a few students that I knew well and it was tough to say goodbye to them. There were so many shocked a disappointed faces (the Korean teachers made me wait to tell the students I was leaving until our last class together). When the class ended, after I had taken pictures, there were hugs. Lots of hugs. I never realized how much the kids liked me. As sad as it was, it was also the most gratifying experience of this entire Korea experiment, and I had it 6 times a day for a week. Pretty cool.

Other than that, my last week was pretty normal. Packing, booking tickets, saying goodbye to teachers, getting supplies for my 3 month trip... you know, the usual.

It was a strange feeling leaving Korea. The fact that my last week was so amazing made it much more difficult. That, along with intense emotions across the entire spectrum, made me second guess my decision to leave. But now that I'm gone I know I made the right decision. I'm going to remember and miss Korea, my kids, and my friends for the rest of my life.

One of the worst feelings I've ever experienced is the feeling that you've left a part of yourself somewhere far away. One of the best feelings I've ever experienced is the feeling that there is a part of yourself alive somewhere far away, somewhere you can visit whenever you want if you just close your eyes.