China Trip Notes, Chapter 9: The Night Train (5.26-27.08)

Our concert in Yangzhou was very successful. Our Irish music “warm up” set in the lobby was very well-received. Each time we did one of these sets, people would stop and crowd around us, asking questions and applauding between numbers. The concert itself was great; we all felt very welcomed, and there was the usual abundance of flowers and gifts at the end.


After the concert, though, began a chapter of the trip that I personally found fairly stressful. There was a mad rush to get all the instruments and equipment back on the bus, because we had to catch the night train to Beijing. That was done with amazing efficiency, thanks to a number of very proactive students (especially the percussion section leader, who was a great organizer). The bus to the train station was longer than I thought it would be, so people were fairly sleepy by the time we got there – and then we had the incredibly challenging task of getting everyone’s instruments, equipment, luggage, and bodies through the train station (and its security x-ray machine) and onto the train platform. This took a LONG time, and was done with much sweat and scurrying, even though the same aforementioned percussion and brass guys did yeoman service. Then, we went down to the platform and prepared ourselves for the real mad dash -- getting all the equipment onto the train when it pulled into the station. The tour director had organized two teams of Chinese helpers in addition to the band guys, and to their credit, they did an absolutely amazing job of getting all the stuff onto the train. They had a kind of assembly line going – guys on the platform throwing luggage up to the boys on the train, who hauled the stuff as fast as they could into the compartment. Efficient – thank god for big strong Band guys and the Chinese helpers, not to mention Coop and Coyotebanjo – but extremely stressful, as Chinese trains are only allowed to stay at any given stop for 3 MINUTES. The tour director tried to get around this by assigning a small group of the girls to remain on the platform until everything was loaded – apparently the 3-minute rule could be circumvented by the fact that the train is not allowed to leave if there is anyone left standing on the platform. (I wonder how the train conductors deal with this conundrum?)

When all was loaded (hardly settled, but loaded), we all piled onto the train and found our sleeping compartments. These really were not too bad. (The Chinese hotel beds were about as cushy as a marble slab anyhow, so it didn’t seem that much different.) There were 6 beds in each compartment, 3 beds on each side, one above the other. The band director had assigned lower bunks to me and Coyotebanjo and a middle one to Coop, but I traded with Coop because the headroom wasn’t really enough for a guy (I pity the poor big American band guys in the top bunks, but they fell asleep instantly, so I guess they were fine.) My only problem was that the KFC chickenburger (absolutely no vegetarian options, so forget it) had my guts in a knot, which caused a difficult and not-very-restful night for me. (Squat-potties on a moving Chinese train at 3 am . . . the hostels in Ireland are going to seem like palaces.)

Coyotebanjo and Coop seemed to be fine, and I think they had fun. The tour director had gotten a bag of snacks for each of us, so there were sweets and some chips and fruit. Coyote & Coop bought a few beers from the vendor on the train (that guy did land-office business that night – he had a compartment full of American band kids who were legal in China.) There was a short search for a bottle opener, whereupon someone found the following sign on the table between the sleeping bunks:

Below the table is device for
liberating bottles from their caps.

Coop also opened the most recent bottle of Chinese baijiu they had procured back in Suzhou, I think, or was it Changzhou? Anyhow, this stuff, made out of sorghum, makes Irish poitín seem like Dom Pérignon. When searching for a picture of baijiu, I found the following description on the web:

Usually made by distilling sorghum, it is not unlike vodka in looks. The similarities end there however. Its subtle sweetness gives one an initial "this ain't so bad" feeling, which is quickly followed by panic and a rapid search of your memory for all available objects that might assist you in removing it from your system.

Seeking to share the abundance, Coop went up to one of the University Band professors and offered him some of the baijiu, asking him if he wanted to “try some Chinese Bang Bang.” This became one of the Most Memorable Quotes of the trip.

The train trip was pretty stressful for a number of our group. The train did move around a lot, which oddly didn’t bother me in terms of motion sickness (I knew trains don’t bother me, unlike boats and planes), but the motion got to some people. Also, being a train in Asia, there were only squat-pots, and if you’re not terribly adept at them, the motion of the train doesn’t help. I did fine with it, but I think there were some people on that train who held it for 10 hours, which is just not healthy.

When morning came, we all sat around and looked out the train window, watching the scenery change as we approached Beijing. One of the things we noticed was the staggering amount of construction that was happening all over China, but it got even more pronounced as we approached Beijing. The country is changing, at lightning speed. We saw quite a diverse landscape out the window: beautiful gardens on the one hand, depressing slums on the other. There were also a lot of brick-making construction sites (which are apparently the hot-point of a number of slave-labor and forced-labor issues, I discovered later.)

Finally, we reached Beijing, and the same scramble for bags and equipment happened in reverse order. Miraculously, everyone had all their belongings, except for the little red and black bag Coyotebanjo and I had bought in Changzhou, which had in it all the presents Ming gave me and a bunch of other stuff. (Our bags had been distributed all over the train compartment in order to have enough room.) Coyotebanjo and The tour director somehow talked the conductor into letting us back into the now-locked train, and Coyotebanjo found the bag quickly.

The heavy equipment was put on a van. It then became clear that we all had to walk, with all of our suitcases, instruments, and various paraphernalia, out of the train station (not a small distance) and then a couple of city blocks to where the buses were waiting. At this point in the story, I ask you to ponder the concept of a train station in a country with 1.3 Billion people. Perhaps a picture would work better:



The street was a total mass of humanity, and we were all moving at different speeds. In this sort of situation, someone my height has trouble seeing the rest of the group, but I did OK, although I frankly thought that for most of us, it was way too long a walk to carry that much crap.

Somehow, all 66 of us got to the buses. We were introduced to our tour guides, Maggie and Lisa (it’s very common for the guides to assume a western name. It’s supposedly for the ease of the western tourists, but probably also so they don’t have to be subjected to hearing us butcher their Chinese names.) They were wonderful; friendlym entertaining, and informative. Off we went to the hotel in Beijing – tired, but full of adrenaline to finally be in Beijing, where the biggest concert would take place, where many of us were greatly anticipating some of the sight-seeing activities, and where Coyotebanjo, Coop and I actually would play a session at a pub.

Next: climbing up the Great Wall of China.