Chinese Countryside: Day 1

Day one began with an early journey to Beijing West Train Station, which unlike the city's air transportation system, bears little resemblance to its western counterpart – except for, you know, the trains. Imagine a room exactly the size of two Applebee's, filled with hundreds of Chinese people. Half an hour before departure, an announcement is made and everyone jolts upright, out of their seats, and into what could vaguely be described as a line, with utter disregard for order or personal space. The crowd escapes gradually through the ticket-taker bottleneck and out onto the platform, where smaller groups assemble outside their respective train cars. With just 15 minutes to spare, the doors open and passengers are herded inward. Because no one has any idea where their seats are located, the result is a sweaty mess of bodies slipping past one another and blocking others as they fight over limited space (yes, there were standing passengers on our two hour train ride, and yes, they did try to sit in our seats). Let's just say my experience at the train station taught me the meaning of the phrase 'Chinese fire drill'. I was taken aback by the foreignness of the whole affair, and perhaps even a little angered, but as I was reminded by the teacher who accompanied us, 'When in Rome...'

Once out of the city, the landscape quickly changed from flat and barren to mountainous and green. The cloud/pollution cover subsided, giving way to welcoming sunshine and increased visibility of some of the most beautiful sights I've seen in my time here: hillside villages surrounding lakes, farms planned out neatly in steep mountain ravines, and other various glimpses of what the area was probably like before urban modernization. Two hours later, we arrived in Shacheng, where we caught a bus that took us to Yuxian, our final destination.

As we progressed from Beijing, we became more and more of a local spectacle. There we were, five Americans strolling down the streets of Hebei Province, luggage in hand, all the while speaking poor Chinese to each other for no apparent reason. It's an image to which the folks at Beijing Language and Culture University have become accustomed, but in a small city like Yuxian with relatively few white tourists (I've seen one, he was leaving as we were arriving), groups of Americans the size of ours are treated like packs of exotic animals in a zoo. The analogy became a little too real when we were fed crunchy puffed rice snacks by a particularly intrigued middle school girl at a park near our hotel. Everyone has their own unique reaction to us, but the one element they have in common is 'surprise'. Some just stare, others call out, 'Hallo!' in their best attempts at English, while still others bring their small children to meet us and take pictures. Our presence provides both entertainment and educational value, and parents jump at the opportunity to introduce us to their offspring. In the end, we are surrounded by large groups of oglers far more often than is comfortable.

It's worth noting that even the teachers who were with us could not escape the glares, laughter, and videotaping. If people could accept that five foreigners had indeed made it all the way to their city and could carry on a basic conversation in their language, they still wanted to know how in the world two Chinese grad students had found us. I'm sure this is a topic that's been written about time and time again, and I almost considered leaving the whole foreigner side-show commentary out of my blog altogether, but after mulling it over for a few hours I just can't believe any of it actually happened. I find myself hard-pressed to think of a situation in the US – even decades ago – in which foreigners would be regarded with such incredulity. I guess this is something I'll just have to get used to, but it is nice to know that finding people to interview for our projects won't be difficult.

再见

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