north south east and west
Wednesday, March 25th, 2009by the Mama, who listens keenly all night
on the overnight train from Xi’an to Beijing, China
At a crossroads. That’s what it feels like.
We’re onto our last China leg, the ninth stop in seven weeks. We’re leaving Xi’an, the easternmost point of the Silk Road. We had a small taste of the exotic treasures westwards in our wander through the Muslim Quarter the other night.
But we’re not going that way; for us, Mongolia beckons. In exactly a week we should be back on another train heading towards (we hope) sub-zero temperatures and snow. Everyone’s willing on a spring cold snap, so that we will not have carried our thermals and winter woollies in vain. When we set out we were expecting to have already spent a month in the Deep Freeze by now, but plans change and instead we are now wondering if we should have packed a snow machine.
We have travelled further than we initially expected. We’ve gone from the bottom of Asia to almost to the top and in another month we’ll have gone from (close to the edge of) one side right the way across to the other.
But first things first. Next stop: Beijing.
I’m actually ready to leave China behind, but the children have Beijing expectations, namely to walk part of The Great Wall and visit some Olympic-ish buildings. It’s not that I don’t want to do those things, it’s not that I don’t like China, it’s not that I even share a traveller-we-bumped-into’s thoughts.
”Don’t go there,” he insisted, “It’s dirty, the people are dirty. In fact, they’re disgusting. They spit their bones on the table and hoick all over the pavement. Don’t go there, I tell ya,” he brawled at us.
As it happens, the bones-on-the-tables suit us quite well! They disguise our children’s dropped-rice-on-the-table! And at least you don’t step on them like the bones-spit-on-the-floor in Vietnam.
As for the snotty pavements. Fellow Traveller was right enough. There are some things one does not become accustomed to easily and this is one of them. But not reason enough to avoid the country completely. You just gotta watch your step. Every single one!
We’re glad we came. We have had rich and varied experiences here. We have met friendly people, we have played paparazzi, we have ridden bicycles and walked miles, we have taken in amazing views, both manmade and God-created.
But for some reason (pollution, probably) we’re paying a price healthwise. Especially Mboy6. The speed with which he has been affected is surprising. Having been completely asthma-free pre-China it has been disconcerting to watch him deteriorate to the point that now maximum-dosing him on Ventolin all through the day and night is merely allowing him to breathe. Eliminating the cough, the wheeze and the rattle is an elusive goal. How ethical would it be for a non-medical mother to don a white coat and mask to administer some of her own as-yet-unrequired-Flixotide stash to her rasping son? Unhippocratic, no doubt, but tempting.
Hence my eagerness to take the northward road….and westward to Europe….maybe even to the other end of the Silk Road.
PS. If you’d like to read more of the Muslim Quarter walk, a truly warts-n-all account, then take a peek here at Dad’s post. Because I link to it, I get right of reply 😉
1) Rob and I knew where the kids were at all times (although would have happily lost a few of them, momentarily at least)
2) I’m not sure how dinner revived us. No-one even like it. It was a dumpling soup that tasted weirdly of aniseed and made your tongue numb and your lips tingle. JFTR.
3) Guess where the dragon shirt seller whisked us away to! We zipped up the alley, around the corner, past rows of stalls and into the very first stall we had bargained in earlier. Actually, we hadn’t really bargained at all – when we offered our first price the lady turned away in disgust and told us off for not mentioning our price sooner. So I was quick to tell the helpful man that this shop was too expensive for us, but he entered into negotiations us, “his friends”…and we were soon the owners of one black shirt with dragon for only 10 yuan (NZ$3) more than the original offer we had made.
4) The not-young boy in the first haircut photo would like everyone to know he was out walking, but Grandpa put up a picture of him under the description of young boys having their hair cut!
5) Soon we will realise having haircuts at this point in the proceedings was not the most prudent act just a couple of days before a sizeable temperature drop!
6) Finally, Dad’s description of the bedlam is spot on!
rayres