Saturday, February 23, 2008

A conductors interrogation




All the tickets were sold out.... so I was going to have to stand in the train for 6hours. Lots of fun because the crouds on the move during Spring Festival are impressive. But when my nose arrived at the railwaystation 10 min early, everyone appeared to be in the train already. One of the conductors who had just been warned about my 'late' appearence, stuck his head out of the door and welcomed me into that same wagon... he was realy interested and as he walked ahead of me through this dark place he kept asking me questions in Chinese... Next thing I new I was to sit down in that very place with only this man......and again it was very dark.
With my cell in one hand I was wondering wether this was going to be good or bad.
Luckily I heard a familiar sound a couple of minutes later. Someone was snoring heavely at the other and of the wagon....
My conductor went on with his interrogation in Chinese and I felt more and more at ease and happy because I could practise what I learned last week in my Chinese classes. The best thing I did then was get my study book out of my bag........as there was no stopping this man then.
The light caught up with us quite fast and some of his colleages now joined us, offered food and kept on comming and going for the next 6 hours up to my arrival in Pingyao.
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Mountain village

Xinxiang: as I am unfolding my-self trying to get out of an indeed charming and cosy minivan (ones flexibility must increase when allowed this much space in vehicles...)
my eyes start wandering the streets. They stroll into the taxis where they immediately notice the security cage the driver sits in: against crashes. It looks more like they expect the passengers to behave like dogs... or maybe the drivers themselves might do so...

Two days ago I arrived in Shijazhuang, the place where New Times is settled. New Times is the organisation that helps me to find a (volunteer) teaching job.

Accompanied by Jenny (from New Times) all the way in the minivan experience, we now are waiting for a car to pick me up and bring me to the mountain village school where I will be teaching the next 3 weeks.

As promised there comes the car and when opening its doors 4 man come out! Jennys services stop right here and I am delivered to these 4 man, 3 of them appear to be english teachers, but they whisper something like "sorry, my english is poor"...
After 10 minutes the car stops in front of some giant shopping mall where I am guided through by mister Li (one of the 4) . I will need some stuff here for in the mountain village and that is why mister Li as personal coach now is guiding me through the process of grocery shopping....hilarious. But I felt not realy at ease.

When the shopping fun is over, I enjoy the senery. I sit next to the driver with all the english teachers silently sleeping and mumbeling in the back and wonder what 3 weeks of silence will be like......

As soon as we arrive at the school my luggage is taken out of the car and carried away. We all follow my luggage and walk into the office of the headmaster who gives me a warm welcome in Chinese. Than a new face walks into the room, another english teacher.... a girl, she translates the headmasters speech and tells me she will stay with me, the 3 weeks in this school, cause apparently I need someone to take care of me.....

2 of these weeks have passed by now. The english teacher: miss Zhang, has been looking after me day and night, but she has not been the only one......

Also......the whispers of the man in the car, became louder and more frequent and soon they where proper conversations......the man where just shy.

Just like these man most of the people I meet here pass this phase of being shy and mumbling.
And just like miss Zhang people take care of me and overwhelm me with their hospitality.
I made friends with a lot of teachers and have been invited to their houses, met their kids, had dinners, gifts and all kinds of food brought to me... Apples are a real common and populair Chinese gift, so imagine by now I can start an apple store.
You are never allowed to refuse any gift or food as that will make them feel realy embarrassed.

From the look in their eyes, their warm heart seems never ending. Their honesty and simple way of expressing seem so pure. It still touches me the same way everyday and is one of the only things I am not "used to".
I even received free stuff from shop owners in the village; have been, individualy, welcomed by 3000(!) students (that took me 2 weeks...yesterday I had the last new class...the 38th); and invited over to their houses.

I have sung in all 38th classes; danced in some; I have been asked to model for countless pictures: cellphones, cameras I even did some proper shoots with students, entire classes, teachers and families.....

Cambodia

Traveling has always made it easy for me to write.The use of traffic somehow creates "wordbombs" in my head that explode uncontrolled.
Floating on the wide brown Mekong, yet again my brain is 3 steps ahead, making it hard for my pencil to follow.....

Cambodia. It has been about a week and the country has lived in me day and night. In bed I still see the faces, feel the traffic crossing with its motos; hear the voices of children selling books (mostly coppied lonely planets); people begging; tuk-tuk drivers pushing you to take their ride.

Now heading to the border with Vietnam, by boat, staring at the brown water that doesn't reveal anything, I realise that Cambodia is still as big a secret to me as this surrounding water I'm floating through right now. I only heard the fist tones of the song that makes this country. But missing most of the concert the impression is not less. Having seen capital: Phnom Pen and the massive Angkor I've seen masterpieces. I pitty they were touristic places that didn't give me that much of a feel for the people.... you can tell things by their faces, yet you don't know the stories behind their stare.