The Train

The aisle went down the right side of the train. Fold-down seats with a strong recoil back into an upright position line the wall against windows. Small tables, perhaps 10 inches deep, are offered for every two seats. The left 2/3's of the train are bunks 3 high, 6 to a cabin. They are perhaps 18 inches deep and spaced maybe three feet apart from each other in height. It is impossible to sit upright in the top two bunks. The bottom bunks provide headroom but are used as couches by random strangers. Spidery passengers use other bunks as ladders up and down instead of the micro-ladders.

I got to the train late-ish. Sometimes you get a spirited cabbie, sometimes you don't. When I got onboard the luggage racks about the fold-up seats. I had to pile my backpackers bag and my laptop bag on the bed while tucking my book satchel underneath the bottom seat. Needless to say this took an already cramped situation and cut my sleeping space in half.

* * *
I managed to make the sleeping space bearable. I threw a comforter over my bags and propped my feet on them. For the first time in awhile it was relatively easy to pass out when night came. I didn't sleep the night before and got only a few hours as we passed through Hebei province at the begining of the trek. I think it's easier for me to sleep in slightly situations than in comfortable beds.

I woke up at 2am though. A soft-spoken English-speaking employee of the constuction arm of SinoPec (Chinese state-run oil company) was sitting at one of the chairs watching the nightscape of Sichuan Province unfold. We had an eerie conversation in the darkness. The mining outposts in the mountains lit the train as we passed by. I had a vaque idea that somehow, in some way, the afterlife vaquely resembled being on a 27-hour Chinese train ride.

* * *
I tried falling back asleep. I turned to put my headphones on - Mogwai had knocked me out earlier in the night. I moved and felt something fall.

THUMP!

I had twice dropped my Chinese workbook to the floor during the voyage. A gruff looking man escorting his son to his first day of college lifted it back up to me both times.

I looked down. My pillow was slumped against his body and it had knocked his tea cantine against his head. CRAP! I rolled over facing the wall and fell into uncontrolable quiet laughter.

Play it cool. Pretend like it was the girl sleeping above me.

After a few minutes I rolled back over to plan my rescovery operation. The pillow was gone. I looked closely. The man's head was propped twice as high as it was last time, my pillow a kindly gift from the gods above.

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