Travel China by Train

Before traveling in China, I thought that traveling by train was an expensive, inconvenient, slow way to travel. Well, in China, trains are definitely not expensive, compared with the US. Also, a long trip in a sleeper car is really much more comfortable than sitting on a bus all day, and is definitely more convenient than driving cross-country as Americans often do. Though not as fast as flying, an overnight ride in a sleeper can leave you feeling rested, instead of feeling groggy like I do after overnight flights. The best part about trains in China is that it's like a big party. If you are studying the Chinese language, this is the place to learn. The passengers always meet each other, talk, eat together, play cards, and make friends. I have, however, had some horrible train experiences in China, but they were avoidable for the most part. I'll give some advice on which train tickets to by, how much they cost, and what you need to take with you on a long train trip.

Taking the train in China is very different from the Massachusetts commuter trains I grew up riding. Chinese people seem to prefer taking the train for long trips, which often means sleeping on the train. The sleeper cars are designed to squeeze the maximum number of passengers into a small space. All sleeper cars have berths arranged in cabins, with two rows of bunks facing each other. There are two types of sleeper cars, 软卧 (ruǎnwò, soft sleeper) and 硬卧 (yìngwò, hard sleeper). 硬卧 yìngwò is the cheaper option, and the beds aren't actually any "softer" than 软卧 ruǎnwò, which is more expensive. The only difference is that the soft sleepers are in private cabins with only four berths each, two high bunks (上铺, shàngpù) and two low (下铺, xiàpù), with a sliding door for the cabin and doilies and a vase of plastic flowers on the table (see picture). A person brings you hot water for tea, instead of having to get it yourself. The "hard sleepers" are stacked three bunks high; the middle bunk is called 中铺 (zhōngpù, middle berth). Our favorite is the highest "hard sleeper" bunk, which is over eight feet (2.5m) from the ground, well above the hustle-bustle in the aisle and below, and also the cheapest sleeper. There's just enough headroom to recline and read. You get a pillow and warm blanket, and the bed is long enough for anyone (I'm 5'11" and have about two extra feet of bed). Brandon always gets the high 上铺 berth across from me so we can talk. For shorter trips (preferably not overnight), there are 硬座 (yìngzùo, hard seat) and 软座 (ruǎnzùo, soft seat) tickets, which are even cheaper. Both have pairs of cushioned benches or seats facing each other and a table in the middle, usually with a bit more legroom than airplanes.

The fun part about the train is talking to people. On sleeper cars, the very bottom bunk is often taken by older people who don't want to climb, and they'll usually invite everyone else down to sit on their bed and chat. The bottom bunk is the only one with enough room to sit up completely, and across from it is a little table with two fold-up chairs by the window. Everyone first needs to ask where the other people are from, what they do for work, how old they are, whether they are married or have a girlfriend or boyfriend, and how much money they make. Even elderly people get asked their age. The customary food to bring is 瓜子 (guāzi, melon seeds) or peanuts for a snack, and ramen noodles (方便面) for meals, and there is a large variety of foods available from snack carts that come by every few minutes. Hot water from the boiler at the end of each car is used to make tea or ramen noodles. Games of cards can last for hours, though the lights are turned out around 11. The whole train is filled with snoring at night. If you can't tolerate noise, don't expect to sleep in too late unless you have the high bunk—people usually get up early or start shuffling around luggage when the train gets to their stop. Sometimes the speakers start blasting annoying music in the middle of the night, if a stop is approaching. The one time we rode "soft sleeper", the elderly woman below us woke up at 6AM and turned on the lights to read her Buddhist prayers out loud (that's the picture above of the woman with the book).

One of our worst experiences on the train was going from Beijing to Xi'an with 无坐 (wúzùo, "no seat") tickets. This is the cheapest way to travel, but it's really not worth it unless the trip is under an hour long. We had bought sleeper tickets, but missed our train, and there was no extra fee if we were willing to take the "no seat" tickets. There were no sleeper tickets left anyway. The train left at 6PM and arrived the next day at 1PM. It was 19 hours of hell. With no seats, we were crammed into the aisles standing up with our bags, and when I say "crammed" I mean that so many people are stuffed in the aisles that it takes about 1/2 hour to push and shove from one end of a train car to the other. People formed a ramen brigade to get hot water from the other end of the train for their noodles. At about 5AM I broke down and slept in the peanut shell and spilled-ramen strewn aisle, exhausted, and was woken up every few minutes by someone making their way to the bathroom stepping on my hand or head. I don't even want to think about what was on their shoes after using the squat toilets (with hole open to the tracks below), but I had footprints all over my hands and face by the morning. So remember not to miss your train.

Ticket prices are usually quite cheap by American standards. For example, we went from Shanghai to Kunming, a 48 hour trip across most of the country, for 530RMB (about US$70) each, in "hard sleeper" high bunks. The same trip by plane cost 980RMB (about $125), which was actually an extremely good deal on plane tickets. "Hard seat" tickets for the same trip cost about 300RMB ($40). A sleeper car ticket is really cheaper than most hotels in the US, and you do save a night's hotel fare. If you want to see the country and meet the people without spending too much, China by train is the way to go.

Shaanxi Opera 秦腔 Qínqiāng

One day, as we were climbing a mountain near our house in Baoji, we heard a peculiar singing on the trail ahead. This was one of those times I realized I was very far from home. I had never heard that type of singing before. The melody, the voice quality, the words of course—all quite distant from any song I had ever heard. We caught up to the woman, and asked her what she was singing. It was 秦腔 (Qínqiāng), she said, the local style of Chinese opera. She sang for us as we climbed the mountain.

If you've never heard Chinese opera, it's hard to describe what Qinqiang sounds like, so here's a recording Brandon took of some people playing outside the Baoji train station. There are usually several stringed instruments and various percussion accompanying them. It is often very dramatic. It is also performed on stage, in full costume (sorry, the picture above is actually of 昆剧 Kunju, another style of Chinese opera we saw in Shanghai). People usually agree that Qínqiāng is louder than most other types of Chinese opera, and even some locals sometimes say it's noisy. Indeed, the singing could be considered to be a sort of yelling, but so could Western opera, each having very different ways of projecting a big sound from the human voice. Sometimes, it sounds like screaming. It takes some getting used to.

The local following tends to be among older and middle-aged people. Our apartment complex's guard 阿姨 Āyí (Aunty) listens to it all the time in her guard shack, often singing along. Brandon enjoys watching the Qínqiāng marathons on TV. It sometimes airs on several stations at the same time. He also sings along. I like it when there are people playing on the street, at the train station, or on the mountain. Sometimes people hire a band for funerals, which are sometimes held outside in the front yard. Many young people say they like Chinese pop music better, just as many youngsters in the West feel about Western opera, but I think that Qínqiāng has real character and deserves appreciation.

Chinese Medicine Experience

A common question I get from home is, "Have you ever felt in danger while you're in China?" No, not until my experience with Chinese medicine. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Chinese medicine in general, I take 双黄连口服液 (Coptis chinesis) whenever I'm feeling under the weather, and 正红花油 (red flower oil, see picture) is great after a long train ride. I do, however, have a problem with having Chinese medicine injected in me without permission! Next time I'll go to a reputable doctor of Chinese medicine, who doesn't give a liter of salt water and penicillin for a cold.

After not getting over a cold for three days or so, I decided to ask my boss for the day off work. They insisted I had to go to the doctor first (they really meant "instead"). They were sure that a shot of penicillin would make my cold go away, but I was sure that that wasn't what doctors in the US usually do for colds. Well, I agreed to go to their doctor and have the penicillin shot - boy was that a mistake! I should've known that my boss would take me to the cheap doctor, not the good one.

The doctor's office was in a building you wouldn't expect, right next to a restaurant. They sold medicine at the front counter. The doctor agreed that penicillin was the cure. He told me that no, there wasn't a pink syrup version like I remembered having as a kid, it had to be administered through IV. He really wanted to practice his English on me, but I kept to Chinese, knowing that it would be easier to get straight answers that way, and I just wasn't in the mood. He insisted the whole time that I looked like an Englishman, not an American.

I had to go and lay down in the back room to have the IV administered. It was full of people, including a crying little girl with her grandma yelling at her because she was crying from her shot. Of course, everyone watched the foreigner get his IV put in, and had something to say about it. There was a nice pregnant woman across from me, but she fell asleep after we introduced ourselves.

They told me the IV would take two hours. "What exactly is in it?" "Well, this one is just salt water," the nurse told me. Why did I need to sit for an hour to get a liter of salt water put in my blood? They said the second one would be the medicine.

After the saline solution was done dripping, I realized that I really had to go to the bathroom. Great. One hour to go. Now there was an old man moaning next to me, and the pregnant lady's husband came and started cooing and fawning over her. I pretended to sleep, but really I was just waiting to pee and get the needle out of my hand.

Finally, it was done, but someone was in the bathroom! It sounded like they were washing something. Yes, there was a washing machine in the bathroom, and they had been washing their lab coat. The bathroom was dirty, not a good sign in a doctor's office. After my urgent matter was taken care of, I noticed a strange burning sweaty sensation all over my body. I went and asked the doctor, who said it was the bad 气 (qì) being released or something. "What was in the IV?" I asked. "Penicillin...and Chinese medicine". "Um...what Chinese medicine? Why didn't you ask me first?" He then told me the name of the medicine, but of course I didn't know it in Chinese, and he didn't know it in English. The whole ordeal cost 50RMB ($6). Thanks alot, doc. At least the cold went away.

Shaanxi's Noodles 陕西的面条

Well, as I said in my earlier post "A Day In The Life", the noodles here in Shaanxi are the best thing since bread and butter. We have them almost every day. They're always hand-made, fresh on the spot just before cooking, or fresh noodles can be bought on street markets ready to cook. Like most food here, the noodles are flavorful, with lots of garlic, cilantro, fresh vegetables, vinegar, hot peppers, and 花椒 (huājiāo, which we apparently call "Sichuan peppercorns" in English, though they're not your grandma's pepper, unless she's from Sichuan). Many noodle places will have 10 or 20 varieties posted. (The picture to the left is actually not of a local variety (it's 牛肉拉面), it's good too though!)

My favorite kind is biángbiáng noodles, which actually remind me of Italian noodles. They are wide, flat noodles, about an inch wide, and they usually put four things on top: meaty gravy, spinach and beansprouts, little pieces of fat, and 西红柿炒鸡蛋 (scrambled eggs and tomatoes). There are many variations, including a meat-only version. They bring the bowl of noodles out with the stuff on top un-mixed, and most people add some 辣子 (hots, mashed jalapeños in oil) and maybe some salt. There is no broth, you just mix everything together with your chopsticks. It's good stuff, but alittle slippery to grab with chopsticks! These two pictures really don't do it justice. The name "biang biang" sounds really funny in Chinese too, it's supposed to sound like the noodles being made as they're stretched and slapped together, I think you could say it's Shaanxi dialect onomatopoeia ("translated" to standard Mandarin). The character for biáng is actually a local curiosity, it has over 50 strokes and is not part of Unicode (it's not really a "standard" character). The picture to the left is of "biáng" written in calligraphy, from a local restaurant (sorry about the reflection). There's a whole story that helps you remember how to write it, depicted below the character and reproduced at the end of this post (with my attempt at a translation). I haven't yet learned to write it by heart.

My other favorite noodles are sàozi noodles (臊子面). They are thinner, curly noodles, with vinegary broth. They're rather spicy. The broth is really the best part. Our friend Jolin, who is from Baoji, taught us how to make them (pictures courtesy of Brandon). First you chop up the vegetables, usually 红萝卜 (hóngluóbo, Chinese carrots), 白萝卜 (báiluóbo, turnips), 葱 (spring onions), 白菜 (bái cài, bak choy), garlic, and tofu. Then, you heat up some oil in a pan until it's almost smoking (be careful, no fires!), and pour it over dried jalapeños to make 辣子 (làzi, hots as we call it where I live). Mince some meat and cook it in oil, for flavor. Cook the noodles, add vinegar to the broth, and add the other stuff. Cook, enjoy. People always say that in standard Mandarin it should be called "shàozi" noodles not "sàozi", but after consulting the dictionary I have my doubts about that. Anyway, give it a try! If it's good, be sure to leave some feedback in the comments. My next post will be more Chinese vocabulary, if anyone has suggestions or requests please comment! I can talk about more local foods and recipes if anyone's interested.

Poem for writing the character biáng, with my "translation":
一点飞上大， A dot flying up to the sky 丶,
黄河两边弯； the Yellow River with bends at both ends 冖;
八字大张口， an "8" character 八, mouth opened wide 丷,
言字往里走， with a "speech" character 言 going in,
左一幺，右一幺； a "yāo" 幺 to the left, a "yāo" 幺 to the right;
你一长，我一长， a "cháng" 長 for you, a "cháng" 長 for me,
中间夹个马大王； between them a horse 馬 king;
月字旁，心字底， a "moon" 月 side radical, a "heart" 心 radical beneath
火镰勾搭挂麻苍； ?
坐个车车逛咸阳。 riding a cart around Xianyang.

Job Search in China

Before I tell you about Shaanxi, I should share some of the valuable insight I gained through the China job-finding experience. I can already tell you that working here is not for those easily put off by linguistic and cultural challenges. It's also not a place for Americans who want to bring home lots of money. But if you want to learn a language, find your way in another culture, and travel to a mysterious far-off land, China is a great place to do it.

First of all, if you're looking for a job that doesn't involve teaching English, good luck. Without years of experience in another field, you're just one in 1.3 billion, and probably not even good at speaking or writing Chinese. In Shaanxi we met a man from India who worked as a cook in a Chinese restaurant, but unless you want to earn 400RMB (about US$50) per month as an illegal immigrant making dumplings all day, that's probably not the job for you. Teaching English also might not be your ideal job, but if you're a native speaker it can be your ticket in...actually, your tickets in and out, a worker's visa, a place to live, and a 3000-7000RMB ($375-900) monthly salary for most jobs, which is alot of money here. Sites abound for finding such gigs, you just need to know what to look for, which I'll try to lay out below.

I'll be more specific in my goals in working and living here, so you'll know whether we're on the same page. I graduated from college with a double major in Computer Science and French, and managed to fit in three years of Chinese classes, too. The Chinese wasn't necessary for finding an English teaching job, but if one of your main goals is learning the language, you'll have more chances to practice if you can hold your own in a basic conversation before getting here. So, after working as a defense contractor doing computer programming for some time after graduation, I decided to bail — I wanted something more interesting, something along the lines of teaching children rather than helping Bush's military. I wanted to come back with a fresh perspective on the world, a new language, and experience in a new line of work.

If you have similar ambitions for working in China, the first thing you'll want is a job where you can interact with Chinese people, have time to study on your own, and support yourself. One of the first thing to look for in an English teaching job is how many hours you'll be working per week. This should include classes, office hours, preparation for class, and any other time you are expected to be available for work. There are stories all over the internet about foreign teachers being duped into sweatshop teaching jobs, but if you are careful there's really no way it can happen. You must demand a contract that sets out the number of hours you will work per week, and if more work is "expected" after you arrive, go to the police. As a native English speaker, you are a hot commodity in English-crazed China, and if you end up in a job that can't keep a contract, there's nothing keeping you from leaving.

Once you've found a school with a reasonable contract, start to read more about it. Search for its name online and see if any employees have talked about it. Visit the Chinese website if you can, and see if it looks "professional". How about their English website? If they've been open long enough, and have loyal foreign employees, of course they should have a professional-sounding site. Looking back, I can see that our school was not the best choice in this regard. Start the search early so your options are open. The school year starts in September, and schools that have their stuff together will have found teachers by the beginning of Summer.

Where in China you choose to work is another important factor. In North and Southwest China, people speak varieties of Mandarin as their everyday language, and though the local dialect will probably be beyond your grasp for quite awhile even if you know some Mandarin, it should be easier than in other places where the dialects are much more distant from the official language. My problem with Northern China is really the dust, which I didn't understand to be such a problem until I came here. Being from Boston, winter weather doesn't seem to be much of a problem for me here in Shaanxi (which counts as the North). A more important factor for me was the size of the city, because as I suspected there are almost no other foreigners here, which makes it easier to meet locals. I know people who have gone to big cities like Shanghai and lived the "expat" life for a few months, mostly hanging out with other foreigners and going to bars every day, but that wasn't for me. So far, it seems to have paid off, and I'm more than happy with my choice to come here. I'll be back to tell you more about my experiences and show you what it's really like here. Here's a picture of some 肉夹馍 I had for lunch to whet your appetite.