April 8, 2001 (Day 32)

April 8, 2001 (Day 32): Bell Tower Hotel, Xi’an – 8.20pm

Morale: good. Easy day today. According to my notes, we are 40% done – time-wise. Distance-wise, we have actually backtracked in a way, heading west rather than east. It won’t be the last time this trip.

Health: good. I slept remarkably well for a train. All that practice in Siberia paid off. I did not wake up when our roommates came back.

On the ride into Xi’an this morning we were joined by the leader of the Belgian tour group on our train. He was displaced from his cabin when our Chinese roommates went to visit their friends and wandered in looking for a place to sit down. He was an older, watery-eyed gentleman; his expression and complexion waxy from the night on the train. Not surprisingly, talk turned to travel. He is currently leading a group of 41 people, about twice his preferred size of 25. The two languages in Belgium cause political problems for him. In the past, he has had cases where the guides at a particular site speak French – a language his Flemish charges understand, but are insulted if he does not translate for them. Sometimes he has to interrupt long-winded guides so that he can remember everything to translate it, which insults the guides.

It is not the glamorous profession one might think. He vented about people needing to sit next to this person or not share a cabin with that person or have to sit next to a window so they could look outside – on a night flight. Sounds a lot like child wrangling.

He said his favorite place in the world is Bali. He recalled stepping off the plane and the hosts saying “Welcome to Paradise.”  And they were right, he said.

While we enjoyed talking with him, I think he liked having the chance to express some of his frustrations to a disinterested third party. It reminded me of Ethiopia when the guides would come over and sit with us to share the worries and concerns they could not share with their group – or sometimes even with each other.

The Xi’an station was the usual flurry of activity. The parking lot was orchestrated chaos, like a tailgate party at the first inning when everyone is being herded inside the stadium. It looked like there was construction underway since only one exit appeared available. Fortunately, we did not have to manage this situation on our own. Our guide, Lucy, met us at the station and expertly led us through the flow of bodies to the waiting car, restoring a bit of confidence in the hired services, which had suffered a bit under Vinh. She has been at this for over five years and she seems to know what she is doing. Tomorrow will tell.

We were spirited to the hotel literally in the center of the city across from the square housing the Bell Tower. The hotel is quite comfortable – certainly not “posh” but it feels more extravagant than what we have been accustomed to. It does not feel like “us.” While the creature comforts are nice, it feels more isolated than the dorm room. I miss that contact.

As we waited for our room to be prepared, strains of “Moon River” reached my ears. “Two drifters off to see the world. There’s such a lot of world to see.” Mancini had that right.

The day was warm (very warm by recent standards) so we went out for a walk to check out the neighborhood including the seven KFC’s in the four blocks around our hotel. We went down to the city walls, but will probably save climbing them for tomorrow.

Hit the Internet café at the telecom office and posted a message. With great interest, I watched the individual next to me coax Chinese characters out of a Latin keyboard. As he typed, a dialog box popped up displaying a list of Chinese characters. The more keys he struck the fewer characters remained. Eventually, he would move the cursor and select one.

One of the advantages of not knowing the language is the invention of meaning in all you do not understand. Across from the hotel is a billboard with a fashionably dressed man and woman in a typical movie advert pose. Yet, in the place where a typical film ad would insert a firearm, fast car, or Michael Caine, there is a camel. Indeed, a line of camels adorns the entire left side of the sign.

Gobi Pictures presents: “For a Few Camels More.” In this hit Mongolian export, subtitled “Gone in 60 Hectares,” our hero has to rescue his hot girlfriend from the clutches of an evil warlord. In exchange for her freedom, he has to steal 24 camels in 24 hours. The buzz on the street was that Marlon Brando has a cameo as the wise Camel Master, but I cannot vouch for that.

Excerpts from Anna’s journal included

In The News: April 8, 2001

• ChasingFogg15
• China
• Travel
• Xian