|
In a waiting room at the Huizhou Railway Station
(photo doesn't include the children mentioned in this post) |
As I approached my seat after boarding the train in Huizhou, the 8-year-old boy who would be sitting across from me excitedly announced to his mother and younger sister, "A European!"
Before I could helpfully correct him, I heard him less certainly suggested another possibility. I then decided it was now best not to correct him.
After all, I'm not identified as an African every day.
The train's seats were sold out, and there were a number of people who had bought standing-only tickets. It had been a while since I had taken a non-high-speed train like this one, but most things seemed the same. So much life.
As the train began moving, I found it hard to get excited about being on the train for another five hours. Yet I knew most people were likely in for a longer ride. Anybody there for the final destination still had more than 27 hours to go. Five hours now seems pretty good. Did I mention my ticket cost less than eight American dollars?
It took some time, but eventually I entered a train-Zen state of mind. There was so much to take in. The 8-year-old boy and his sister carried on at times, but, unlike their mother, I soon appreciated the entertainment. For what it is worth, my brother and I at that age would have been far less peaceful under such conditions.
Now I am in Ganzhou. No, that's not a typo for Guangzhou. I could've made it there in much less time. I'm out of Guangdong province and now in Jiangxi province.
This is my second time in Ganzhou, but it has been a while. More about this place, so far from Africa, another time.
Oh, that boy and his sister . . . they still had more than 4 hours to go after I disembarked the train. I'm guessing mostly all went fine.