Guess You Had To Be There ...

In the last week I have seen:

* A girl, about 4 years old, squat down outside a clothes market, spill the contents of her bladder on the pavement, not wipe (or even be offered one, the mother was just watching impassively from a distance with the other child), and happily jump up and run back to join them before they walked off, fresh urine gracing the pavement.

* A toddler, about 2 years old, squat and relieve herself on the floor of a restaurant in which I was eating (actually I didn't SEE this, I heard it from where I was sitting, the splash was quite audible thank you - I leaned over the table to check I wasn't imagining things, and the yellow puddle was more than a giveaway). The mother / co-proprietor of the restaurant just said to the grandmother to get the mop. In she comes, I don't even know if the mop was damp let alone wet, there certainly wasn't a bucket to accompany it (the Chinese havent got a clue what mopping is really like or for) and she "mops" the urine up, except it's not really mopping is it? It's just SPREADING it across the floor to evaporate faster.

* Finally, this week I have seen a grandmother sitting outside on a step, grandchild in lap, now you would have the child on a knee or something right? Or sideways? Or facing you? Or anything really, EXCEPT facing out, one leg on each of your legs, the split trousers (remember my rants on them?) gaping open exposing all to the elements and anyone who happens by. I don't know whether the grandmother was making the soothing "shhh" noises they use to encourage their kids to go, and I don't want to know.

I've been told urine is sterile at the point of exit; true or not, you wouldn't clean your pans with urine just because of this, and you would certainly balk if someone had a slash right in front of you, in a dining area no less.

This is foul, disgusting, backwards, dirty, horrible, filthy, unhygienic, irresponsible behaviour, and I cannot see why it is happening in a major city, in a region which borders on at least 7 other countries. What the hell kind of impression do you get of China if THIS is the first place you see, and THESE are the people who live here? I could understand if it was a village maybe, but a fairly developed city of 2 - 3 million people, with cars and internet, chain stores, internationally sourced goods?

Can you imagine Birmingham, Nice, or Dusseldorf with people like this? China needs a kick up the arse (and possibly one to the crotch).

A Friend In Need ...

A combination of what I think must be lack of sleep, poor dieting habits, and the change in weather (combined with the social effects of cold temperatures such as more people using buses ergo more germs being shared in close proximity for prolonged periods) have recently conspired to take their toll on my body. This afternoon demonstrated to me that having friends and a small network of known places around a city, or on a particular route can be invaluable.

I've not been feeling so well, on-and-off for a couple of days. A couple of weeks ago at the gym I felt quite bad but continued my workout and came away feeling much much better - you know the sweaty, dizzyish start-of-illness phase ... well that workout must have done something (sweated it out?!) because I perked right up. However the weather changed recently, from being just a bit cold to starting to snow. Apparently it's late for this year. Well equally late is my uptake on buying winter clothes; the problem is I was told it would get cold but there were just no SIGNS of it. In fact on Sunday afternoon I looked out of my window around 1500 and observed the builders working away next door, and I thought to myself "wow they must love this weather, they can build later into the year" ... about three hours later, sitting in my room, curtains closed, and I heard Marta on the phone to someone telling them it was snowing. "Snowing?", I thought, "Not when I last looked!" ... But she was right. In those three hours about two or three centimeters of snow had fallen!

Monday I went to school, my layers being a thermal top, tshirt, and jumper. Not even a very thick jumper at that. I was pretty cold. The weather warmed a little in the afternoon, and also it helped that I came home in my gym clothes, mmm tracksuit bottoms, so I didn't feel the FULL effects. Nonetheless I didn't feel 100%, and I couldn't help thinking the weather was to blame. I stayed up late last night, and woke this morning feeling tired and with an aching neck and shoulders (could have been part of my gym workout yesterday but really I was hitting the chest so those parts shouldnt have hurt so much). After a lie in (okay I turned off my alarm instead of putting it on snooze, I'm so lazy) I rushed my waking up, and didnt have enough time for proper breakfast. I made it through my first class, but only just, I was definitely zoning in and out, just about to conk out on the desk, luckily the teacher didnt ask me anything! ... In the break I went to the shop and did something very stupid (but necessary) - I got a can of Red Bull, a bar of white chocolate, and a cake. I thought it was a jam roll but it turned out to just be some kind of sponge roll without the jam (boo, China, do SOMETHING right goddammit!) ... these were devoured over the next two hours (while I had a reading test, only got 66%, so room for improvement think I).

I met with my friends - Anwar and Ava - and together we decided to go shopping for some winter clothes for me. This is related to the title of this post, there's really no substitute for some local knowledge and experience when it comes to things like clothes to protect you from winters where the temperature regularly hits -20C ... I'll cut this a bit short, we went to a dept store, found some jackets I liked, then went to another one just to compare them. The second place was closing down, but it had only recently gone bankrupt so neither of my friends knew it wasn't fully stocked with goods! So back to the first place where I got a jacket (hurray!) ... It's a bit puffy, but very light, filled with down (90%) and feathers (10%), with a couple of pockets and a hood too ... and room for some winter clothes like a jumper underneath. Wearing this, we all headed to Da Bazaar (Da means Big in Chinese, I am not speaking "ghetto" thank you very much), to see if there were thicker trousers and maybe some more jumpers I could buy. We had tea in a Uyghur shop (Anwar's choice), a bowl of soup with some noodley type bits of pasta-esque stuff in it, a tiny bit of beef, and a couple of eggs, nom nom nom. Tasted good anyway! Then we browsed some stores (and I made my mind up, I want some corduroy trousers, when I have time to go search for ones in my size / the right colour). We got to some second hand stores (with some nice looking clothes, I want to go back) where everything was significantly cheaper, but I started to feel (again, and not for the first time today) not quite right. I told Anwar and Ava that I just didnt feel so great and maybe we should call it a day. To be fair it was about 1820, time to be going home really.

Heading for the bus my stomach decided it would play nice for a bit, but once ON the bus (and with a good 20 - 25 minute journey ahead of me) it started to act up. I could feel gurgles and cramps and I knew this was not going to be pretty. After about 15 minutes (yeah I managed to hold my composure that long!) I told them I felt sick (I didnt want to tell them which end it was actually going to come out of) and they asked the guy sitting in front of us - we were standing - if I could have his seat. He obliged. I guess he didnt want me to be "sick" on him. Sadly, within a few seconds of sitting down it became apparent my bowels just were not going to hold. This was going to get messy fast, and I didn't want to be around for it. Kind of a shame that, it being my body and all. I told them I had a brainwave, I would go to the gym (it was right opposite the next bus stop) and just use the toilet there. They were really concerned for me, asked if I needed one of them to go with me, but I think the people at the gym know me well enough by now, so I thanked them but said no, I just need to get there fast.

Getting out the bus, I realised I didnt want / have time to take the underpass (ie "safe" route) across the road, and would instead have to go with the ordinarily riskier method of just crossing the six-lane road topside. The traffic thinned a little (or my eyes have just got good at spotting gaps in the traffic flow) and I made it across in record time. I got to the lift to the gym just in time. In time to see it ASCEND that is. Aaaaaaargh, what the hell was I going to do, about to colour the pavement a new shade of Urumqi brown (the other shades including mud, dirt, and winter grunge). Think calm thoughts. I ran out of the lift waiting area and gulped down fresh air as I tried not to think about the possibility that I may need to drop trow on a street corner. Thoughts of my brother, Mark, and his time in India filled my head. The time he'd had a bug so bad he had literally 5 seconds to jump to the roadside and squat. This was getting ridiculous. The lift was at the 6th floor and not coming down. By the time it reached the ground, I'd been joined by another man, who watched as I implored the lift's occupants to vacate quickly because I was feeling ill. I dont even know if what I said to them made sense, all I knew is there were toilets on floor five and I need them yesterday already. Reaching the fifth floor he had the decency to let me out first, and I rushed to the receptionists. Luckily my English student (Gu Li) was on the desk, at least I know her better than the others. I managed to blurt out "Gu Li I'm just in to use the toilets, I have a really bad stomach ..." before she nodded and watched as I sprinted down the length of the gym to the mens room.

Ah but what a dilemma when I got there. Where to put my coat and bag?! This was a brand new coat, I did NOT want to be leaving it on some crappy (literally) floor! Fate must have been smiling today, as one of the gym instructors (one of the nicer ones in my opinion, not at all hindered by his lack of English) entered the room, obviously about to go himself. He saw my situation and instantly offered to take my coat and bag. My brain overrode my bowels for one brief moment and I was able to ask "but what about paper?!" seeing there was none in the cubicle. "Don't worry, I'll sort it out" ... ahhhhhh thank heavens. Inside the cubicle, memories of the Great Train Ride came flooding back - longterm readers will remember my ordeal with the toilets on the Shanghai-Urumqi express train. Another squat toilet. But really, what other option was there? And you know what, it's REALLY not that bad. It could definitely be worse. If there's one good thing to come of today, it's finding out definitively that I will never be put off in future by using squat toilets. But I will definitely be carrying tissues ON me, it was just good fortune that the gym instructor went through my belongings and found my half full pack which he passed to me under the door. I emerged several minutes later, my quadriceps burning, my stomach still not quite right, and my Britishness returning with disgust for their lack of soap (what I need to carry THAT with me now?)

The point of all this is, you never know when you are going to need / want / appreciate a friend, contact, or just place you are known. Especially when your world is turning brown fast.

[[This happened about an hour ago. Since then I've had to go again (felt ill on the taxi ride home, but luckily my flat has a "normal" WC), and I'm just going to stick to lots of plain food, plain warm fluids, and get some decent rest, hope this passes. Mum, thanks for the smoked salmon, cheddar cheese, and so on which all arrived today, but I don't think I'll be eating them for another couple of days! ^_^

EDIT: all conversations in inverted commas here actually took place in Chinese, but since my audience is mostly made up of non-Chinese speakers I've put everything in English!]]

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

So, you're about to arrive in a largish city, you've never been before, and you've only made tentative living arrangements in a hostel based on some information a contact gave you and that which you've been able to glean off the internet. A good start, eh? Well, I think I would have been absolutely lost had it not been for a couple of absolute stars - Korban and "Elvis" (I swear, that's what his business card says!). Korban is a Uyghur man, 41, who seems to split his time between Urumqi and other cities, on various business. He speaks English, but only because he's picked it up over the years from talking to people as he travels - he doesn't read or write Chinese and I suspect he's illiterate where English is concerned too, but that doesn't matter. Over the course of the 2-day train ride we exchanged small pleasantries and once or twice he helped me explain something to the Chinese passengers (though his vocabulary is varied - he didn't know the word "farmer" but instead knew "agriculture", which helped a great deal, but was surprising). On Day 2, as we chatted, he offered to help me find the hostel - and me, not being quite that big an idiot, said yes please (or yesplzkthx, to you Lucy).

We rolled closer to Urumqi and started talking about family; he has a wife who is 14 years younger than he is, and 4 children ... it can't be too easy being away from them all the time. And we also compared the prices of various things - it seems to be a popular topic in China - though it took me a while to work out he was on about money, because he pronounced "pounds" like "porn" and I couldn't understand how our conversation had taken such a nosedive. (I had visions of him trying to show me the red light district, which seemed out of character for such a man!) ... The passengers next to us were all Chinese (virtually no spoken English) and they had obviously heard Korban was helping me find my hostel - the only problem was he didnt know exactly where it was. However, Elvis had an idea, and fortunately it coincided with his route home, so he offered to take me to a taxi, explain to the driver where to go, and help me that way. I must have stumbled on the jackpot of good fortune here!

(Aside slightly, Lucy you will be pleased to know the leopard went down a treat with one of Elvis' daughters, who was pawing agitatedly at some man's face - he kept winding her up - until I said she looked like a cat, and made the leopard hand to "bite" her ... she saw the funny side, as did the rest of the berth ^_^)

We stepped out of the train and into an oven. It was disgusting, but less so than Shanghai - at least we had a breeze here. Readers of the previous post will remember my "ordeal" and the fact it left me a little dehydrated, well I tell you, I was straight onto the water - I stepped off the train and made a beeline for the kiosk before coming back to Elvis and his family, who I was to follow out of the station. If I thought the platform was bad, I hadn't felt anything yet. Outside, the luxury of shade was removed, and I found myself quickly baking, worrying seriously about the prospect of heatstroke. [I later discovered via the BBC that there was a freakishly high temperature of 34C in Urumqi on Tuesday - THIRTY FOUR DEGREES, that's ridiculous, my melting point is somewhere around 25C!]

I followed Elvis and his family until we were met by a man who wanted to take us to his car - I thought, maybe this is how taxis work here, until Elvis introduced the man as his 弟弟 (didi, pronounced dee-dee, or younger brother), and said that he would take us to my hostel on the way back to their house. At this point I could hardly believe my good fortune - not only have I just met someone who will help me to my hostel, but they will do it personally, and when we arrived wouldn't even accept payment ... I have his business card though, so if I think of something nice to do in return I have that option. Babysitting, maybe. :P

By the time I stepped out of the car at the hostel I was about ready to die. I'd tried drinking water, it wasn't working so well, I'd tried pouring it over my head, that wasn't helping much either. Short of diving into an ice-bath there really didn't seem much hope for me if I stayed out in the sun. I was literally wilting, so imagine my delight as I entered the hostel and was met not just by shade but airconditioned shade at that. 冷气 (aircon, or lengqi, pronounced lung-chee) the two sweetest words in the Chinese language! The inside of the hostel was spacious, clean, and the reception friendly - by the time I got up the stairs I was bursting with all the water I had taken on, and had to run to the toilet before checking in even.

Check-in took only a few minutes, while I decided what room I wanted (based on size, bed numbers, en suite, and of course price), and the validity of my visa was brought into question (why is the visa validity period zero days?). [Oh and I completely forgot to mention, everyone had their passports checked by a Chinese policeman while on the train - he went from carriage to carriage, and had a little electronic book to enter details of travellers, maybe even check them against some database, who knows, all I can say is I'm glad I had my passport on my person when he asked, as I was wandering around, not in my carriage!] - finally I had a room though. 4 beds, ensuite shower and toilet (WESTERN), TV, fan, nice bed (a tad hard but so what), wireless internet, etc etc - 55Y per night, that's about £4.35 ... China really is excellent value for money.

I stank. I absolutely, positively ponged. After more than 2 days in the same clothes though, what do you expect? Even sitting on an airconditioned train, I still smelt bad. So what was the first thing I did when I got into my room? Yeah that's right, establish that there is Wifi to be used, and get online to chat with friends in the UK. I'm that bad. Of course I did take the time to clean myself up later, and then set out for a bite to eat - there was a place doing Kazakh food right below the hostel, which one of the receptionists recommended, so I headed down there and tucked into a big bowl of meat (hot) and noodles (er, cold?), with some bread on the side, and a drink too - total price, Y15 (about £1.20) ... feeling nice and full I came back upstairs and my stomach began to gurgle. I doubt it can have been the food I just ate, that would be far too fast-acting, and besides I'd been feeling up and down with my stomach recently ... still, the call couldn't go unanswered.

And, to keep a long story short, that little episode last night marked the start of my 吃坏肚子 or "poor stomach brought on by eating something bad" - this morning my insides are still somewhat loose, though I suppose I should try eating something and seeing how it stays (or not), and I have some small cramps but at least I'm not vomiting, and despite a slight inability to regulate my temperature (I keep fluctuating between shivery and a bit warm), I'm not feverish. With any luck this will pass in the next 24 hours and my stomach will be made of iron before I know it.

In the meantime, between bouts of traveller's diarrhoea, I think I might try and get out to the local supermarket (conveniently next door) and see what they have by way of small dry goods to eat and maybe some medicine too (Western, not Chinese).

The Great Train Ride - Day 2

Let's talk for a bit about the Chinese and how they travel. I've left this til the last day because to be honest it's not SO BAD that it will stop you taking a journey with them, but after 35+ hours certain things begin to grate, especially if you aren't used to them beforehand.

* Coughing and sneezing - it's fine to do this without covering your nose or mouth, regardless of status or education. If you do cover your nose or mouth it's okay not to wash your hands afterwards. This applies to anyone, regardless of whether they are ill or not. And it was nice to know that there were two passengers with colds right next to me in my berth.

* The contents of your lungs are made to be loudly and frequently brought up and spat out into a sink (if you are lucky, or if there are rules about spitting on the floor, such as on this train!) Gender is not an issue here, though it is mainly men that do it.

* Smoking is like a national sport, if it had been an Olympic event, the Chinese would almost certainly have had another Gold (if not the Silver and Bronze too).

Once you have got past all that, there remains only the mystery of the toilets to fathom out. How do they work? What is the bucket of water for? Why supply a toilet roll holder but no paper? How do I stop myself peeing on my trousers when in a squat position but simultaneously avoid getting my trousers on the (not so clean) floor?

They work by flushing water towards the hole at one end (at the base of a slope) and opening up a hole into which all waste may flow (and, I assume, be dumped onto the track below). Like I said before, you might as well just put a seat over the open track, it would be a lot simpler, and save the problem of when the hole gets blocked up. The bucket of water remains a mystery to me, though I did see people leave the room without washing their hands and I'm guessing maybe they washed them in this water, though why, when there is a washroom opposite, is anyone's guess. The permanently empty toilet-roll-holder ... I can only assume people either don't poo or they don't wipe ... or maybe they bring their own paper, I know I did! The answer to the last question is to wear shorts.

Anyhow, I woke up on Tuesday morning with an urge. I think everyone reading can guess exactly what that was and how it conflicted with my strong feelings about Chinese commodes. I held it down, but of course I was hungry so I went on the bread a bit, and had some more liquid because I felt a bit dehydrated. I made the mistake at this point of going out past the toilet cubicles (thinking hmm I might try it) and wandering into a dense layer of smoke. Here I got chatting to some Chinese, and it turned out one of them was starting at XNU next week as well! I didn't get his contact details because I was sidetracked by a tall, skinny, Uyghur man with whom I had chatted previously, only this time he wasn't about the chat so much as offering me a cigarette. I tried to decline but it turned out to be less of an offer and more of a polite insistence. A firm, polite, insistence. So, I had a cigarette. Woop.

A little interjection here - prior to this event I had not even noticed there was a small hole in the floor of the washroom (just 2 sinks and a mirror). At one station stop however, it became clear what this was for - following refilling the water tanks, some bright spark had come up with a genius method for cleaning the floors, namely to pass rapid-flowing water across them (they were some kind of lino) and this hole was the exit hole. This was fascinating to watch and I'm glad I hadn't thought about washing my hands or wetting my face at that moment! Small mercies, eh.

Thinking of small mercies, my stomach subsided a bit, and I went back in the carriage. A little later on, the same man came by, stood in the ante-room doorway and offered me another cigarette. I thought I was safe because you aren't allowed to smoke in the carriage itself, but no, he was practically putting it in my mouth and lighting it for me ... goddamn. So I had another cigarette. Cough. At some point later in the day, I forget when now, he gave me a third one. By this point I had given up protesting and was just taking minimal drags - he always finished before me anyway so once he left I could just stub out the remainder. But my, what insistence! I did like after the last one though, how he told me he smokes 60 a day (my estimate had been 30) and then inhaled deeply, exhaled a fancy plume of smoke, and patted his chest with a satisfied sigh. How he has not got emphysema or lung cancer by now is anyone's guess.

The smoking done with, I tried to concentrate on how I only had 3 hours on the train, could I hold my guts in until I reached Urumqi and the prospect of a Western toilet? ... No, I could not. Even having seen some of the previous offerings that remained too much of a challenge for the primitve steel pans to do away with (and, by the way Lucy, that offered proof that girls do poo), my guts were rumbling and I needed to go. However the worst was yet to come - I locked myself in the cubicle (the "nice" one, ie: it smelt less than the one opposite it), got my shorts out the way, made sure I had paper, and noticed for the first time the small handle about shin height which was obviously for the novice squatter to steady themselves. Aha! Mint, I thought, this won't be so hard after all ... 

... how wrong could I be? Within seconds of squatting it became obvious that my lack of thigh strength was going to prove my downfall - with all the tension routed through my thighs, my stomach cramped up and I couldn't go. The irony of it all. Here I was, braving my steel nemesis, and I had stage-fright. Worse still, when I stood up, the tension in my stomach remained and hurt worse than before. So of course I tried again. And the same happened. Thoroughly disheartened, I left the cubicle and got some water in me, thinking maybe that if I pushed some liquid through it might ease everything up. A while later and I felt more the ticket. Shame this was just as we pulled into a station and the toilets were locked. Really, someone did not want me using this toilet.

Well, eventually we pulled out of the station and I holed up in the cubicle once more. Hurray! Victory! It may not have been much but it was something and man did I feel better; the only problem was my legs were cramping up fast and the cubicle, warm at best, felt like it was roasting while I battled to tidy up as the train hurtled along. To say I've had better days is an understatement. When I left the cubicle I could hear my ears start to ring, and it was all I could do following washing my hands to get a good litre of ice tea down me in an attempt not to pass out this close to our destination. But I had won!

Needless to say I felt immensely relieved after this, and my advice to anyone travelling on the trains is this - go to the toilet. Like the Nike ads say, "Just do it". It's not that bad, and it's far worse if you've been holding on!

I'm sitting in Urumqi now, relatively comfortable, but that's a story for the next post!

The Great Train Ride - Day 1 and Night 2

This might be a bit sketchy, I wasn't really making too many notes as I went along ...

I remember waking up a bit during the night, but managing to go back to sleep alright, despite my initial semi-stress over the claustrophobic conditions of the top bunk, they abated and I was able to get my head down for some much needed naptime. Thank you Marcia for the earplugs they were a godsend, there was this grill on the AC unit above me that just wouldnt stop rattling!

Anyway, dawn came and brought with it more flashes of Chinese countryside. We were making pretty good progress but still officially behind time by about an hour; despite this, I was pleasantly surprised to see us arriving into Xi'an at 1200. In my head Xi'an was some kind of northern Chinese landmark, and would put us well on our way to Urumqi. That was until I got my National Geographic map of China out (thanks Marilyn!) and realised that yes, Xi'an is northern, but no, it is not very western, in fact it's kind of central as far as China goes ... but at least I knew where we were so I could follow our journey as we stopped at various places!

About this point you are probably wondering what on earth I did during this train ride ... When I wasn't writing a letter to Lucy, sleeping, playing with the games on my iPod, or trying not to think about the toilets, I was chatting with my fellow passengers. Of the whole train I think I was the only white person ... and though it transpired on Day 2 that some people spoke a modicum of English, they were certainly quite reluctant to use it, and I was pretty much left chatting Chinese. Yes, this was a great way to try and tune my ear to the language, and pick up some vocabulary or be corrected on my grammar, but it was an awful lot of brain-work in a very short space of time and I quickly found my head spinning somewhat. Anyhow, there wasn't a shortage of things to discuss, and if there was a lull in conversation it could quickly be filled by one of the aforementioned activities or by the passing of one of the many (almost continuous) trolleys brought round by the train crew (who I nicknamed the Smurfs because of their blue uniform) serving anything from ready meals to trinkets.

Sticking with the Smurfs for a bit, it was also in their remit to look after the carriages, as far as I could tell they were assigned their own carriage, maybe one between three (to allow for shifts, etc) and they had to do stuff like sweep the carpet, check tickets (and exchange them with customers for the relevant boarding card, a plastic ticket you kept instead of your own ticket until you left the train at which point it was re-exchanged), and last but not least, clean the toilets at every (or most) station stops. This also included locking them on the approach to a station, so people wouldnt flush onto the station tracks while the train was by the platform. God I do not envy those women - 5 days at a time on the train (Shanghai - Urumqi and then back again, followed by a week off), and the state the toilets could get into, well ... it just wasn't nice. I'm no real fan of second hand smoke but when it's covering the smell of whoever has just been in before you I know which I'd rather. Still, I didn't want to very much, and to this end I was avoiding eating the local food, knowing it would send me running straight to the stainless steel pit of horror. I stuck rigorously to bread and topped off with sweets every now and then, drinking juice or ice tea to keep on top of my fluids.

By nightfall we had passed Lanzhou and were heading into semi-desert. I'd been for a walk down the train, seen the Soft Sleeper berths, the dining car, and ascertained there were NO western toilets on the T52 / 53 from Shanghai to Urumqi. This only reinforced my resolve not to go. I think by this point I had broken my golden rule about sleep, and succumbed to a very nice slumber in the afternoon, headphones on, AC above me ... this didn't help my sleep much during Night 2, but hey, I seem to be getting used to this whole tiredness thing!

Throughout the night I could read the ever-scrolling message board opposite me, which had (in among the Chinese) such gems in English as: "NOW TIME 2043" and "TRACK NOW BE LATE", as well as regular updates on the train speed and external temperature. From this I gathered that we were no closer to making up our lost time, and would remain a full 90 minutes late until sometime in Day 2.