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From a Coffin-Sized Bunk to the Holiday Inn

(Thursday night, on a train from Xian to Guangzhou, China)

I was somewhere in the middle of China and I was dying.

After two weeks of research work in Beijing I was taking a week’s vacation to travel around China by myself before heading home from Hong Kong the following Saturday. I had just spent several days in Xian, an historic city in central China, and now I was in the middle of a 30-hour trip by "hard sleeper" train to the southeastern city of Guangzhou. I could have flown to Guangzhou, but I wanted to see and experience as much of China as possible. Now I was getting an experience I hadn’t counted on.

We were probably somewhere in Hubei province, right in the middle of China. Earlier in the trip I had been able to see from the train windows the loess hills of Shaanxi province, some of the cave dwellings I had heard about but never seen, plenty of the bleak countryside of Henan province, and several of the gray Northern Chinese cities that all began to look pretty much alike. Now it was dark and there was nothing to see except railroad station platforms at intermittent stops.

The night seemed to last forever. I calculated and recalculated the time remaining until morning. I had to urinate frequently, which meant climbing out of my second-tier bunk and hiking to the lavatory at the end of the railroad car. Worried about dehydration, I drank a can of coke I had brought with me. When that was gone, the only liquid I had left was a can of Chinese beer that my friend had bought for me when he saw me off at the train station. Knowing I needed fluids, I tried to drink the warm beer, but just couldn’t get it down.

I lay there in my bunk until the attendant came through in late morning, still several hours from our destination, rousting everyone from their bunks so he could change the linens. After being evicted from my bed, I had to sit on the bottom bunk for the remainder of the journey. I was feeling woozy, but managed to keep from passing out. I passed the time of day with the other denizens of my compartment. Two young women, sisters returning to their jobs in Guangzhou and Shenzhen after a visit to their home in distant Xinjiang province, took pity on me when I told them I was ill. They offered me much-needed water and a pear as we sat on the bottom bunk of our compartment. When the train finally arrived at the Guangzhou station they insisted on helping me with my luggage. It must have been supernatural strength that got me out of the jam-packed station carrying four pieces of luggage. My two friends insisted on taking me to my hotel by cab. They insisted on paying, and the driver refused the cash I offered. Do angels speak Chinese?

The Holiday Inn was a treat after my horrific train ride and four nights in university guest houses--not the most comfortable accommodations in the world. I contacted my friend "Joshua", who lived in Guangzhou. He had been a student at the university in northern China where I had taught 9 years earlier. He often came to my apartment at that time to talk with me and my wife, and we became good friends. When he later moved to Guangzhou to work in a Swiss company he chose "Joshua," our son’s name, as his English name. Over the years we had kept in touch and I had come to Guangzhou for a brief visit with him before returning home via Hong Kong the following day.

By evening I was feeling much better. Joshua took me for a ride on Guangzhou’s new subway. We strolled through parks, enjoying the warm spring night, and visited Joshua’s favorite restaurant before I returned to the hotel for a good night’s sleep. Reaching my hotel room, however, I again felt ill. I got ready for bed and fell asleep.

**

(Friday afternoon, Guangzhou, China)

The hotel clerk came back on the line, "He must be sleeping."

Joshua was in consternation. he had called the hotel in the morning to say good-bye to Fred and received no answer. Joshua was determined to say good-bye to Fred before he left, as he had been unable to do so during Fred’s visit the year before. Joshua later left a message for Fred to page him, but again received no response. He became concerned that Fred might never have made it back to the hotel the night before.

"What do you mean he’s sleeping?" Joshua queried.

"The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign is on," the clerk replied.

"He can’t be sleeping," Joshua admonished the clerk, "It’s two in the afternoon, and he is supposed to be on a bus to Hong Kong. There must be something wrong. I want you to go and check his room right now!"