China As I Saw It – Episode VI – Guilin and the Li River
We arrived at Guilin airport around ten in the morning. The facility and the surrounding area were as bleak as Beijing, but there were no armed soldiers walking around, and that was a good thing.
Charles made his way to the busy parking area to arrange a car to the hotel as we watched the many vendors selling strange snacks and souvenirs. We learned that this city was a tourist area, which was evident by the many westerners milling around the airport. I was in awe when two little boys bought dried lizards on a stick from a bent and scarred shop owner with mutilated hands, and went eating on their way.
A guy with a deep Texan accent who was standing next to me smiled and commented, “I’ve been to two world’s fairs and a goat roping, but I’ve never seen anything like this!” Well, I missed the goat thief, but I had never seen anything like it either. Charles returned with a van and we headed to the hotel.
The Li River Hotel was our second experience with a Chinese owned and operated hotel. The room was slightly cleaner than in Harbin, but a far cry from Edith’s well-run establishment. The sad part… a new Holiday Inn was two hundred yards down the street.
“Sorry guys. I didn’t know about the new hotel when I booked the trip. I promise we’ll stay there next time!” Charles responded to the barrage of complaints.
My room had linoleum on the floor… and six inches on the wall. Whoever had measured had measured a foot long, but instead of cutting it, they had run the excess down the wall. Oh good. It should contain water if there was a flood.
We voted and unanimously chose to eat at the new Holiday Inn.
“We have a day off tomorrow,” Charles informed us. “I reserved a seat for us on the Li River sightseeing boat. It should be very interesting.” Those words turned out to be inadequate to describe our experience.
The river water was cloudy and polluted, full of floating debris. I was hoping that. The ship was crowded… not crowded would be more accurate. If you got up from your seat to take a photo, forget it. A Chinese man on vacation was in your seat… and he wouldn’t get up. One’s only hope was to play the same game. Within half an hour, none of our group was sitting together.
The scenery was beautiful and interesting. The gray and black mountains, steep and pointy, looked like upside-down ice cream cones. Ancient tombs carved into the hillsides could be seen through the undergrowth. Women washing clothes, as well as people washing their bodies, was commonplace. Willow groves lined the riverbank and provided a tasty treat for the hundreds of water buffalo along the way.
They served a meal on board. Mine came in a small box that had obviously been used before. Looking around, it was clear that most of the boxes had been used before. When the box was opened, she revealed a small serving of fried rice, three wrinkled shrimp, and a pair of wooden chopsticks…also used before. I wasn’t aware of the fact, but I must have been staring at the unappetizing morsels for some time when the lady next to me gestured to the box, then pointed to her chest. I was going to eat thatwas the obvious question. I assured him no and handed him the box. The content quickly disappeared.
I went to the railing to take a photo of one of the tombs as we passed an identical tour boat on its way back to Guilin. At that moment, I felt very grateful that I had passed the box of food to my travel companion. At the back of the passing ship, where meals were being prepared, three Chinese workers cleaned the used boxes with rags and stacked them for the next trip. That was terrifying, but not the highlight. One of the crew members was washing her feet in the same large pot where the shrimp had been boiled. That was the highlight. We all had a good laugh that night over drinks at the new Holiday Inn.
It was at this point that it began to sink. What we were watching was not a fictional movie or play about life in a foreign land. What we were seeing was the real China. A culture we’ve never heard of… a culture most people never get to see. I knew then that one day I would write these stories.
We were having breakfast at the Holiday Inn the next morning when two young Chinese men, a man and a woman, interrupted us.
“You are from America?” asked the woman. Her voice was delicate, like little bells, and her English was quite good. They were both smiling widely.
“Yes, we are,” was the response from several of us.
“I’m Foo Yee, and this is Miss Hu. They sent us from our factory to accompany you on the train to Liuchou.” The young man was short (not surprisingly) with a round face and an ever-present broad smile. The girl was small, with little variation in figure from her, but very attractive and… she’s fine, I’ll say it. She was pretty hot.
“I am the assistant to our factory leader, Mr. Chong Pei. I will be the one to translate all the documents and interpret for your visit. Miss Hu is my assistant. The train leaves in two hours. We must not be late nor will I face the music of my leader”. Foo Yee’s smile grew even wider.
I also smiled. A Chinese with a sense of humor. Sense of humor in English.
“I’m looking forward to my first train trip in China,” I commented. I had no idea what was in store for me.