Saturday, June 21, 2014

Beyond the Rain

Before going to bed last night, I made a list of steps to be successful in this little venture. I am very nervous about trekking through the wilderness on my own, but I figured if I could visualize the different hurtles I had to figure out, it would be simpler for me to navigate.
1.       Get to bus station
2.       Find the right bus and get on
3.       Figure out which stop is Tunxi (the closest city to Huangshan) and get off
4.       Find my hostel
5.       Figure out how to buy a ticket back to Shanghai
6.       Get to the trail head for Huangshan
7.       Climb the mountain
8.       Find my hotel at the top
9.       Take pictures/see sunrise
10.   Climb down the mountain
11.   Catch bus back to Shanghai

Just 11 steps…that’s simple-ish…right?
When my alarm went off this morning at 7:00am, I was wide awake. Had I been a bit more organized, I probably would have packed last night. Since some of my laundry was still drying, I had gotten everything together but it wasn’t actually in my bag. Actually, a lot of it was still wet, so I took in the bathroom and dried it with the hair dryer.

As I did, that’s when I realized the white noise outside. I’m so used to the traffic that I don’t really
notice it anymore, but this sound wasn’t traffic. It was rain. I opened the bathroom window (the only window in the apartment that actually opens) and leaned out to see a monsoonal downpour flooding the city.

This was going to be fun!
I showered and packed up my laundry, deciding the wear the things that were still damp since they’d be getting wet anyway. My little umbrella is slowly breaking so I stopped by Family Mart on my way out to buy a bigger, sturdier one. I also grabbed a pastry for the road.

Now I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but the streets in Shanghai do not drain. Part of the reason for this is that they have sanitation workers who walk around sweeping the leaves and debris into the gutter. Beyond that, I also have not seen any drains in the streets or on the curbs. As a result, when it rains, everything floods. I was using my umbrella to try and mostly cover my backpack, but my face, chest, and legs were being pelted with rain. By the time I got to the subway, I was pretty wet.
To get to the south train station (which is where my bus left from) I took the 11 to Xinjiahui and transferred to the 1. When I got to the south station there were lots of signs to various departure points. Luckily there were also English signs with arrows that ready “To South Long Distance Bus Station.” Following those, I made my way through the underground tunnels—which were lit with black lights and sort of had a techno theme about them.

After snaking my way through the underground maze, I found a security checkpoint. Sliding my bag through the scanner and holding my arms up to be wanded, I cleared security and walked over to a large departure board. The entire thing was in Chinese—in fact I’m assuming it was a departure board, but there weren’t even any numbers on it. Heading up the escalator, I hoped that when I was up at ground level things would be a bit more obvious.
Initially they weren’t, so I stepped aside to get out of the flow of people. It seemed like a good time to eat my pastry so I pulled it out of my bag. It had the same little yellow flakes inside as the one I had bought my first week in town. As I bit into it, I realized they were flakes of coconut. I’m not coconut fan, but this was pretty good.

As finished it, I realized there was an information desk with the universal “i” sign over it. Walking over, I stood in line as everyone ahead of me appeared to be exchanging their tickets or changing seats. When I got to the front of the line, I handed the man my ticket and said, “Where do I go?”
He said, “Two.”

I looked at my ticket and found a 2 on it. In my head, I made note of the character ahead of the 2 (which sort of looked like a three sided box with an “x” through it) and figured this might be a useful one to remember for future trips.
“Thank you,” I said, and headed through the turnstile to the main waiting area. When I found the lounge for gate 2, it was packed. Once again, I was the only white face in sight and I could see several people staring at me.

Eventually, I found a seat and pulled out my phone to text my colleagues from work that I made it okay. As I watched the monitor over the turnstile by gate 2, I tired to figure out the system. There wasn’t any English and all of the announcements were in Chinese, but it appeared that buses boarded about 5 minutes before their departure. When it was time to board, the name of the city (in Chinese characters of course) along with the departure time flashed on the screen. It was currently 9:18, and my bus departed at 10:28.
As I waited for 10:28 to flash on the screen, I got a text back from Yu Cui. She told me she was proud that I found the station and added, “Have a good trip! Everything you meet, good or bad, is special experience for you. Go ahead to find China!  J

It made me smile. She was absolutely right of course. Good or bad, this is going to be one of those memories I will have for the rest of my life. It’s time to get out there, have an adventure, and “find China!”
As the clock got closer and closer to my departure time, I showed the couple next to me my ticket. They looked at it and just said, “This is right place. 10:28.” I smiled and thanked them, even though none of that was new information for me. Their bus left before mine and when they were gone, two teenage girls took their place. I showed them my ticket and they just said, “Huangshan.” I nodded and smiled, and they did the same.

All of a sudden, about 10:20, the monitor went blank and stopped displaying times. A bunch of announcements were being made and a bunch of people were getting up to board buses.
I got up and walked over closer to the turnstile. Showing my ticket to another lady, she smiled and said, “Here.” I know I thought, but do I get to board now or...when?

A curly haired man came over and took my ticket. “Huangshan?” he asked me.
I nodded.

“Not yet,” he said. “Soon.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Xiexie.”

Just minutes later, there was another announcement. I heard the announcer say a bunch of words, one of which I clearly made out as “Huangshan.” I got in line and the man punched my ticket. Another kid who looked about my age, pointed and said, “the blue bus sir.” I thanked him and went to get on the blue bus.
The bus was a large, Greyhound style bus. The seats were laid out two on each side of the aisle. While the upholstery was falling apart and shredded, they were comfortable and reclined pretty far, with plenty of leg room in between. It was also air-conditioned, although I made a note that there was no bathroom in the back. Since I had both mine and Luke’s tickets, I could choose between seat 2 or seat 3. I decided to take 2 since it was in the front row and I could see out the windshield.

As I sat down, I smiled. I did it! I thought! Now I just have to figure out when and how to get off!
There were only about ten to fifteen people on the bus and most of us were in the front few rows. The driver looked to be about 20, although I’m sure he was actually older than that. He wore dark jeans and a green t-shirt that read “I Love marshino.” Before we left, he made a series of announcements in Chinese and went through to take a head count. When he got to me, he pointed to my seat belt and smiled as I fastened it.

The bus ride was six hours. Riding the bus was a totally unique experience. Not only were we hydroplaning frequently on the un-drained, flooding highways, but being in the front allowed me to see that the driver was texting most of the time he was driving. For the life of me, I cannot figure out who has the right of way in Chinese traffic. I’ve read that it is the smaller vehicle, but it appears to be whoever honks loud enough and gets there first. Our driver was honking like crazy. He’d honk to change lanes, he honked to tell people to get out of his way, and occasionally he honked when there was no one else on the road.
I must be becoming a more rugged traveler because despite the hydroplaning, texting, and honking, I slept for about the first two hours of the ride.

The bus stopped around noon at a truck stop for lunch. I had brought some snacks with me so I didn’t get anything, but I did go in to use the restroom. When I got back on the bus, I opened my pack to get my own food. Pringles are my favorite road trip snack. I remember a road trip my Mom and I took to Gunnison and Durango one time. We took Pringles and Redvines and ever since, I’ve packed the same menu when I drive long distance (although Redvines do not appear to be available in China…so much for being a world power.) I also had some dried fruit, trail mix, and Gatorade type drinks with me.
The rain seemed to stop while we were at the truck stop, but as soon as we kept driving, it picked up again. It was pouring so hard, it looked as if someone was dumping buckets on the windshield at a rate of two or three per second. The wipers could barely keep up with it. The bus didn’t appear to have a defroster on the windshield and the driver would occasionally stand up to wipe it off with a rag—while continuing to steer with the wheel between his knees.

It was very disorienting not being able to see out the windows. I tired reading a little out of my book on Chinese history but the swerving and honking made it a little hard to concentrate. Putting my book back in my bag, I decided to listen to music and sleep.
When the bus started making really sudden stops and quick turns, it became obvious that we were in some sort of town. The windows were so fogged we still couldn’t see out, but when the bus came to a stop and the driver stood up to make an announcement, everyone started to get off. I gathered my bag and followed them, but the driver stopped me. I handed him my ticket, and he motioned for me to stay on.

Getting back in my seat, he started the bus up again and drove around a corner. Putting it in park and motioning for me to follow him, we rain through the rain to a smaller shuttle bus. He motioned for me to get on. I saw on the side of the shuttle the word “Huangshan.”
This didn’t feel right to me. I shook my head and pulled out my iPod. I had the name of the hostel in Chinese characters. I showed it to him. He scrolled down and found a phone number. As he called it, other drivers and people began surrounding me. One guy patted my shoulder, almost like he was trying to comfort me or something. When my driver hung up and motioned for me to follow him.

I did and we got back on the bus. Interestingly, so did all of the other people who had be around me at the station. They started pulling out cigarettes and passing them around. As the bus pulled away, it all of a sudden felt very seedy. I still couldn’t see out the windows, but we drove a few blocks before the bus stopped on the curb. The driver pointed out the window down an ally. He smiled at me and kept pointing down the ally, so I got off. With that he drove away.
If I thought it was pouring in Shanghai, this rain was even worse. Even with my umbrella, I was soaking wet. My clothes were plastered to my body within seconds and the rain dripping off my hair and down my face was almost blinding. I have never been so wet without being physically underwater.

And while I was impressed by the curbside delivery, the directions I had to the hostel were from the bus station. Now I had no idea where I was. I pulled out my iPod again and tried to find that number he had seen, but I didn’t see it. In fact, I couldn’t even find the email with the name in Chinese. I wonder if it got deleted in the commotion at the station.

I stood in the rain and laughed. This certainly was an adventure. He’d pointed down the alley so I started walking down the alley, still searching on my iPod for the lost phone number. Eventually, I found it. It had somehow been moved to adifferent folder. Pulling out my cell I called the number.
“Ni hao,” a girl’s voice said.

“Hi,” I said. “My name is Zach. I have a reservation, and I’m in town, but I don’t know where I am.”
“From the bus station,” she said. “Walk along the big street. We are 500 meters down the big street.”

“Okay,” I said. That didn’t really help me anymore. “What is the big street called?”
She said the name but I couldn’t understand it over the sound of the rain.

“Okay,” I said. “And is the hostel a big building or a little building?” That would actually be helpful to know because there were only a few big buildings in sight.
“It is next to the Green Tea Hotel, which is a big building,” she said.

“Great!” I said. We said goodbye and hung up. I passed a few people and kept showing them the name on my iPod, they all stopped to look at it, but they all shrugged and walked away. I kept walking through the alley, which had a solid three or four inches of water running down it. There was so much water in my shoes I didn’t know if they’d ever dry in this humidity.
About halfway down the ally, there was a barrier made of bamboo. It definitely looked like it was supposed to keep people from continuing, but I really didn’t have many other viable options. Throwing my leg up, I hopped over it and kept sloshing through the alley.

At the end of the alley was a big building. I looked up through the rain and read the sign. It said, “Green Tea Hotel.” Walking to the edge of the building and peaking around the corner, a little temple looking building popped out of the side. I didn’t care if was the hostel or not, I was going to get out of the rain.
Stepping inside, I turned to shake off my umbrella on the step behind me. As I turned around, I heard a voice said, “Hello.”

I was totally disoriented as I wiped water off my face and pulled away from my eyes. There was a man and a young girl standing behind a counter. “Hi,” I said. “I’m looking for the Cozy Youth Hostel.”
“Yes,” the girl said. “Your passport?”

“Is this the hostel?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.

“Great!” I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Digging my passport out of my pocket—it was also soaking wet—I handed it over to the girl. She recorded some information and handed it to me with my key, while informing me that they had upgraded my room to one with a private shower. I thanked her and went upstairs. When I got in the room, it was empty, but there were wet clothes drying everywhere. It smelled like a combination of mildew and body odor, but the room itself was actually pretty nice.
I sat down on the bed—which was a lot harder than I expected. Still dripping wet, I laid down and smiled.

I made it! I thought. I totally did it!

 

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