Chinese Road Trip, Part 3
Granted, my summer adventure may not be as exciting - or as dangerous - as Torgeir’s drift voyage on a disintegrating balsawood raft but it was quite a heady experience for me, a newly arrived foreign teacher on his summer holiday. Plus, it was hugely influential in forming my expat mindset, the nominal reason for this weekly dose of drivel and high-functioning, forced alliteration you are reading.
Someday, I hope to have the pleasure of announcing the release of Torgeir’s book, Kon-Tiki2 about his 2016 expedition in the South Pacific. And I know that TEL community member Anton is working - under very challenging circumstances - on his book which I hope will also be published soon. Finally, Kai is struggling with his conscience as he festers on a beach in some warm and sunny undisclosed location while thinking about his next novel. Are there other TEL members who want to announce something they are working on? (Or admit to something they are not working on?) Discussions, support, and perhaps even advanced readers/reviewers might result. This is exactly the type of community I envisioned when I started this Substack account… misfits, bad fits, unfits, poor fits, loose fits, and English teachers. (Did I leave anyone out?)
Also, I heard from Tony L. this week. Tony was an Australian foreign teacher in that bygone era when I was scaling mountains. Nearly twenty years later, he is still upright. Older, with a bad back, and a still-acerbic tongue, Tony has a number of articles published in professional journals. He hasn’t really changed… except he is a grandfather now. Tony was a TEL member prototype before there was a TEL.
Now, let’s return to my mountain climbing trip from long, long ago…
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Chinese Road Trip, Part 3
Jimmy’s hastily revised plan was to walk back down the mountain and find a hotel in Dengfeng for the night since, obviously, it would be too late to catch a bus to Zhengzhou. Still, some dinner, a clean room, and a chance to relax and enjoy my beer was all I asked at the moment. Never too cool even when I purchased them, the two bottles of beer in my backpack were now rapidly warming in the August evening temperatures. But that was not a significant problem. I just wanted to get down the mountain, find some food, get to a hotel, and go horizontal. It was a very inviting vision; it kept me going.
In the growing dusk and carefully grasping the handrails, we retraced our steps. Of course, now I had gravity to help me but going down steps can sometimes be more dangerous than climbing up. I reminded myself to concentrate on walking upright and carefully on the long descent. On this mountainside, a stumble or fall in the dark could be disastrous. Besides, we were all tired by now. Still, as we got into the rhythm, our spirits lifted. This was not a major problem I told myself, only a slight hitch in our plans. It didn’t matter. As we descended in the growing dusk, the evening coolness and a slight breeze made us more comfortable.
Continuing downward, there soon occurred a memorable incident which made my own plight seem far less distressing. As we were going down the zigzag stairway which was frequently shaded by overhanging trees, it was often impossible to see very far ahead or behind. Since leaving the top of the mountain, we had been almost alone. Now, approaching us from below, we heard slow, labored breathing sounds that seemed abnormally loud in the evening stillness. Soon, the source of the noise came into sight.
As they appeared, I saw that it was a group of about a dozen workmen who were delivering supplies to the construction site on top of the mountain. They were very slowly making their way up the same steps we were descending. We stood to the side and watched as they passed. Wearing only shorts and canvas shoes, each of them was carrying bags of cement or other construction materials. These were suspended from both ends of a wooden pole balanced over the workman’s shoulder. I estimated each laborer, every one of whom was smaller than me, was carrying 50 to 80 pounds up the same mountainside I had so recently struggled up while carrying only my padded backpack.
As we stepped aside and watched, I saw that each step was a distinct effort for them, including a noticeable pause before the next step. As aerobic exercises go, this was at the very top of the scale. They wasted no energy in talking. Every breath was slow and resonant; this breathing sound was what had first attracted my attention. I thought to myself, “This is their job. They climb 1440 meters up this mountain - with a heavy load – and they do this every day.” I felt humbled. As they continued upward, our group silently resumed our descent. I had no more complaints about our own minor misfortunes. My backpack now seemed feather-light.
Near the bottom, the gradient became more gentle. We finally left the steps and began to walk on a paved road leading to Dengfeng. We soon encountered a family who were, we quickly learned, locals. They were not climbing Song Shan; they were merely out for an evening stroll on the paved roads of the lower slopes. Obviously curious about the foreigner, they began to talk with Jimmy and the two girls, then turned around to walk back down with us. Yes, they would be happy to help us find overnight accommodations in Dengfeng. They would even give us a ride in their car which they had left in a parking lot at the bottom of the hill.
What a relief; we were saved.
I was delighted with this new development. After going up and down Song Shan in one long afternoon, my feet were sore and protesting and my legs were burning. By now, it was fully dark and I was getting very, very weary. I had been looking forward to simply finding a hotel - hopefully, very soon. Now, I told myself that I could surely hold out for five more kilometers, the estimated distance to their parked car, especially since most of it was on a paved, downhill slope.
As we continued to walk slowly down the road with our new friends, they asked innumerable questions which Jimmy translated for me, then translated my responses to the curious family. We walked and walked and walked into the night, always going downhill in the darkness. Chattering and walking on both sides of me, the family certainly didn’t seem to be in any hurry. I began to wonder how long it would be before we finally reached their car.
Our enlarged group finally reached the bottom. Now, in the pleasant summer evening, we began to see more and more people. As the slope leveled out, our new friends insisted that we stop for dinner at one of the outdoor restaurants we were passing. By now, it was obvious that they were proud of their foreigner. As we had descended and, now at the restaurant, they excitedly spoke with others and loudly let everyone know that their group included an American friend. I was only interested in getting to a hotel but this was obviously a social coup for them. Entering the outdoor restaurant, we sat at a center table they selected - obviously for maximum exposure. I ate and smiled at everyone… but I certainly wished they would hurry a bit. Still, since we were getting a free ride, I couldn’t be too upset if they didn’t share my sense of urgency. I was straining my “It doesn’t matter” capacity but they clearly were in no hurry to finish eating and end this splendid evening.
Finally, well after 9:00, they concluded their leisurely evening repast. By now, I was ready to begin pulling out my hair in sheer frustration. In all this time, we could have walked to Dengfeng and found our own lodgings and I could already be asleep. Only at this point did the father take action. When it was unmistakable that I was growing impatient, father casually reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Jimmy told me that he was giving directions for a friend to meet us at the restaurant, get father’s car keys, walk to the as yet unseen parking lot, locate the car, and then drive their car to the restaurant to meet us. Smiling, father turned back to us, content to resume the interesting entertainment, having guaranteed himself a captive foreigner for a little longer.
As everything continued to proceed at a snail’s pace, I had no choice but to wait for father’s friend to reach the restaurant. Then, upon arriving, the newest friend had to be introduced to us. Of course, the newest friend also had to be provided with full details of my history and our adventures on Song Shan, plus I had to answer a few additional questions. Only then did he get the car keys from father and depart into the darkness. He was on the way to the parking lot to locate their car and drive it back to the restaurant. All this could have been done while we were eating but they were having too much fun to cut the evening short.
Finally, another half-hour later, the friend did arrive with their car – it turned out to be a small van – and we tiredly piled in. The family was still beaming and bubbling with enthusiasm. During the course of the meal, they had extracted a promise from Jimmy to meet again in the morning. They were going to show us other local attractions then take us to the bus station to begin the return trip to Zhengzhou. At this point, all I was concerned with was getting some sleep so I accepted the change of plans as graciously as possible.
Then, finally, everything went smoothly. Perhaps our trip jinx had already retired for the night. He may have been worn out after the long afternoon climb and descent. At any rate, in a matter of minutes, we were deposited at a local hotel that probably rated two stars at most. Still, the room Jimmy and I now occupied offered shelter and security, a quiet refuge, and, best of all, two clean single beds. Under normal circumstances, I would have deemed it as barely adequate but, tonight, it looked like a blissful haven.
Before we fell asleep in our tiny, non-air conditioned room, Jimmy and I finally got to enjoy those two bottles of beer I had carried all the way from the top of Song Shan. The beer was warm, the room was warm, and there was no shower but those victory beers tasted wonderful. We had certainly earned them.
My friends were right; it didn’t matter. Despite all the delays and unplanned events of the day, and despite the antics of our trip jinx, we had achieved our goal of climbing Song Shan.
Two minutes later, I was sound asleep and nothing mattered.
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Stay tuned, TEL readers, for next week’s installment: A new day, a new mountain, a new challenge!
Once again, I will insert the link to my Buy Me A Coffee page. Your support, large or small, is greatly appreciated.