seedy journeys.docVIP

seedy journeysSardines don’t know how lucky they are. Put out of their misery before being crammed into those tin cans. Not so lucky we travelers， paying for the privilege of being stuffed into overcrowded train cars， tail to tail， gill to gill.It seemed like a good idea at the time， I recall. Chinese trains can be so cheap if you book the infamous “Hard Seats.” How “hard” can they be， we intrepid adventurers quip.We hadn’t counted on the beginning of the Chinese New Year crush， when families returning to their home towns for the annual cavalcade of mandatory feasting and fireworks.Our train， therefore， was fit to burst its rivets， crammed with people， baggage and noise. Oh， the noise！ Not the chattering or the groaning of the train but the relentless crack， crack， crack of teeth chewing on sunflower seeds！ The guy beside us had been gnawing at his stash of these dry， woodchip-flavored time-fillers for over two hours， methodically dipping into a bottomless bag， nibbling loudly and spitting out the shells at my feet. Not only was his appetite for seeds seemingly insatiable， he also wouldn’t stop staring directly at me. I wondered what he expected me to do ?C his gaze was meticulously purged of interest， curiosity or animosity ?C it simply had the vacant constance of a bored security guard who was paid to watch a video feed of an empty furniture warehouse.Maybe my unexpected traveling companion had never seen a foreigner before. Perhaps he expected me to do something spectacular like the expats you see on TV ?C launch into song， or a break-dancing routine. If it’d have stopped the staring， I might have obliged had the carriage been more spacious and less overcrowded. But as things stood， I remained squeezed between my other companions on a lightly-padded bench， waiting out the clock.Oh， for a “Soft Sleeper.” China’s supposedly classless society ends where its train cars begin?C soft sleepers are， or at least were， in the days before wall-to-wall high-speed rail， the d