January 18th: miles like smoke

Day 124

Woke to Paco and Esteban stepping on my bed to get down. Despite the presence of two sets of footrests, they seemed completely incapable of using them. Mike and I discussed upper kutting them in the scrotum next time they did it.

Miles like smoke streamed past the windows: a patchwork of terraces, shanty towns, small plots of cabbages in between dirt hills strewn with garbage, muddy staircases disappearing into deeper woods, tantalizing places to explore slipping away the same moment they came into view.

The day was spent conversing with Jin Nan and the Koreans. Jin Nan trabslated for Auntie and Dr. Thumbwars, a man who, because of his profession, needed 5 aliases. I christened him the sixth from an inside joke we had. Apparently, if you hold up your thumbs and move them like you're playing Tetris, that's a way of asking if sexual realtions are occuring. He inquired, via this thumb-business, if Heather and I were "that way." I joked back, "Yeah,we play Nintendo together, sure." He didn't understand what I said, but communication is 90% nonverbal anyway. The inside joke progressed where he had his thumbs far apart but would look toward one, wiggle it, look to the other one, wiggle that, and raise his eyebrows inquisitively. THen he moved his eyeglass arms like proxy thumbs, and eventually all he had to do was hold up his eyeglass case. Clever guy.

Auntie told us, through Jin Nan's translation that Mike and I were "childish" because we were "always playing with each other." We explained the positive term is "child-like" or "young at heart" and that "childish had bad connotation. She also said "Because of you,the train is full of fun." I taught Jin Nan "Yellow Submarine," and "Hokey Pokey," and a monologue from "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Her mind was a hungry sponge. She wore me out with all the practicing and questions.

Foodwise we struck out. In the morning, Mike and I got hoodwinked by a trainside vendor with baozi (steamed breakfast rolls). They were far too expensive and "not delicious." We placed the uneaten (most) ones below and when Auntie and Jin Nan awoke, we told them we had bought them for them. Later on in the dining car, we played cards and had some underwhelming Kung Pao chicken. Reeb and snacks kept us going. At one point I needed some downtime and retired to my bunk to write and listen to Unkle. There were only so many times I could do the inside joke with Dr. Thumbwars.

Night fell, the lights went out, we packed and got ready to leave. A couple stops before Guiyang, we took pictures with everyone, including Foster, a tiny boy with a green sweater emblazoned with "Foster," who repeatedly came by to show us an Ultraman magazine and almost single-handedly decimated our supply of Pocky. He and his family got off in Guiyang too, and he came up to us, shook each of our hands in turn, then blew us kisses and scurried back to his parents, slipped out of sight, free to grow up everywhere but our memory.

We were impressed with how enjoyable and easy the trek had been. Once out of the train station, a lady bade us to follow her to her 10 kuai a night lodgings. We marched through rain-spattered streets into darker hillier areas, at last arrived. There were four beds, all harda as a rock, lined up "seven dwarf submarine" style, no bathroom, no heat. We were tired and the price was crazy-cheap, so we bundled up, shut our eyes and waited to be greeted by Guiyang daylight.