Night Train to Hangzhou

On the train from Ningbo to Hangzhou about 80% of the passengers were male. Most of them wore an expression of desperation on their faces. The youngest ones reminded me of abused animals, constantly alert to their surroundings and trying hard to avoid anyone’s attention. These were migrant workers or wannabe migrant workers returning to Anhui Province from job-hunting in the coastal cities of Zhejiang Province. I imagine that many of them had been laid-off as many of China’s export-fuelled factories closed in recent months. I felt sorry for them. I could feel their desperation and hopelessness. This is what most of China is still like. Those of us who live in prosperous Shanghai or Beijing often forget this.

I was traveling “hard seat” on this 2.5 hour, 29 yuan ride from the port city of Ningbo to the old Southern Song capital of Hangzhou. The train was crowded and uncomfortable and made many stops. After Hangzhou it was headed on to Hefei, the capital of poor Anhui Province and the source of most of Shanghai’s millions of migrant workers. Many of the cars were given over to dormitory-style bunk beds for those that could afford them for the long trip to Hefei.

A rough-looking woman in a uniform rolled a cart down the aisle selling instant noodles for 6 yuan (about US 90 cents). When the noodle customers tried to fill their instant noodle bowl with hot water from the hot water boiler they found that it didn’t work. When they complained the noodle seller brushed them off with a brusque “it’s not my responsibility”. An attractive woman asked the male conductor for hot water and he promptly fetched some for her. A male migrant behind her asked the conductor for the same thing and was refused. He just accepted the treatment without protest. I suppose he’s used to this sort of thing.

As I write this I’m on a much nicer train going from Hangzhou to Nanjing – a four hour trip at speeds ranging from 150-200 km per hour. This train is modern, with comfortable seats, electric outlets for laptop users, and at 187 yuan, much too expensive for migrants. This train is spacious and filled with college students and middle-class white-collar types. My only problem here is that the elderly couple seated in front of me are burping so much I wonder where they are getting all that gas. They’ve kept at it for the last hour. Maybe they are talking to each other in some strange burp-based dialect. Whatever it is, I don’t like their tone.