Crossing the river
Nov. 8th, 2008 03:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
khiemtranMany years ago, I happened to be in the city of Wuhan. This is a city that few people who haven't been to China have ever heard of, yet it has a population of over six million and a place in top forty biggest cities in the world.
I had come there on a train from Guangzhou and I planned to catch a ferry from there down the Yangzi to Shanghai (most people who came to Wuhan then wanted to catch a boat the other way, up to the Leaping Tiger Gorge).
On arrival, I found a hotel easily enough and a place to book ferry tickets ("second class", being the best available in those days in communist China, I think they may have reinstated "first class" by now). The night I ate some of the famous "Wuchang fish" more famous for being praised by Chairman Mao than for its actual taste), in a local restaurant filled with new recruits for the People's Army.
The next day I did some sightseeing, including the Yellow Crane Pagoda, and then set off to find my way to the boat to Shanghai.
Now, Wuhan is actually a conglomeration of three separate cities, Wuchang, Hankou and Hanyang, and the meeting point of the Yanzi and Han rivers. My boat, left from the other side of the river, and to get to it I had to work out how to get across on a local ferry. As a approached the ferry building, I realized just how hard my task would be. There was the usual crowd of people all trying to get tickets for different places, and the crush that normally substituted for a queue in China in those days, and not a word of English in sight or earshot.
Watching the scene outside the ticket office was the worst point of doubt in that entire trip. I stopped and wondered if I would actually be able to do it. Would my rudimentary Mandarin be up to the task? What would happen if I bought the wrong ticket, or if the boat I boarded took me to the wrong place? But at that point, there was simply no turning back. My boat to Shanghai was on the other side of the river. Only those who could cope with China on their own could get across. I had no choice but to cope.
My journey across the Yangzi was one of the most nerve-wracking of the entire trip, but I did indeed buy the right ticket and make it across to the right place. From that moment on, I knew I could cope with whatever else happened.
I had come there on a train from Guangzhou and I planned to catch a ferry from there down the Yangzi to Shanghai (most people who came to Wuhan then wanted to catch a boat the other way, up to the Leaping Tiger Gorge).
On arrival, I found a hotel easily enough and a place to book ferry tickets ("second class", being the best available in those days in communist China, I think they may have reinstated "first class" by now). The night I ate some of the famous "Wuchang fish" more famous for being praised by Chairman Mao than for its actual taste), in a local restaurant filled with new recruits for the People's Army.
The next day I did some sightseeing, including the Yellow Crane Pagoda, and then set off to find my way to the boat to Shanghai.
Now, Wuhan is actually a conglomeration of three separate cities, Wuchang, Hankou and Hanyang, and the meeting point of the Yanzi and Han rivers. My boat, left from the other side of the river, and to get to it I had to work out how to get across on a local ferry. As a approached the ferry building, I realized just how hard my task would be. There was the usual crowd of people all trying to get tickets for different places, and the crush that normally substituted for a queue in China in those days, and not a word of English in sight or earshot.
Watching the scene outside the ticket office was the worst point of doubt in that entire trip. I stopped and wondered if I would actually be able to do it. Would my rudimentary Mandarin be up to the task? What would happen if I bought the wrong ticket, or if the boat I boarded took me to the wrong place? But at that point, there was simply no turning back. My boat to Shanghai was on the other side of the river. Only those who could cope with China on their own could get across. I had no choice but to cope.
My journey across the Yangzi was one of the most nerve-wracking of the entire trip, but I did indeed buy the right ticket and make it across to the right place. From that moment on, I knew I could cope with whatever else happened.
