Tom: Enroute to Harbin (May 22)

Enroute to Harbin (May 22) · May 28, 01:18 AM

I was the last houseguest up; my sleeping box has no windows. Another fellow took me to breakfast — we had dinner-style dishes and beer, but finished with a more breakfast-like dark, sweetened rice porridge. I was a little buzzed when we left. Back at the guesthouse he tried to tell me about his work. Possibly it involves a large family goat farm. Possibly he sells cast bits for machining tools; it’s not clear. I left to figure out when I need to leave the mainland to satisfy my visa. After a couple fruitless phone calls and an equally fruitless hour online, I took a local bus to the local monolithic PSB building. The confirmed a date (the 27th), one day earlier than I hoped for, and now I don’t think I can take T97 from Beijing to Hong Kong Hung [edit: in retrospect, I think I could have.. next time, I may]. They also filled out a mysterious residence permit which I never saw. I think I was supposed to have one.

Then I had lunch, took a nap, and walked to the train station.

I had lunch across the street from my sleeping box at the same place I had breakfast, at the same place I had dinner yesterday. After stuffing myself with potatoes and rice I was mulling over my options when the owner invited me to sit down with his group. It was time for a second lunch and, apparently, heavy drinking. The poured baijiu out of an enormous glass jar containing various pickled things including, somewhat recognizably, cow parts and ginseng. Drinking, talking, picking at mountains of food, and obligatory toasting ensued. The party eventually dissolved and we left. The third glass of the baijiu and the beer that washed it down were getting to my head; I was dunk. Not black-out and forget-what-happens drunk, but a far bit beyond buzzed. The owner walked home with me and I passed out for three hours to wake up in the late afternoon in that unpleasant space between tispy and hungover — the worst of both worlds.

Just outside town, atop a small hill, there’s a monolith silhouetted against the sky. It’s a twenty minute walk according to the locals, which I wanted to make. But I also wanted to not move, or eat, or do anything except make time pass quickly.

Eventually I took my ticket from the lady of the house who purchased it for me. She kept the change (23 CNY) — it was an uphill battle not to pay here more on top of that for that evening. And I queasily walked off to the train station. By the station I found a wang ba for email. Waiting for the train I was force-fed dumplings by one of the fellows from lunch. A crowd had gathered to come see the laowai waiting for his train. On the train I had a hard sleeper bunk and was happy to fall asleep.

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http://tom.spacing-guild.net/2006/05/28/harbin-may-23

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