Give Me Money!!! a short story from China.

Give Me Money!!! A short story from China.

After a prolonged period of stability, I finally bid Belgium farewell in the summer of 2009. Uninspired by life in grey, uneventful Brussels, I headed off to China for an unforgettable year of teaching and traveling.

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Battling through the rush hour melee at Beijing Railway Station wasn’t much fun. Eventually, having bounced off the shoulders of a hundred and one careless commuters, we reached the promised land of Waiting Room Number 2. Inside, we found an air-conditioned hall the size of a small European country. Settling down in one of the endless rows of metal benches, we gazed up at the giant information board. An incomprehensible parade of fluorescent Chinese characters.

Which one was our train?

Was it leaving on time?

Should we present ourselves to someone?  

They were calling departures every five minutes or so. Which, it seemed, was the signal for a furious, uncivilised rush towards the exit gate. This was pretty rough on the gate’s lone, dopey-looking security guard in oversized trousers. In fact, the poor guy had no chance of checking all the tickets before the human wall literally smashed right through him.

Watching the bodies pour forward, I scanned a pair of businessmen barking into their phones. Behind them, a massive family overloaded with shopping bags and suitcases. Then, a group of rubber-skinned labourers, half a dozen massive wooden crates set before them on metal trolleys. Docile and expressionless, wherever it was they were headed, they didn’t seem very excited about it.

Photo courtesy of N509FZ.

Consulting the guard, we learned that our train to Tianjin was next up. Sure enough, we soon found ourselves riding a wave of eager passengers, invisible hands pushing into my back. Clambering aboard our train, S found our seats with ease. The carriage was modern and temperature-controlled. Moreover, our chairs were comfortable and we had ample table space. All in all, my expectations had been exceeded! 

Give Me Money!!! A short story from China.

A Chinese school group quickly surrounded us as the train pulled away. I got chatting to the teacher, a smiley guy who looked a bit like a teenager with his boyish looks and bird’s nest hairdo. While his English was minimal, he managed to explain that they were all on their way home to the city of Chengdu. “38 hours!” he moaned, scribbling the number down on his newspaper. 

Our own ride was an uncomplicated two hours, which flew by in the snap of a finger. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to teacher-boy. When we pulled into Tianjin he was fast asleep. His backpack clutched into his chest like a pillow, the newspaper pressed up against his cheek.

I had a less than enthusiastic feeling about Tianjin City Youth Hostel the moment it came into view. It was an eyesore of a building, dumped onto the side of a highway like a messy afterthought. “Welcome you”, said the man behind reception, in a tone that couldn’t have been less welcoming.

Exploring the lobby while S checked us in, I immediately noticed how horribly neglected the place was. There was a broken chair and dusty floorboards in the common room. In the sad looking kitchen, I spied an overflowing rubbish bin that should have been emptied days ago. Heading up the stairs to our room, a peeling sign on one of the archways informed us that we were staying in ‘‘The first hostel in Tianjin since 1974”. Sadly, it felt like we were still in 1974.

Give Me Money!!! a short story from China.

The room itself actually turned out ok. The dictionary definition of basic, but cleaner than I’d expected. Nevertheless, we didn’t want to waste any time in the hostel. Back at reception, I asked Jackie Charm how far the nearest restaurant was. He answered with a surly “far”. So we decided to just head out blind, exiting the gloom of 1974 into the afternoon sunshine of 2009.

Twenty minutes later we came upon a little restaurant. It didn’t look very inviting but lord we were so hungry. It was a hole-in-the-wall type joint, with plastic orange tables and a mountain of green beer boxes stacked up against the far wall. The place was largely empty, just three old men sat beneath a huge portrait of Chairman Mao. The only decorative touch to the entire restaurant.

One of the men was the owner. He was a middle-aged man in a white vest who looked absolutely astonished when we walked in. Rising slowly with a cocked eyebrow, a sideway glance to his smirking friends, he shuffled over and presumably asked us what we wanted. With no physical menu and limited linguistic skills from both sides, it was a miracle we managed to order. 

He then disappeared into the kitchen while his friends smoked silently and stared at us. Barely five minutes later the boss man returned with two piping hot bowls of tomato, egg and rice. It was delicious, a stir-fried concoction rich in ginger, soy sauce and black pepper. Known as fanqié chao dàn, among other names, we destroyed it in a matter of minutes.

Give Me Money!!! a short story from China.

It was another kilometre before we arrived in downtown Tianjin, a compact commercial district built around The Hai River. It was here that we came across a holidaying Chinese family. They were SO excited to meet us. Thus the mother insisted I pose with them all for a photograph.

At her request, S captured the moment with their beast of a camera. “London very cool city, my dream!” exclaimed the father, thumbs aloft, his wife and daughter giggling in unison. “Welcome to China!”

Delving into my guidebook, I learned that Tianjin dates back to 1404 and became a major treaty port in the 1860s. Forever in the shadow of its big brother Beijing, the city later fell into depression. This was compounded by the devastating Tangshan Earthquake of 1976, the second deadliest quake in modern history.

Happily, Tianjin was now in the midst of a huge, multi million yuan rejuvenation project. Sitting on a bench down at the riverfront, I could see cranes, diggers, mud pits and buildings under construction as far as the eye could see. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it did have the feel of a city that was going places.

Photo courtesy of Yaohua2k7.

Our somewhat aimless wanderings took us into Tianjin’s old town, where we walked through a number of European flavoured neighbourhoods. It was an interesting district, a handsome, albeit jumbled juxtaposition of Gothic and Renaissance buildings alongside traditional Qing structures. There were very few actual sights, though we were impressed by the towering form of St. Joseph Cathedral.

Adventures in China.

Photo courtesy of Sevgonlernassau.

It was late afternoon by the time we arrived at Guwenhua Jie (Ancient Culture Street), with its craft shops, food stalls and upmarket lantern boutiques. There was also a sizeable temple, while the buildings were all Qing replicas, with bricked facades and ornate, painted windows. The street had been built as recently as 1986 with the purpose of creating a Chinese Folk Heritage Centre. 

I’d been enjoying our stroll very much, taking in the aromas of a large teahouse and watching bicycles clatter past in both directions. Suddenly, I saw a young man striding towards us, noisily clearing his throat as he came.

Before I knew what was happening, he’d violently deposited a large glob of phlegm on the pavement, just inches from my feet. It had happened in an instant and now he was already far away, no looking back. “Did that just happen!?” asked S, stepping around the pool of offending filth. “Yes” I replied, my growing appetite temporarily derailed, “yes it did”.

The following morning we awoke early to the sound of roaring traffic beyond our paper-thin walls. Good old Tianjin City Youth Hostel! With no suitable breakfast options around, we headed straight to the train station for what I knew would be an unpleasant task.

It was Noodles back in Beijing who’d advised me to always book tickets for our next destination well in advance. Remembering his advice, I figured twenty four hours should be enough time to secure two good seats on a morning train to the city of Jinan. 

Give Me Money!!! a short story from China.

Photo courtesy of David Dong.

It was total bedlam in the station, with scores of people rushing around. And not a word of English to help us on our quest. With absolutely no idea which line to join, we simply picked the shortest queue and crossed our fingers.

At the counter I handed the clerk a prepared note with all the details of our trip. However, to my surprise and general dismay, he merely skimmed over it, shook his head defiantly and flicked the paper back at me. “Méiyou!” he shrieked, folding his arms.

“Um… Jinan?!” I repeated hopelessly, while S backed me up with a supportive “Míngtian” (tomorrow). But ticket man was not playing ball. “Méiyou!” he repeated, again and again, his lips achieving a whole new level of pursed with each utterance.

It was only later that I discovered the meaning of Méiyou, a firm and direct “don’t have”. We didn’t know what to do. The man had a weariness about him that suggested he’d dealt with the likes of us a thousand times and was finally at breaking point. We were about to give up when, quite suddenly, a guardian angel swooped in to save the day. A tall, graceful Chinese woman in a flowing white dress.

“Excuse me, may I assist you?” 

Having told her what we wanted, she wasted no time in relaying the info to Captain Inflexible. For a solid two or three minutes they yipped away at each other like excitable puppies. And then it was over, two tickets rattling out of the printer, the lady personally handing them to me with a placid smile.

It was exactly what I’d originally asked for! A train to Jinan, second class, leaving the following morning. Where had it all gone wrong? “Thank you so much!” I cooed. Moving away from the queue, I realised there were about thirty people staring at us. “Uh, let’s go” I whispered.  

With the clock ticking down on our brief Tianjin adventure, we set about crossing off more sights. There was an hour lazing around Zhonxing Park, where a collection of old ladies performed elaborate stretching exercises. Elsewhere, a group of gossiping mothers kept half an eye on their children as they frolicked together around a large fountain.

Quite accidentally, we also stumbled upon the fascinating Porcelain House, a contemporary centre for pottery and antiques. Originally an old colonial building, an eccentric artist by the name of Zhang Lianzhi remodelled the entire structure using broken porcelain parts.

Give Me Money!!! a short story from China.

Lunch came at Goubuli Restaurant, a renowned Tianjin eatery dating back to 1858. Leafing through their extensive menu, I was horrified by such tantalising dishes as Preserved Duck Tongue, Stirred Jellyfish Head and Chinese Caterpillar Fungus. There was also a dark green vegetable plate listed as Rape. Mm. 

In any case we were only interested in one thing, a round of the house speciality, Baozi. The steamed buns that arrived a short time later came served individually in beautifully presented wooden containers. Some were filled with pork, others with beef. All of them doused in spices and a dark, dense gravy. They were divine. 

That evening, there were more culinary delights on Nanshi Food Street (Shipin Jie), an indoor arcade packed with restaurants. With no idea what might be good, we picked one that had some loose English translations on the menu and headed in with crossed fingers and toes. 

Our waitress was a right character. “HELLO!” she screamed manically, arriving to take our order. We opted for a large plate of spicy Kung Pao Chicken to share. “OK!!!!!!” she bellowed, marching off to fetch our drinks. We had just started work on the Kung Pao Chicken when she stomped back over, squatted down between us and roared an ear shattering…. 

“GIVE ME MONEY!!!” 

… right into my disbelieving face. Never before or since has anyone asked me for the bill quite like this. Scrambling for my wallet, I paid her and made a silent prayer that she would now let us finish our dinner in peace.

Walking back to the hostel that night, I reflected on what a great time we’d had in a city where there wasn’t actually that much to see. Not that I needed to be wowed by grand attractions or historical sights. Rather, I found myself on an organic high that came from simply being in China.

Everything was new, from the sights, sounds and smells, to the intriguing cuisine and the fascinating, often confusing people. For the first time in my life I felt like an actual alien, an altogether different species from those whose land I walked. As a result, I felt even more excited and curious about the adventures that lay ahead. On our second train journey… in the city of Jinan… and beyond…

‘Give Me Money!!!’ is the second instalment of my short story series Challenged in China.

I’ve also written travel reports from all across China.

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