I took the night train to Xi’An, a city over 1000 kilometers southwest of Beijing. Almost 27 hours the night train was on the way, if I remember correctly, and what I remember as if it were yesterday: my fellow passengers. Lovely in their own way, some would say special. The train was packed with Chinese going back to the countryside to visit family and friends as the Chinese New Year was right before I arrived to Beijing and everyone was still on vacation. Three beds were stacked on top of each other and I sure wasn’t happy about the lowest one. As I put my backpack under my bed I saw people staring at me. A foreigner? Alone? On this cheap train? Eyes were getting bigger and bigger. Not all of them dared to ask me anything, I suppose that some of them didn’t speak English, but the ones who did kept the other travelers informed, about where I was going and why. Uncertain, about the facial expressions, I could only interpret for a few, what they now think of me and with these actually only question marks and no understanding for my intention. I think in the train compartment was only one other foreigner. But, what was certain was the system behind the seating on the train. The wives and children sometimes shared a bed while the husbands sat in the opposite, single-row seats by the window. Chewing loudly on sunflower seeds and spitting the seed shells in another bag. I put in my earplugs and started reading. People from all over the compartment came to look at me. Just keep on reading, I thought. After falling asleep, in the middle of the night I woke up to someone carefully taking my book from my bed. I looked into large, interested eyes studying the book. She was flipping from page to page, trying to find a word she knew. I suppose, she was my mother’s age.
In Xi’an, I stayed with a girl named Coco via Couchsurfing. She lived with her family in a fenced area with security checks at the entrance and cameras all over the property. About a handful of tall apartment buildings were part of it. Each of them had up to 20 floors. It was truly a “small” village in the massive metropolis of Xi’an. Its own supermarket, hairdresser and pharmacy were inside one of the buildings downstairs. Like a village center. Likewise, a small little pond was built between the buildings, with a little bridge, water lilies, and a tiny pavilion leading out onto a little pier. Coco’s window faced the small lake. The family lived on the 13th floor, so you couldn’t see the water without standing right by the window. For this, the window was even bigger. The entire width of the room was covered with glass and the window was curved outward. Surreal. Completely surreal it seemed to me. I remember that the curtains were heavily covering the whole window wall from top to bottom and one morning we opened both sides at the same time and it was as if the snowflakes were falling right into my face.
In the evenings we would meet up with her girlfriends, walk around the city and I remember ending up in the biggest shopping mall I have ever imagined, and guess what: of course we would get our nails done. In a perfecty girly baby blue with small details like shiny stones on them. Another night, we went to this fancy restaurant, in one of the trendiest streets in Xi’an. We were served fried chicken on ice cubes with sweet and sour sauce and the fanciest cocktails. I loved my time in Xi’an, it was so calming after these busy days in Beijing. Staying with a family that felt so much homier than a hostel felt incredibly good. And in Coco I found a friend, sister and city guide for a few days at the same time.
