Kevin Naughton

Fred and I are going to see the world together!

China is a challenge. If Japan were the immaculate, sleepy village in the south of France, China would be the loudmouthed, gum smacking American tourist terrorizing it’s streets. Arriving directly from Japan, the contrast is absolutely shocking. When on a train in Japan, the Japanese converse using a whisper with so many formalities that it takes three minutes to thank someone for offering up their seat; in Beijing, it seems like everyone has terrets with spit showering outbursts…and that’s just the guy on his cell phone.

With that being said, our transition into China has been tumultuous. Beijing, just like any big city, was rather unforgiving to the visitor and we decided to head out to Pingyao, a rural town to the southwest in a quest to find some country charm in this rapidly developing and harshly industrial country. Pingyao claims home to one of the last remaining walled cities in China and to get there, we had to take a 12-hour overnight train from Beijing. Our journey started when Ben and I arrived late to the Beijing West Train Station due to miscalculating the huge distances between the subway station and the train station in Beijing. The brand new subway line built for the Olympics did not connect to the long distance train station; it was a good half a mile walk. A lot of things in China don’t seem to be logical. After hoofing it through eight busy blocks and wading through a sea of humanity, we arrived at Beijing West Train Station, a sprawling monstrosity teeming with tens of thousands of Chinese, each shouldering enormous grain sacks packed with their belongings. Those too old to keep up were thrown on the back of family members and carried to their platform. It was obvious that these people were not making a casual weekend trip, train tickets are expensive for the average Chinese and these passengers were traveling because they had to. It is said that trains never run late in a dictatorship and these trains were waiting for no one, including us.

We arrived at our train drenched in sweat and out of breath. The car was stuffy and warm; we were hit with the smell of instant noodles, McDonald’s, and old clothing. The moment we appeared in the doorway, every passenger stopped and stared in surprise. Then, in seconds, we were greeted with warm toothless smiles and two men immediately took our huge, funny looking backpacks off our shoulders and began strategerizing on where they were going to fit our bags in the completely full overhead luggage rack. Soon, Ben and I had the assistance of ten passengers all providing their two cents in Chinese on where to make room for us. Everyone pitched in to help move around grain sacks, suitcases, and boxes. We were finally in our seats and we were stared at for the next 12 hours. Non-stop.

walls of pingyao, china

Pingyao is a darling little city. Built during the Ming Dynasty, it was a center for trade and commerce during the 14th century. The banks in this city developed the country’s first banking and checking system to facilitate trade with Mongolia.

As China rapidly developed in the 20th century and trade moved to the eastern seaboard, Pingyao fell into poverty and the classic Chinese architecture and design has remained unchanged for hundreds of years.

What makes this walled city unique is that it is still very much a living, breathing town. Inside the huge stone walls, ancient Ming dynasty streets teem with life. Kids attend school inside gray stoned buildings with crimson red lanterns blowing in the breeze, flour mills fill grain sacks and sell them on the street, banks conduct business behind ornate rice paper doors, and noodle shops sell tantalizing street food under the jade colored eaves of traditional Chinese roofs. Every turn into an alley or side street yields a Buddhist shrine or temple.

entrance to a family home

We stayed in a traditional Chinese home with rooms that surround a central, stone courtyard. We’ve made great friends with our Canadian and German roommates.