the Saga of returning (i)

In Febuary 2006, right after the Spring Festival, I spent a cold night at Hankou train station trying to secure a ticket to Guangzhou. I confess that it was an ill timed return. To arrive in Guangzhou in time for my connecting flight back home to Sydney, I had to mill around with thousands of migrant workers who were heading south to their Zhujia Delta factories. And many, like I, did not have a ticket either because it was impossible to book across the rail networks or because tickets were "sold out" (and I do not exaggerate) to well-connected scalpers.

I had never been among migrant workers myself, let alone competing with them for a train ticket. The sheer number of migrant workers in transit here was overwhelming, most of them waiting subduedly in the drizzle (luckily twas only a drizzle)on the rail square because the waiting room was packed or they did not want to waste 20yuan in a private "rest station". There was a group of us who newly got off the train and wore that sexy at-a-loss look of a prey, which must've seemed so attractive to the scalpers/ticket agents that within minutes we were led by a complete stranger to a side exit of the station where an alleged ticket transaction would take place. We waited for some time and a ticket to Guangzhou was so hot that even a scalper had nothing in store for me. My hope of heading south tonight waned. By now I had already regretted wearing a long black woolen trench-coat which was already wet and heavy thanks to the rain. And the other disastrous fashion choice was to sport a Pierre Cardin luggage of a stylish non-water resistant canvas material, perfect for the weather! Soaked and frozen, I started to pick my way out unto the main road when a young man appeared.

"Hey, it's almost midnight. You haven't got a ticket?" To that I responded with silence. He walked alongside me.

"Look, I'm an off-duty mechanic and just came back from my shift." He pointed to the station. "My big bro works in the ticket office. He can help you." He couldn't mean his blood relative. This must've been a coworker of his as it was common to refer to a friendly superior at work as a big bro/sis. Or it could be an Aniki of a gang, I thought. He was alone and looked sincere.

"It's ok that you don't believe me now. You'll believe me if I show you the ticket right?" He sensed my hesitation. "Just tell me where you are going."

"Guangzhou, as soon as possible, one berth" I said, starting to show some interest. He immediately made a phone call. "Yes, ok, yes, one berth.Yea? You have it? ok." He put down his phone. "I can get you a ticket but it's for tomorrow. I can find your a cheap and nice place to stay first and my big bro will come to see you with the ticket."

"Whereabout?" I asked, only out of curiosity. "It's in a village not far from the station. You know the area where those peasants built three storey buildings and lived on the rent? It's pretty secure. There's a family hostel run by a kind aunty whom I know well. I always bring her guests." He was in a rush to convince me.

Despite the context, surprisingly the offer didn't sound so dodgy. I actually overheard a young couple in the group talking about affordable accommodations in a village nearby when I was waiting for the ticket just now. They said that they stayed there before and it was reasonably clean.And I suspected that it was the same place that this guy was talking about right now. In fact, I was quite ready to believe that a lot of people in my situation might find the offer appealing. But of course, I was never going to go with a stranger this late into the night. So I hailed a taxi. He was visibly upset and wanted to tag along.

"No, you dont have to come. I'm finding my own place. I'll contact you tomorrow." I said. "Oh, we can get this cab to drive you to the place and you decide." He was irritated, probably over the time he wasted on me, and wanted to force his way into the cab. "You heard the Miss. Leave her alone." The driver cut into our conversation and I was thankful for that. The guy was now furious, swearing at the driver and put one hand onto the wheel. My heart froze at this drama. The driver just calmly brushed his hand aside and started the engine.

"Please take me to a good, reputable hotel as close to the station as possible." As soon as we were on the road, I relaxed. For the first time in a whole hour of what seemed to be an eternity, I was in a dry, warm and well-lit place, with a view for a hot shower and a good night's sleep ahead.

"It's dangerous to wander around this area at night for a young girl like you. You never know if he was a bad guy or just a crazy scalper." the driver said.

"I know." I said briefly, thinking about the people that colonized the rail square tonight, many of whom were easily younger than me. They didn't have the luxury to choose where to stay, or even worse, to buy tickets from a scalper.

[to be continued]