Beijing to Moscow part 2

I had an unanticipated month longer to waste until receiving my Russian visa. This was of course fine with me. I had arranged to leave for Inner Mongolia (within China) the night of my last day of employment - by train of course. My Chinese buddy, Liu Guan, invited me to his traditional wedding ceremony for which I played the part of "photographer" for. I also came to take part in the Inner Mongolian-style Spring Festival (Chinese New Year). What can I say? Was it good? Bad? If I had more time I'd give a little lesson on redefining the terms public toilet, leftover dinners, and frugality. I stayed in this little farming village in the sticks for two weeks. While here in this little farming village I never had a legitimate shower. But rather, spit baths, as my mother calls them. This is where you bath yourself from a shallow bucket of water.

I entertained myself by feeding the sheep twice a day, teaching a beautifully young and bubbly girl English, wandering the nothingness of the surrounding barren dust land, and finishing off some books. One day I tested the size of this village. It took me 18 minutes to walk the parameters and not a hill or mountain in sight! The reading? Endless hours of reading. My buddy had grown tired of having to speak English to me. I understood b/c I too was tired of deciphering less than perfect English and trying to understand the Chinese dialect going on around me. At my level you grasp a few words and translate body gestures. After the wedding I knew I had another solitary week of bundling up in the chilly room - somehow very comforting - with my runny nose in these books. The books I brought were appropriate for the amount of concentrated time I had before me: Immanuel Kant, Isaiah (the prophet), Trans Siberian Railway Guide Book and Lin Yu Tang (American-born Chinese author).

There was a Koren Baptist missionary family living in Lanzhou staying at the house as well. Abraham had been led to Christ by this man earlier in University. I had a small room to myself on the other side of the house. He and I became friends early on but later he became sharp with me when he learned we adhered to different points of faith. We had many conversational "debates" which usually ended up into battles of wits about the scripture rather than relevancy to the scripture itself.

The wedding was bizarre!, but very cool. It was just about exactly what I expected of the Nei-Mongu, educationally challenged, Chairman Mao survivors. There was no exchange of vows as traditional God-fearing cultures would do. Instead it was an honor-filled presentation from the family to the towns people. Of course, there was crying. I think just about every soul from the village was there. They and others from surrounding villages may have just come for the food. B/c it was good! I was told that all I'd do while in Inner Mongolia was eat mutton and ride horses. I never saw a single horse and, next to the family leftovers, only ate one hefty serving of mutton at the wedding. There was nothing in this town but sublime patience awaiting the next harvest. Their past time was filled by,,, well,,, we'd call it boredom,,, visiting neighbors, wandering the dusty alleys, and I guess whatever else you find to do with thousands of acres of dust. Of course there's the pengyos (friends) boozing time away until sunrise and then sleeping the remaining portion of the week.

February 12th something amazing happened. What was only the days previous a ghost-like town with ear piercing silence, blossomed to a bliss of chaos! People prepare for weeks for Ancient Cathay's fantastic display of homemade fireworks ranging in size from something the size of a birthday candle to a "Yosemite Sam TNT Dynamite barrel." The day before Liu Guan and I went to town to buy some supplies. And there it was… "Mr. TNT" himself! This is the thing that charred Wylie Coyote and obliterated Donald Duck to only a pair of eyes and a beak. Looking back I wished I had bought the thing. It was huge!; larger than the largest 20 gallon toilet bowl and guaranteed to blow your hand off. I can hear my mother's yelp now. It was cheap too! I think it equated to something like 40USD! It would have been worth it. But, it would have definitely shaken my friend's and his surrounding neighbors' foundations loose. And I'm sure that Pops would have loved it! Pops - the name I called Liu Guan's father - and every other family member were an active part of this parade. Pops amazed me at how he dared to hold some of these explosives as they burst. As I freaked in laughter, he would turn to me in his Adam's Family "Lurch" laugh with a few almost expressionless (yet somehow more wrinkled) chuckles. Ma kept a fearful distance.

As I stood looking out from their mud roof I watched the explosion-lit skies humming the surrounding village and farm land in colors of green and orange; every family's 2-story bonfire all lit in unison; children parading the streets lighting crackers, poppers, rockets, flairs and anything else that goes "bung!"(As the Chinese say it). Off in the horizon I could see the glow of other distant villages that I had previously never been able to see through the foggy dust filled air. They too had their own lights and explosions in synch with ours. The following 3 days were followed by the village children combing the alleys for left over unignited "whatever". About every 3 minutes something went off.

I don't know if this celebration was the height of my Inner Mongolian experience or not. I think it was the 2nd or 3rd night of the New Year celebration that Pops brought in an unexpected gift for me. Every night of the year, Pops goes out to see if there are any surprises from the sheep. Usually he knows when there is an incoming lamb, but not this time. The thing was blotched over in Grey Poupon placenta fluid. It laid there on the brick floor doing a fish dance for maybe 2 minutes. What it had really been trying to do was get to it's feet. I was expressionless. This lamb was not more than 15 minutes born and it's survival instincts had already brought it to a wobbling standing position. Pops held this slippery, slimy, squirmy thing, shoved some table salt in it's mouth - he said its so that it will accept milk from it's mother later - then grabbed some filthy rag and wiped down the snotty cream from it's coat. It baa'ed just like a baby! I stood in amazement of this creature of nature with a half smile/dropped jaw expression. Wow.

Despite this family representing the pillars of the town church, Liu Guan's father was this real easy-going stereotypical and lovable "China-man" with a seasonal-drinking sense of humor. It was his oldest son's wedding; can't blame the guy. I was "initiated" into Liu Guan's family via a Baijo ceremony. In case your wondering: Baijo is much like paint thinner but the Chinese drink it as alcohol and in turn glow in the brightest bodily red you can imagine.

When I returned to Beijing there was an entire nightlife of fun and socializing that opened before me that I never experienced because I had always worked nights. I had made friends with a community of expatriate looking to have some good-old harmless fun. It encouraged me to return some time in the future. Maybe, 2008 Beijing Olympics?

Getting everything prepared for going to Russia was tedious between juggling the visa and train tickets. Russia's not known for its convenient tourism. Apparently I got the very last Trans-Manchurian ticket, which the agent finagled as well. I said goodbye to my friends from the school and all the outstanding people at the hospital I had interned with. I wasn't able to get as far with research at the hospital as I liked, but it would have to do. Thank you BJU.

"Just go, don't plan. And think on the spot" seems to be the theme of the Siberian travel.

Thanks for reading.

Andrew Buck

Andrew's left Moscow now so we thank him for a great article and wish him all the best in the future

Editor