This article first appeared in the St. Louis Beacon, Oct. 1, 2010 - The physical road from Dalian, Liaoning Province, China to Ulan Bator, Mongolia, took me straight north to Inner Mongolia, then west through Inner Mongolia to a convenient city, then north from that city to the border, across the border into Mongolia, then northeast to Ulan Bator, the capital. (My compass directions are not exact.)
The emotional road led me through France, the birthplace of Antoine de Saint-Exupery, author of "The Little Prince." He supplied these two maxims: (1) "He who would travel happily must travel light" and (2) "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye."
Traveling light is relative; and I had hoped to get going with 15 pounds or so. Actually I was carrying 28 in two bags when I went out the door. Both bags were on my body so my hands were free and the weight was about equally distributed between the two. One a standard book-carrying bag like I used as a student and teacher; the other a quick and very serviceable backpack made from a 55-pound cornstarch sack, 79 inches of wide webbing material and three lengths of parachute cord to tie it together.
Each end of the webbing was tied to a bottom corner of the sack; an overhand knot in the middle adjusted the strap lengths and went inside the top of the sack, which was gathered with the knot inside and tied with the third piece of parachute cord. Inside this bag-backpack was my homemade airline carry-on luggage bag which is double layered, so I had three closed layers between my stuff and the dust. I heard there was a lot of dust. With these bags I set out.
The train I took to leave Dalian departed from a station neither I nor my Chinese friends had ever heard of. We looked it up. The little station was pretty packed and it felt good: People there generated a nice atmosphere. When the time came, I found my car and bunk and put my bags up: the backpack with lesser needed things on the luggage rack and the book-bag with toilet kit, snacks, etc., into the bunk with me.
Pretty soon we were rolling and people went to bed. The next morning I got up and washed, had a light breakfast ("white tea"* and a tea egg) and at 8 got off in Tongliao. My first business was to buy a ticket to my next destination so I was thinking about that as I got off, completely unaware of what was about to happen to me.
The building behind the platform revealed no doors or signs to indicate where I should go so I asked one of the two employees standing near us, "Where do I need to go to buy a ticket?" This simple request to a stranger set in motion an astounding experience that has warmed the hearts of the many travelers who have heard it so far and that I will now share.
The man I asked listened attentively to my request and then motioned me to follow him. He led me out the exit gate of the platform area where I had to show my ticket (as usual) and then around into the front of the building. He didn't take me to the ticket windows but rather back into the center of the building through doors where non-employees wouldn't normally go.
We came to an expansive office that included a bed. He went around a large desk and sat down. People were waiting to talk to him and, interspersed with quite a number of these over the next hour and a half, he took a personal interest in my situation and sorted out my problem.
I did have a problem, although I didn't know it at that time: The ticket information I had from the internet was completely wrong. Bless his heart. Though my Chinese language ability was sadly lacking and he didn't speak English, he kept at it until I understood the situation. The train I thought I wanted would not do what I wanted to do!
Once we got past that, we could proceed and I had the rough maps I had printed so I could indicate where I wanted to go and how.
I had another problem I didn't yet know about: The train I needed, normally difficult to get a hard sleeper ticket for, was going to be doubly difficult because it was loaded with university students going to the concentration of universities in Hohhot, the capital. However, in time, a man came in carrying a sleeper ticket for me. It was for an upper berth - the least desirable of the three levels available - and my benefactor apologized for that, saying he'd see if he could change it for a middle- or a lower-berth. He had gotten me "home free" so I thanked him and said goodbye. He was a busy man and I didn't want to bother him unnecessarily. Before I left - this was mid-morning - he said he'd meet me that afternoon and go down to the train with me when it arrived.
This might have been only politeness and I was more than prepared to accept it for that - he had already done so much. But when I returned to the station before train time and was going up the steps, I felt someone's hand on my arm. It wasn't just politeness. He took me down to the platform early and, when the train arrived, asked to talk to the train-master. When he arrived, my friend tried to secure me a middle- or lower berth ticket. There simply weren't any. After a couple of minutes, I realized it was up to me to resolve the situation so I told the train-master that it was OK, thanked him warmly for his consideration, and the station manager (that's who he was) got on the train with me.
Oh, while we were waiting on the platform for the train to arrive an assistant ran up breathless, carrying a small normal rolling suitcase. Seems the station manager had decided I should have something other than my cornstarch sack-become-backpack and had seen to it. We stuffed my backpack into it. When we were on the train he said, "After you climb up to your bunk I'll give you your ticket." I tossed my book-bag up with an easy motion and I guess that convinced him that I could manage the upper bunk OK because he gave me my ticket without waiting for me to climb up. We said our "goodbyes" and he was gone.
A person can't expect things like this to happen but sometimes they do. There was no reason, no need for him to do so much to help me. I can't do anything for him. As a transaction it makes no sense. For me treating relations with people as only transactions makes no sense. So when someone acts from what seems to be simple, old-fashioned friendship I am deeply appreciative and grateful.
PS This isn't all or the end of the story, but if I tell you more you'll think it's impossible. I'll stop.
This trip lasted 4 nights and 3 1/2 days in easy stages. All of the train parts were in sleeper bunks. I took the bus from Jining to Erlian, and spent a night in Erlian. So it was one night from Dalian to Tongliao, a pleasant day in Tongliao, a night and the following morning on the train to Jining, afternoon bus from Jining to Erlian, eat dinner and spend the night in Erlian, laze around Erlian the next morning, early afternoon bus to cross the border to Zamad-Ud, at the Zamad-Ud train station let the mad rush for the 5:30 train to Ulan Bator pass and then take the 9:25 train, sleep the night on the train, arrive around 9 the next morning and take the local bus (or walk) to the guesthouse near the train station. Friendly Mongolians meeting a sister on the train took me to the door of the guesthouse. What more could I ask?
*"White tea" is just hot water to drink.
Gannaway is on his way.
Editor's note
From time to time, we will be printing missives from Woodson T. Gannaway, an American who came to China in 1999 to teach at the Liaoning Teacher's College in Dalian and has been in Dalian ever since, teaching at different schools with other informal classes along the way.