There and back

Large curtained picture window, upholstered armchair and table covered in white lacy cloth. Blue and white potted philodendron (money plant ) alive on the table, blue and white carpet underfoot. Clean, white linen, soft pillows and quilt on bed. En-suite toilet, shower facilities, toiletries and long mirror on door. Air-conditioning, T.V. and Public Address system with separate controls. Luxury hotel suite? No, Deluxe Soft Sleeper on the Hong Kong/Beijing Train.
Jingjiu Railway compartments come in Soft Sleeper (two berth) which I had all to myself on return trip, Hard Sleeper (four berth), six berth room. Prices go from about US$180 to under US$100.
T97 Hong Kong Beijing train leaves from Hung Hom station (Hong Kong) at 15.15 and reaches Beijing West Railway station about 24 hours later. The trip back T98, leaves from the same station Beijingxi, (Beijing West, not Beijing Station) about 12:00 and arrives in Hung Hom mid-day, the next day. The ticket if purchased in Beijing will be issued for Jiulong (Kowloon). Trains depart on alternate days from both ends.
At least an hour allowance should be made for security check, health check and immigration.
On approaching the Hong Kong China border at Lowu passengers surrender their passports to train staff. These are returned when almost in Beijing.
Along the route the express train picks up no passengers except at Lowu. At limited stops at stations in Changsha, Wuhan and Zhengzhou passengers travelling from Guangzhou are allowed to get off and at these stations laundry and rubbish are unloaded and things needed on the train picked up. When stopping at stations train staff request passengers draw the curtains on windows, for privacy perhaps.

Hard working manager, cigarette dangling between lips

It is a ‘no smoking’ train but happy addicts light up in the passages between coaches and vicarious smokers can often enjoy tobacco smoke coming in through the vents near the doors. The non-smoking rule does not apply to the male train-staff and chefs and others in uniform light up even in the buffet carriage every spare moment they get.

Chef and Supervisor meet for a smoke

Staff speak Mandarin and some Cantonese, no staff speak English. Only Yuan, no foreign money, is accepted in the buffet coach. Buffet coach is open only at meal times. The one page laminated Chinese menu consists of limited selection.

Menu

It is easy to navigate but pictures of dishes look similar except for a fish shaped dish and a yellow one (ham and eggs). No vegetarian dishes, time to fast, detoxify. No requests for noodles in hot water will be accepted.
Hot and cold water are available at the end of carriages.
Extra toilets between carriages are both pedestal and squat. Spotlessly clean and smelling strongly of disinfectant as the train leaves Hong Kong but as the hours pass get progressively smelly and are quite evil by the time you reach your destination.
When the buffet carriage is closed train staff carry big baskets of China version of fake lacquer ‘Bento Boxes’ of rice dishes and other interesting food for sale, and they walk through the corridor at times calling out their wares. This lovely sing-song calling-out has a quaint ring to it, reminiscent of calls in other languages in other trains elsewhere.

Reading 'End to Suffereing' by Pankaj Mishra

The day-long meditative trip from Hong Kong, almost yogic in quality, does not quite prepare passengers when spewed out at the Beijing West Station. Immediately after security check and immigration you are on your own. The vast station of seething mass of humanity shouting, walking, running, pushing; or squatting relaxed and smoking or stretched out asleep with luggage for pillows. It is pretty confusing and difficult to contend with if you are not a Beijinger. When trying to seek out transport it is not wise not to try out your English, go for Mandarin, or have the address of your hotel written down in Chinese. All taxis run on meters, but might be useful to remind the driver to have it running.
Curiosity on seeing a dark skinned person on their part and a good dose of nodding, grinning, and ‘xie’ xie’ on my part worked for me.
I would do this trip again and this time will be armed with champagne and carrot sticks for breakfast and packets of crisps, packet noodles, and green tea for the rest of the meals.

more at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beijing-Kowloon_Through_Train

Yukio Mishima: Patriotism

From a British book stall at Expo 70 in Osaka, Japan, I picked up a stack of books by Japanese authors, some written in English and some translated. Since then I have become totally fascinated by Japanese culture, stories and writers.

‘Yukoku’ – Patriotism is a rare short story, beautifully translated by Geoffrey W. Sargent.

This haunting tale of a young married couple dizzyingly in love portrays tradition and culture that value love, honour, duty. To these three qualities is added death. It is the character of the young wife that struck me most. Reiko’s loyalty, love for her husband and bravery grips the readers, keeps them focused in this extraordinary tale of a culture too difficult and complex to understand by anyone steeped in modern or western standards.

The couple is acutely aware of each other. Reiko of her husband’s manliness and strength and love for her. He is the sun around which her world revolves. Lieutenant Shinji Takeyama deeply and passionately loves his beautiful, chaste and devoted wife to whose warmth he returns each night from training as a soldier.

Right from the beginning the story is overwhelming.

Only a few months into their marriage the lieutenant learns of the failed coup in which some of his close friends are involved. It would require him to carry out the assassination of his comrades and he himself would carry the dishonour of being branded as member of the mutiny team. Reiko learns the news on the radio and waiting alone at home knows finality has come. Her noble husband will perform ritual seppuku. From their first day together she knows as soldier’s wife she must be prepared for death of her husband at any time. She calmly readies herself, gets things in order. She will accompany him in death. With quiet deliberation she packs her best kimonos, labels them for her friends, packs up the few trinkets she owns, addresses them and sets them aside, and waits for her husband to return.

When he eventually arrives home he tells her what has happened and what he must do. He will commit seppuku that night. She asks permission to follow him. They prepare themselves. They share ‘sake’ and experience one last passionate, seductive, and sensual love making, they find their awareness of each other is even more acute.

Trusting her implicitly he asks her to witness, and to help and hasten his death. This she does. She sits watching her husband’s pain of dying, and when his sword slashing his stomach does not kill him he, accompanied by feverish death throes, tries to cut his throat. She helps him loosen his collar. After her husband is dead she calmly sets about preparing her own demise.

What follows is a most touching scene of human bravery and dedication. She leaves her husband’s body and descends sensuously to the ground floor in ‘her socks slippery with blood’, her white kimono now boldly patterned by blood, her husband’s blood. She switches off the gas, pours water on the brazier of half-burnt coals, and unbolts the door leaving it slightly ajar. She applies make up and goes to sit beside her husband with the dagger her mother had given her at marriage. She kills herself.

A breathtakingly beautiful read.

The author, Yukio Mishima committed seppuku on November 25, 1970 at the age of 45.

Travelling friends meet
Air sparking energy
Love and laughter
We talk of
Writing and friendship
Families and good times

An amazingly beautiful eve
Sky dramatic
Grey clouds chasing black
Lightning streak electric
Thunder resound thunder

at Zefferini’s

31 floors above

Our star Marjorie left Hong Kong for China, leaving China for Canada, another farewell

Becky off to celebrate her birthday, a production in great style, in her hometown in a Southern State, USA

Ellen planning a big summer trip, a safari maybe, and Lavinia off to meet Denzel, as in Washington, but in New York

And here are We

to see another Marjorie farewell: http://www.leela.net/blog/?p=30

Attack on Aid Providers

The recent attack on a flotilla of aid ships in international waters shocked the world. Israel knew the ships had set off in spite of their warning. Those volunteering ships, aid, crew and passengers on the flotilla also knew Israel objected but nobody expected the Israeli Government would act so high handed in trying to abort the charitable mission .

It was too cowardly an act and too foolish and dangerous of the Israel soldiers to descend on to the ship of civilians before dawn, in the dark, frightening them into defensive action. Imagine a ship full of men, woman and children who see naval boats speed towards them and helicopters arrive overhead from which commandos in battle uniform rappel with machine guns and land in their midst. Did not the soldiers expect any reaction? With this act they managed to kill and wound, and confiscate not only the ship but also personal property. What a disaster!

Politicians, statesmen and stateswomen around the world were outraged but like a lot of mealy mouthed puppets what most seem to do is talk, words and more words: ‘this is deeply regrettable, a tragic loss of life, this is ridiculous, intolerable, unacceptable’ and they keep spewing a whole lot of pathetic words. We need action. Will punishment be meted out for the atrocities?

If the Israelis fear weapons being hidden with the aid material brought in an international body could be set up to inspect the goods coming in.

Recently British and Australian passports were forged in Israel and Israeli assassins killed Hamas commander Mahmoud al Mabhouh.

When US Vice President Joe Biden was in Israel to talk of curbing further build up of Israeli homes in occupied land the Israeli government snubbed the US and the whole world by announcing new plans for expansion of more than 1,600 homes.

These two incidents alone show how little respect Israel has for rest of the world.

In December 2008 with the aim of halting rockets from Gaza Israel launched a three week war with the Palestinians who had no planes, no bombs, no tanks, no modern artillery. 1,400 Palestinians were killed and 13 Israeli attackers died. A year on they have reported no success story, and in spite of Israel’s claim of allowing aid they see fit, 1.5 million Palestinians, cramped into a narrow strip of land, still lack food, clean water, medical facilities, schools and housing. If the Israeli government was as compassionate as it tries to tell the world it should by now have built up the infrastructure it destroyed.

I hope this last atrocious Israeli attack will result in serious action being taken against this unholy government. Let there be accountability in action, not just in talk.

It is now time to ask – Where Israel’s borders are?

He called me ‘Sir’

It is not often I fly business class these days.

When I ran my antique business it was a viable proposition, besides the fact I had more luggage allowance I could also freight suitcases unaccompanied.

Some progress has been made over the years with regards to single women travelling. It is good to see that women business class passengers, especially me, a 5th. class citizen, do not get the ‘you-have-no-business-in-this-class’ look, or a quick once over, to see, which man was foolish enough to have picked me up. Here I must explain how I’m 5th class – priority-wise there is white man, coloured man, white woman, other, and then me, the dark one. But these days I get the same lovely charming smile and welcome as the other species, and good service.

Of all the trips I have made over the years the recent one stands out as quite unique. In a two seat arrangement I settle in comfortably next to a Chinese gentleman with the aura of an iceberg and the look of an active volcano. A beautiful young stewardess comes over and kneels by me, looks lovingly at Mr. IcebergVolcano and me as if we are a honeymoon couple and says ‘Welcome aboard Mr. and Mrs. Panikar’. Noticing my look of surprise that both my deceased parents are travelling unknown to me, and the scowl from the male passenger next to me, she quickly glances down her clipboard. She says, ‘Oh, Ms. Panikar, what would you like to have to drink.’ I order my standard champagne. Note no shock registered, no hidden smirk. She stands up with much grace and walks away, not bothering with my fellow passenger. The stewardess on the other isle would serve him.

When it is time for lunch, we have starters served individually with the flourish of a Michelin standard restaurant. Main course. A tall, handsome steward, collapses down to my sitting height with a tray for my selection, ‘Your Food Sir’ he says. I look at tray offered, three dishes: Chicken and rice, Seafood and pasta, Beef and noodles. And I say ‘Vegetarian’. And he says ‘Yes, Sir,’ and walks away not saluting. Everyone is extremely courteous and the staff rustle up a vegetarian meal. Quite inedible, but that’s not the point.

After lunch I settle down to reading my Kindle, there’s a bit of a turbulence and an airhostess rushes up to me and tells me I am not allowed to use my computer (Kindle not connected and lighter than a paperback).

Plane landed, trip over, we file out. One hostess hangs on to the dividing curtain with one hand preventing economy passengers charging out. She clutches her mobile phone with the other and is furiously chatting while the passengers squeeze past her.

In my many years of air-travel I was of the opinion in-flight magazines are complimentary. I could be wrong about this. From time to time I have taken my copy home. This time as I exit the plane the other stewardess at the gate thanks me for flying with them and then snatches the magazine off my hand. I am stunned, stop short in my tracks, smile and ask, ‘May have it’. She is sweet, smiling too. She gives it to me, ‘Sure’.

Wonder what creative changes I can expect on my next trip.
Guess flying could be boring without these incidents, my mini adventures.