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The bus ride was 3 hours, and kind of fun. It was a “road
trip.” Some interesting sights were lots of water buffalo being used to plow fields;
Chinese architecture that was relatively new-looking, but in a somewhat traditional style
(e.g., whole towns made of gray cement blocks with oriental roofs); a place where the bus
stopped and people came along to sell such things as cookies and sugar cane; a big hill
with a temple on top; lots of rice fields--quite small; fields with a yellow-flowered
plant, apparently rape; people raising vegetables on very small plots--maybe five or six
cabbages on a little plot of land; and concrete telephone and electrical poles. I enjoyed
the views. [1996 update: A new road has been built between Nanchang and Fuzhou, and the trip is
much shorter now.] When we got to the bus station, it was like we were celebrities arriving. People looked and stared. We stood out on the steps of the bus station, and a crowd of 50 gathered (I counted). People inside the station also looked and went out of their way to look. I’m sure we were the subject of a few conversations over dinner tonight! March 11, 1989. Saturday, 11:30 p.m. March 12, 1989. Sunday. I saw lots of children taking their potty breaks in the street, with Mom or Dad holding them up. The houses often had red antithetical couplets hanging on each side of the door, and many houses were made of wood. (Wood is a “rare” item in parts of China--there was an extensive deforestation program in the 1950s--I think that’s when it was--and so things made of wood are unusual. Poles are made of concrete, and generally speaking, you see fewer wooden items than at home. I’d wondered why people didn’t have fireplaces to beat the cold, and apparently the lack of wood is one reason.) Also in the morning I went to a market, which was fairly typical except for the baby chickens which were being sold. I saw someone with a pig’s head he had just bought--I wonder what they do with them. Our group decided to take a mini-van back to Nanchang; lots make the trip, they are privately owned, and leave when full. We found one, and all put our stuff on, but they noticed that one tire didn’t look good. Li Wei [a Chinese man married to an American woman] was able to tell that the van people were concerned about it and planned to stop to fix it after we were all on and “stranded” with them (he understood the local dialect). And so we all got off and chose another van--for one yuan less per person. I sat by the door, which wouldn’t latch, and so the guy who took people’s money wedged a stool in to prevent it from opening. The van at one time had about 28 in it, even though there were seats for perhaps 15. They brought out stools for people to sit in the aisle. I felt so impatient with all those getting on and taking my space--at one time I even wanted to prevent (by force) someone from getting on. Not a good emotion to have. Sights along the way were the Buddhist Temple on top the mountain, and lots of the yellow-flowering plant--rape--which is used for oil. Because of road construction we had to stop once for probably 45 minutes. We were at a country-side village. Lots of people came by selling sugar cane and other stuff. We had about 50 people standing around looking at us. I got off the van, and held someone’s baby, which was a bit fun. If you would like to contribute photos or information to this website please e-mail me at webmaster@gurrad.com |