The Sleeping City

As the van/bus pulled away from the airport a long column of lights leading the way to the city loomed farther ahead in relative darkness. The few shops/apartments where people were still awake emitted the eery glow of fluorescent light bulbs without any covering. Alternatively, some people opted for an incandescent bulb with no lampshade. Neither option achieved a warm and inviting look*. 

Innumerable shops drifted past our windows. However, the idea of a shop in China is very different from the idea of a shop in America. Imagine replacing strip malls with rows of storage units, building two story apartments on top of them, and then removing all parking lots and you'll have a rough idea of what most Chinese shops look like. 

We finally caught a break from the barrage of storefronts as the van/bus approached the bridge over the Han River. The bridge happened to be one of the few things that was lit up in the city, while the mighty Han flowed beneath us, dark and silent. A few more turns and then we wove our way up the mountain valley where the campus of XFU is nestled and arrived at our apartment building going on 48 hours without sleep.  The whole trip was somewhat surreal. 

I drew a room key at random, made the ascent to the 4^th floor of the apartment building, opened the door, quickly surveyed the place, and passed out on a rather firm mattress. 

*A proper lamp with shade has proved elusive, guess it's not a thing here.

Departures and Arrivals

As I stepped down from the plane onto the Xiangfan tarmac I was greeted by the fresh smell of evergreen trees after a rain. I was surprised because I had read that many provincial cities in China are home to heavy industries that saturate the air with pollution*. Refreshed and encouraged by the clean air, I continued across the tarmac to the terminal. 

Baggage claim was easy to find because all arrivals, departures, and baggage claims are made from a room about the size of my apartment.  Amazing that an airport serving a population of approx. 6 million can be so small**. Also, relieved that both my suitcase and guitar managed to follow along from Chicago.

We were greeted by three representatives from the university who escorted us out to a van/bus that apparently had survived the 1970's and was still kicking. The interior smelled something like a pop-up camper from the same era – musty and woodsy – the kind of earthy smell that can only come from sitting in a damp forest for a long time. This van/bus would provide our first real window into life in Xiangfan. Observations from the ride will follow in the next post.

*Later, I would come to find out that Xiangfan has a variety of smells to offer, some fresh, and others... not so much.

**Pretty much everyone travels by train, few can afford to fly internationally.