Getting there - the Taxi

The flight was bumpy owing to the rainy weather in the area of ChongQing. On the flight, Kay and I busied ourselves looking over the letters that the families had sent to the orphanage.

The plane finally touched down in Chongqing in the middle of dense fog and rain.

We had train tickets reserved, but we discovered at the airport that there was a plane flight available directly to Qianjiang. The flight departed 1 hour before the train departure, and took 45 minutes, while the train took nearly 4 hours. Kay and I decided to gamble and take the flight. We checked in our bags, and tried to surf the Internet using the airport wifi. The Great Firewall still stopped me from blogging, but I was able to check email.

The foul weather continued, and we received an announcement that the plane was delayed an hour. We had to make a critical decision as to whether or not we should stick with our flight plans, which meant giving up on the train. Our train departure time passed, and our pulse picked up a bit. We had a quick airport lunch, and waited for the flight.

I was tryin to get on the Internet on my laptop, when Kay rushed up to me with a very worried face -"the flight has been cancelled!"

Although this was a setback, I was not in despair. I had come so far, and knew that perseverance was the only option. We WERE going to get to Qianjiang somehow, and that was that!

There were several other people in our situation as we lined up to gt back our checked baggage. Kay was busy gathering the opinions of other travellers. The popular sentiment was to go now to the airport bus station to look into bus transport. It appeared with the building of a new highway, a direct bus would take about the same time as the train.

I only had a small carryon bag with me, but others had carts of luggage as we all lumbered to the bus ticket counter. Our moods grew heavy as we found out that there no buses going to Qiangjiang today.

With this new obstacle placed in front of us, I started to think of other options. I asked Kay about a rental car. After asking around, a one way rental was not possible (and probably required a mountain of paperwork). How about hiring a car? No, the taxis would not go there, and we couldn't find anyone who knew of any car hire agencies.

It looked like our only option was to get a taxi and go to the train station to look when the next train to Qiangjiang was leaving. Kay and I, along wih 2 other women who were bound for Qianjiang on our cancelled flight, crammed ourselves into a tiny taxi, three of us in the back, 1 in the front. The young lady in the front was in an obvious state of restlessness, having wanted badly to reach Qianjiang today.

Kay's head perked up a bit after chatting with the driver. She said to me, " this driver is willing to go to Qianjiang!". Hey, things were looking up!

Then the 3 passengers exhaled in disgust as the taxi driver offered his price - 1900 rmb(300 usd) which was over 4 times the price of an airline ticket. After very animated and heated bartering, the price came down to 1600 rmb, which was still expensive, and thus the passengers looked resigned to press on towards the train station in the steady rain and heavy slow moving traffic. The train might be slower, but was cheaper by a factor of 10 (even when the fare was divided by the 4 of us).

I asked Kay,"can you call ahead and see if the train is even an option for today?". Kay asked around and nobody seemed to be able to accomplish this query.

The taxi driver was in firey debate as I told Kay"let's take a bigger share of the price"(as everyone in the cab would surely assume I had the money)"and see if the other passengers will go for it!"

Apparently the driver was hungry for the fare, and after a very fierce verbal battle amongst all participants, we agreed on a price of 1400 rmb, at which time the driver jerked the wheel, and we headed for the highway.

Kay had told me that the driver seemed shady and was probably making a healthy profit, but I couldn't tell by looking at him. Not knowing anything that was said, I could only sit back and smile a bit at our newly formed troupe of travelers. I felt very happy to be deep in true Chinese culture. Everyone in the car was in a passionate state of unhappiness. I just love passion.
Yet, despite the unhappiness, despite the fact that we all felt to be in a losing situation, the fact was that we were all winners. Total strangers, hell bent on having their own way, while not achieving it, were able to get the job done. Civilization at it's finest.

Everyone was sulking, but I couldn't help but feeling good. We were on our way!

The tiny yellow cab groaned through gears while heavily loaded with passengers. Still in uncomfortable silence, we sat rigid, trying to maintain civil personal distance, even though everyone in the back seat was pressed together like sardines in a can.

(The Sardines)

The woman in the front maintained her disgruntled state, while we in the back slowly started to relax, having come to an unstated agreement of personal space whereby our body contact was not regarded with disgust, but rather as a respectful resignation of our condition. Tensed muscles could no longer hold their position, and my shoulder became a "respected pillow", and the other woman's feet were now being overlapped by Kay's feet.

The car's engine sounded about as angry as the woman in the front seat looked, as we went as fast as we dared in moderated traffic in the opaque mist of this spring rain.

I forgot who broke the ice, but before long, short bursts of speech came out from the women. I was happy for this, for as heated as the debate was during our price negotiation, I saw plain goodness in the faces around me, and knew that beneath it all must have been people who were all too ready for a friendly chat.

The woman in the front, however, remained in a state of tension, even as she opened up and told us about her business in Qianjiang, and her trip to Guangzhou. Nobody seemed interested in engaging the taxi driver with conversation, however, since it was still regarded that he was heavily overcharging us.

Just as things seemed to be getting along well, the driver announced that he needed to refuel. Grousing amongst the girls began when it was announced that we needed to find a special gas station because the car ran on a combination of propane gas and gasoline.

We finally found a station, but once we saw that there was nearly a kilometer long line of cars (mostly local taxis) waiting to refuel, the anger could no longer be contained.

(us parked in line for refueling. other taxis are in front of us, and the gas station is far out of view in the distance ahead)

Veins in the neck protruded as both the driver and the front passenger yelled at each other, hands waving angrily closer and closer to each other. Kay later explained to me that the woman, already upset over our high cab fare, was now enraged that we would be delayed further by this refuel stop. The woman demanded that the driver refuel with the more expensive fuel - gasoline - and continue the journey. The driver responded that the only way he was going to make any money on his trip was to refuel with the less expensive propane.

The woman in the front declared that a member o her family was a local police official and was threatening to report him for his exorbitant fee once we arrived to our destination.
The girls in the back valiantly tried to diffuse the argument, but as the driver stopped in the propane fuel queue line, both the driver and the woman in the front got out of the car to further their argument.

We in the back unpeeled ourselves from each other and stretched our legs.

It was an uncomfortable realization that I was in the middle of nowhere, on the verge of being left on the side o the road by a driver who was being pushed to the edge of his patience.

"well," I said out loud, to nobody, considering carefully my next step, " I guess I'd better have a potty break!"

(our tiny cab, finally being refueled with propane - note the orange fuel hose in the front)