This was the old-style train from Yang Shuo to Shanghai and we held in our hands tickets that would guarantee us four hard seats for the 22 hour ride. We had splurged on plane tickets to backpack in the lush, moutainous region of Southern China so we struck a compromise with our excel budget sheets and opted to train our way home.
The train rolled away from the station, groaning, as us girls tried to sweet talk strangers into switching seats with us so the four of us would not be separated. The father, green soccer shirt stuffed into worn suit pants held together with a fake Crocodile belt, and his son were slow to agree. The young girl, with dark liquid eyes, quickly nodded and moved to our seats on the other side. While the father was muttering and groping for his shoes under the seats, a slip of a woman, holding her sleeping baby, slid between the crowds in the aisle and sat down on the father's new seat that we promised him.
Mr. soccer shirt, ousted by the little woman and her baby, towered over them, incessantly tapping his fingers on the headrest. The mother had a standing only ticket and her arms ached from the weight of her child. So she avoided the glare of the father and let her body lean into the seat for momentary reprieve.
The father roared for justice and demanded that we give him his original seat back, which would not solve the seating problem because then one of us would be standing instead. We hesitated, torn by our instinctive Christian spirit to give up our paid seat for the mother, but not quite ready to endure the agony of standing for 22 hours, especially for a passenger who intentionally bought the standing only ticket.
By now, the whole car, for sheer lack of entertainment, turned to look at the foreigners who had caused such a scene. The amahs, the wrinkled old ladies with peppered hair and flabby mouths, pointed and passed judgment. The foreigners were clearly wrong. They forced the mother out. Their hearts were like dog liver. They always thought they could do whatever they wanted. Just like when the Western devils came with their armies and carved up China. Ayah!
We were clearly on the wrong side of history (or public relations) and in danger of being pushed out of our seats. So my friend stood up, arms spread to address the whole car, and explained the situation. Seven adults with seven paid seats. One mother with standing ticket. Would anybody, with a standing ticket but is now sitting on an unoccupied seat, please stand up?
Silence. Eyes looked away. Fingers fiddled with loose buttons.
Then, rustling. A fifteen year old girl, with clipped-up bangs and checkered shirt, stood up.
Faith in humanity restored. Or just in outsourced moral dilemmas.
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Left to right: Good Samaritan, Madonna and child, and plenty of Pharisees
What would you have done?
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