chapter 7 - Guilin

As we stepped off the train at Guilin we were immediately inundated with students wanting to show us around the city for a fee and offering dubious assistance in many and various other capacities. In the end we agreed to go with one of them who spoke a little more English than the others, and who offered to take us to a restaurant as we were rather starving. It was his sister’s place, a tiny dirty place filled with old Christmas decorations (Christmas decorations in China? in May?) and one filthy round table. The food was good however, and we stuffed ourselves with a variety of things washed down with three big bottles of Guilin beer and tea poured continuously all over the table, regardless of how full our cups already were or in fact where they were. The sister was a real character with several teeth missing, a wild laugh and a total of eighteen English words. Everyone in China seems to have sidelines: hers is changing money at terrible rates, which we declined. as gracefullya s we could.

The best part of the evening was the conversation, which took place in a mixture of languages and arm movements and drawings. We heard many things, including the generation gap in China and how difficult it is for Chinese youths. Inflation, low wages, older people feeling things are changing too rapidly and younger people feeling things are not changing rapidly enough, a nation of boys who will grow up to be men unable to marry because girls are often aborted or killed by their own parents, newspapers that hide the truth, radical students in the north, a government made up of old people, prohibited foreign travel and glimpses of life elsewhere - all these have bred dissatisfaction wiht our hosts.

They asked about us. When asked what I do, I told them about my curitorial work, but they couldn’t grasp that anyone would actually be interested in seeing a whole room full of maps let alone making up exhibits to take to other countries.

“Maps? What is maps?”

I showed them my map of Guilin. Then I had to explain that it was a map of Guilin. They looked at it with more interest but no comprehension. “Who wants to see this maps?” “People?” “Someone pay you money for that?” “A lot of money?” “Why?” It’s oddly disturbing to have people doubt there’s any value in your work.

Hamish enthusiastically told them he was going back to school to do an Engineering degree, which is the first I’ve heard of it. The others understood what enginnering was all about and spent the rest of the evening talking to him, while I drank tea silently.

When we'd returned to our hotel room I asked him about it and he said it’s something he’d been thinking of for a while, and was so excited about actually making the decision. “All because of you, you know.” He pulled me down on the bed and kissed me breezily on the cheek.

I pulled away and sat up. “Me?"

"You've inspired me to look beyond. You are my muse."

I was suddenly feeling very unamused.

"How long will it take?”

“Three years.”

Three years! “How come you never mentioned it to me before?”
“I hadn’t thought it was something I could really consider. But this travelling thing has opened my eyes a bit. You are so right – I need to see more of this world.” He reached to pull me down again in a bear hug but I stood up.

“What do you mean - 'more of this world'?”

“Well, I’ll be in Germany.”

“What?”

“The best engineering program is in Germany. Of course I’ll miss the West Ham games, but I’ll follow them somehow, and then there is bound to be something going there. It’s a soccer nation. And change is good right?”

“Is that all you’ll miss?”

“Probably. England's on its way down, and Scotland - well it's there already. And German beer is excellent.”

“What about me? What about us?”

“Of course I’ll miss you. You can come and visit. Then I can show you around. You’ll be able to put away your maps and let me do the tour guide thing.”

I was crushed. Is this the guy I thought was the one for me? The father of my future children? This guy who obviously cares so little about our relationship that he doesn’t give it a single thought?

“I thought our relationship was good.”

He propped himself up on his elbows. “It is. Why do you think I want to do this? I’ll have more options so we can do more and go to more places. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be staying in a job I hate without realizing there’s more out there. Really out there. That all it takes is doing it.”

“But you haven’t said any of this to me before. I feel left out of your plans, your future.”

“These plans are all about my future, and that future, certainly the near future, includes you. You know that.”

“But how can I know that? If you don’t confide in me. Am I missing something?”

“So you’re allowed to do what you want and I’m not?”

“No of course not. But we need to communicate, to let the other one know."

“You are always doing things without telling me.”

“Little things maybe. Buying things. Going out with friends. Business trips." He arched his eyebrows at me which was infuriating. "I’m talking about the big things. Ambitions. Plans. Goals. I tell you all the time about things I want to do.”

“I thought that was just rambling. You do it a lot.”

“Well, it’s nice to finally have someone to talk to after all those years of no one. And I ask your opinion about everything. Because I value it. I don’t do that with everyone, anyone really, but I do it with you. I thought you valued mine. Opinion that is.”

“I do."

“But do you?”

“You know I do. Look, I have always felt a bit disillusioned. Fitting into one sector of society but feel like I belonged nowhere. Going from job site to job site. Mauual labour its not all it's cracked up to be. Can you wonder why I was so excited to meet you and hear the things that came out of your mouth? Telling me I can do other things, go other places.” He lay back and took my hand.

I looked down at our joined hands. I’m beginning to think I know nothing of the sort. Have I really given my heart to someone who is about to leave me? I can’t bear it.

We talked a little more, well Hamish mostly, who talked excitedly about his plans. We went for a cycle along the river and walked up two famous hills, Solitary Beauty and Fubo. Away from the grey city it is a remarkable and beautiful landscape. A curling brown river and distant stark hills rise out of nothing, many of them with little temples on top. Surprisingly free from the hordes of Chinese, Japanese and Malaysian tourists that we encounter everywhere, the hills were quiet and cool with breezes. Car horns honked and bike bells rang far below, but sounded not of this time and place. Almost musical. No wonder temples were built at the top of hills. I breathed in deeply and tried to get my equilibrium back, trying to figure out who this guy I’m travelling with really is. I thought I knew where I was with him, who he was. I should be happy that he wants a proper education, options, the things I treasure and take for granted. But instead I wonder if I want to travel with him at all.