Checkpoint China

2009 08 09 – Day 44 - Chinese Border

The Chinese border 'post' is, in fact, a station of epic proportions with imposing austere, authoritarian architecture any ambitious Hollywood production designer would drool over.

Unfortunately we were there at night, which, while enhancing my intimidation as I waited on the vast platform with the other passengers, denied me the chance of discretely taking a decent photo. For those who think that night would be perfect cover, it wasn't so dark to the eyes that you couldn't see, but too dark to take a picture and not look like you're taking a picture. It is my impression, both anecdotally and through observation, that border officials don't look kindly on being treated as a 'sight'.

Eventually we were instructed back to our cabins to be present for official inspection.

When researching my trip and determining a route, I had read online of Chinese border officials sometimes confiscating Lonely Planet guidebooks as propaganda due to the omission of Taiwan as part of the nation. This contentious position is immediately obvious within the first few pages where, on a double page colour map of China, the island of Taiwan is the same grey colour as the uncontested neighbouring countries such as Russia, Kazakhstan, Pakistan, Vietnam etc. Lonely Planet guides are not cheap and I wasn't excited by the prospect of surrendering mine so, before leaving Almaty, I had carefully removed the offending map and secreted it deep within my bag such that only the most thorough of searches would expose it.

Back on the train at the border, the guard who was inspecting my bag had decided he wanted to look more thoroughly than any other border guard I'd yet encountered. He had a good rummage around and pulled a few things out to have a look at, taking particular interest in my various books. Of course the Lonely Planet China really caught his eye due to the Chinese characters throughout. He flicked backwards and forwards through the book several times, pausing every now, glancing at me and then continuing leafing through. It felt like he was looking for something... I couldn't help but think it was the missing map! He looked thoroughly enough at the book that when he eventually placed it on the upper bunk and gave it a little pat, I felt like he'd spotted something and I would face some uncomfortable questioning. Going through my other books more rapidly, he quickly established that there was nothing of interest to him. He indicated that I should repack my bag, returning my books to me. Was I off the hook?

After dealing with my bag, a second border official arrived at my door. At their indication I followed her off the train and across the now deserted platform, the stars watching our slow and small procession toward the monumental border building whose design function was now being fully realised: to make me, the outsider, feel small and insignificant. My mind raced. What had they found? What were they going to ask? The measured clip-clop of the official's heels on the concrete ate away the time till I'd know.

Inside, the building initially seemed deserted, but rounding a corner we arrived at a waiting area, largely lit by light spilling from an open doorway... the interrogation room!

However, I was pleased to see that in the waiting area were a few people sat with a guard... it was two English guys and a Japanese guy from my carriage. One by one we were called into the bright room. When my turn came I was almost disappointed at the mundanity of the questions! Why are you visiting China? Where will you visit? Etc. But really I was relieved that I wasn't about to be denied entry, happy for my experience of really dramatic interrogations to remain the stuff of fiction.

As the train pulled away into the night, it felt comforting to know that now, after racing across Europe and Central Asia for the last six weeks or so, I wouldn't have anymore border crossings, time-zone changes or currency exchanging to do for at least another two months.