The tiredness of the journey begun to sweep over us. As she was asleep, she tended to tilt her head toward me. Each time I thought it could touch my shoulder, suddenly it stood upright as if she felt a sense of danger, disoriented, slowly leaning on the window of the bus―I was thinking about whether her strategy or not, even though the tour conductor spoke eloquently.
On the sunny afternoon, we were walking on pathways through the woods in Jiuzhaigou National Park. She grumbled about something. “There was a Russian man in my dormitory room before. He was too bothering. He asked me out so many times.” There she goes again. I thought. That was the simple way to stimulate jealousy of a man, who might accelerate his approach to her.
“We sat on a riverbank talking about astronomy. So exhausted, physically and mentally. Because I wasn’t interested in it, much less him.” While I supposed that she just wanted a man whoever he was, I made her look good. “You are popular, don’t you? Everyone wants to talk with you.” “Not really,” she smirked and looked a little tired, a long hike, maybe.
When Vivid color came into view, Five Flower Lake, through gap in ancient trees, she got her second wind. So intense in the center, that it shed an emerald green luster that lost its color outward―the submerged tree trunks complemented its beauty.
The route from the park to Chengdu―the tour bus stoped by the resting area. We were enjoying browsing in the souvenir shop; loitering about then looking for gifts together, maybe drifting apart. When I went out from there, I spotted her talking with a young man of another tour group. They spoke English and exchanged WhatsApp IDs. After that, they started to walk side by side around the exhibit; She had dismissed me from her mind. In some ways I felt inferior to them—I could hardly speak English and was reserved with strangers.
I got on the bus alone and sat down in my seat. After a while, I noticed that she came back and I did not pay her any mind, but she said, “You know what? He was a Taiwanese. We exchanged contacts. I’m wondering about visiting Taiwan someday.” “That’s good,” I said, not looking at her.
During the bus trip, at times she was glued to WhatsApp, Facebook or LINE(akin to Whats APP) on her smartphone. “Guess what? I’ll show you,” she scrolled through her phone. “This is him, a gross man in Thailand.” she muttered. I took a squint at the photo of a mediocre man, who would play with her feeling. “I wish to see him, I’m thinking over when I could … .” “Tomorrow,” I suggested. “No way … ,” she grinned and I laughed, not wanting to appear annoying. “Tomorrow, I’m going to Hong Kong. I’ll leave Chengdu no later than 9 am.” “Okay, I will see you off, uh … how about the lobby in the hostel?” she said. “I wish I could get up by then … .” “No biggie, take it easy.”
The next morning, I lounged on the sofa in the lobby, but she did not show up at that time. When I got to my feet and put my backpack on, the entrance door opened. “Oh, you were awake?” She stood there without expression on her face; I went out to catch a taxi, followed by her, “Yes, I ate ramen at a stall, five yuan (about $1 in 2016), very cheep but nice.” “You have to save your money, don’t you?” “Yes, After China, I am going up to the north toward Russia, stopping briefly in Xi’an, and in Mongolia where I’m staying at the ger.” “That’s good.” I raised my hand to stop a taxi, turning to her, “I’ll be in touch with you.” “Okay,” she nodded.
I knew that a kind of woman flitted from one man to another. Nevertheless, I was glad that there were her replies to my mail, photos of pandas in Xi’an and the ger in Mongolia attached, but soon, I lost contact with her.
Three months later I received a mail from her. “How have you been? I was able to get to Larung Gar and Yarchen Gar, a city of East Tibet―I enjoyed the hot springs and the superb view. And then, through the Silk Road, I’ll come back to Kyrgystan, then, Tajikistan … . I sent you their photo. Tajikistan was the most beautiful view ever… .”
I opened the photo folder―what a tremendous beauty. I pressed the reply mark: “Thank you for your message and photos… .” It occurred to me that, like mediocre men in Thailand, Russia, Taiwan and more, she would be somewhere comfortable. I erased the draft.
* Larung Gar and Yarchen Gar are most likely to be closed for foreigners.
