I fumble in the dark looking for my shoes. Earlier I had dropped my passport on the floor of the bus and the little girl below me pointed to where it was. Panicked, I jump out of my cot and searched the floor for my wallet containing my passport and money. I thought what would happen if... Now, I am fumbling to find my shoes and hurry to the front of the bus. I am more than a little nervous. I ask Colin to come with me. I hastily grabbed my coat, put my shoes on and stumble off the bus almost falling into a snow bank. At the door, heavy stale air is met with a dry frigid breeze. If it was not so cold it could feel refreshing. The cop was standing there in his dark blue sub zero jacket with his rabbit skin Cossack hat on. "You speak Chinese?" I'm thinking, I need to get a handle on this language. "No" I said and he starts to interrogate me in Chinese. This is when Colin shows up wearing nothing but jeans and T shirt. " It's cold" He says. The policeman turns from me and starts rapid fire to Colin pointing at my passport and getting agitated. Now I am thinking, maybe a few lessons before I left would have helped. Colin looks at me and says, "the police say you passport is wrong."
"What do you mean, wrong?"
Colin asks the cop to explain and with agitation in his voice he flips the passport open to the visa page and starts tapping on it with his finger, all the while his he is getting louder and speaking faster. Tap tap tap. Colin looks white. I want to know what is transpiring and I ask Colin what the policeman is saying. Colin says, " the police think my visa is expired. He say that visa expire in February." Now I tell the cop in my perfect English no no no, that that can't be! No way! He's looking at me with a quizzical look but not the ha ha look everyone gets when they get the joke. I point at the passport and say that that this visa is not the right visa. Earlier in the week there was some discussion of whether I would be able to go to Xinjiang Provence at all for the holidays. Doris, the foreign teachers liaison sent my passport off to Nanjing to get a resident working visa. When Doris found out where I was planning to go she said, You cannot and will not go anywhere with out your passport. Smart woman that Doris. Time is short and Colin has to get tickets to Urumqi. I tell Colin hold off on my ticket until I know I have my passport in time to travel. Colin worries because he thinks that I will not get a seat. Smart kid that Colin. I tell Colin then go without me and I will follow him the day after. That bothers him. The day after Colin buys his ticket, Doris goes to Nanjing and picks my passport up along with Alli and Andrews, two young American teachers, who couldn't travel without theirs either. The week before we had to buy tickets to travel, we all go to Doris and asked her if we could get our passports. She says that she was not sure when the passports are coming back from Nanjing but that everything will be OK if they come back soon. She does not know when soon was going to happen, and she stops talking about it. Colin has already been to the train station three times to buy tickets. Now I have to tell him I may have to leave later than he does. Colin doesn't like the idea of me traveling alone and he having to spend the night in Urumqi waiting for me. I was not relishing that either. So we wait a day. He decides to buy a ticket for himself on the twenty third. He is anxious. He is afraid if he waits too long he won't get a seat. The day after Doris makes a run to Nanjing and picks the passports up. I tell Colin to go buy my ticket. He is worried now because it is late and there may not be seats left only standing room. I tell him not to worry we get what we get and will work on upgrading later. In the meantime, the passport has to go to the local police for processing. Processing takes five to seven days. I need pictures for the paper work and get the passport to the police that day otherwise the passport will not be ready in time. I asked Doris what kind of picture she needs and she say any would do. So we take with us the shot of me with my glasses on my head and we all head down to the police station to hand in the paper work and answer some questions. The timing of all this has to be right. We drop everything off and everyone is happy. It now looks like all the pieces are falling into place at just the right time. Several days pass and everyone is getting ready to leave. Colin has both our tickets asks everyday if I have my passport. No, I tell him, it's coming. Two days before we are to leave, I go to the office to see if Doris has the passports. Time is short and everyone including myself are starting to stress. Doris tells me that the passports are not ready, end of discussion. I leave. My cell phone rings and it is Colin. "Doris is have a problem with you. You need to see Doris." Great. Why didn't she tell me this when I was there? I call Doris and ask her what the problem is. She says my picture is wrong. She sounds worried. The police will not process my paperwork without the right picture. OMG! Holy Cripe! What now! Knowing that now I must move quickly, I hightail it to the local photography studio and have passport pictures done. I rush the photographer and then I rush to the office with the pictures and Doris and I sprint away in a taxi to the police station downtown to hand them the right photos. When we arrive, we hustle to the visa desk. Doris says something to the policewoman, she yells at Doris. Doris points to a list on the desk with my name on it and says something back to her. There is a brief exchange of words and looks, the lady yells at her again, Doris takes the admonishment without saying anything and hands the woman the pictures. The woman, passes them off to another policeman working at the same desk yells something to Doris then ignores her. Doris head hanging waits. tick tick tick. The other cop finally looks up from what he is doing and says something to Doris and she perks up. He then tells me to stand still, he takes my picture and leaves. Two minutes and a small lifetime later he comes back, papers in hand. He passes them over to Doris and with relief in Doris' eyes, we leave. Upon leaving, Doris looks at me and says "I was not sure whether they reject your visa. I don't know what I do if they had" Ah, a moment of clarity passes between us. What if... Now, I am pointing at the passport and tell the cop the current visa is on another page. He looks at me. I look at him. He turns the pages. Nothing, brainy here forgot to bring his glasses outside with him, now I am desperately searching for the right page. Everything is blurry I can't see a thing. I am not turning around and leaving here after everything I have been through just to get here. He flips a page and I point. A yellow piece of paper marks where the visa is and the paper flutters. "Here it is." I am sweating under my coat. Colin is shivering. The cop looks at the visa and reluctantly nods. "What do you do in China?" I tell him I am a teacher and Colin is my student. He looks at me with suspicion. "A teacher? When you come to China? From where are you? Why you come to China? Why are you here in Xinjiang?" Colin explains to him who I am and that I teach in Wuxi. "Wait here," he says and leaves with my passport.
We're standing in the cold and Colin says, "I need to take a lake. "
I need to too. We crossed the street and climbed into a snow bank and pee.
On our way back, we stop at the check point tent to retrieve my passport. The cop looks up from the desk and asks me how long will I be in Yining. "I don't know." The cop gives me a blank stare. Somehow that is not the right answer. So I say, I would like to be here twenty days. He says nothing, Other policemen were watching me, their hands on their machine guns. He hands the passport back to me and tells Colin to tell me that when we arrive to town I must go to the police station and register. I say I can do that. We thank him and leave. Back on the bus, I feel uneasy. The door closes and the bus driver starts the engine. It startles me.

I step off the train on to the platform in Urumqi, sighing. My muscles ache. The icy air feels good, biting, refreshing upon my face. Colin grabs me and we walk briskly to the exit. Colin keeps telling me, "Watch out, be careful! There are a lot of bad men here they will theft you. Keep your thing to close for you, by your self. I'm not kidding! You will see!" We reach the exit gates. "Hurry. We must go." Exhaustion heightens my paranoia so I switch the backpack from my back to my front. Colin had my other bag along with his. Like waves off the shore. we smash into the crowd through the gates, out into the city. Light snow is falling, it's dusk. People are everywhere all in a hurry. Everyone moving in every direction. A flood of people spill into the streets colliding into hundreds people waiting for their arrival on the other side of the barrier. Cab drivers, thieves, and beggars, converge upon us like a school of piranha. Everyone talking at us all at once. It's confusing. Touching, breathing, grabbing at the bags, Colin says, "This way, now!" He turns and says something very quickly to two bearded men in light faux leather jackets, who are attempting to take our bags. They hesitate and back off. They stare at me. I don't look back. For a moment I feel strange, alone, uncomfortable. We wind our way through the crowded street over the ice to find a cab and head off to the bus station. I'm starving. Colin says, "There are many delicious foods here. Do you like eating sheeps meat? Are you hungry? We must eat before we take the bus. It is a long way maybe fifteen hours, a lot of snow on zhis ground." The cab driver says something to me in Uyghur (Weegar). He stops in front of the bus station and lets us out. We climb over a snow barrier and head off to buy tickets for the night ride to Yining.
In retrospect, now that I am sitting here in the warm comfort of my apartment, I feel, maybe, I let the moment slip by me too quickly. I am on the edge of the knife here. I can feel the tension. Yet there is no time to savor all the sights, sounds and smells. There is no time to take pictures. I passed up many opportunities this trip to document what I saw. Sometimes that happens. I had to keep moving. Colin tells me there will be time to rest when we get to Yining. He is twenty. He forgets I am older and maybe a step slower.Time to man up. Things are now down to minutes. Now, we are moment to moment, minute to minute. Intense. I walk fast trying to keep up with Colin as he makes a bee line to the bus station. He is on a mission. I am just along for the ride.
The bus station is wretched. Sawdust covers the floor. Everyone looks disheveled and beat. Sweaty people smells fill the air. Cigarette smoke mingles with bad breath. People are yelling in ten different languages. It all sounds like static. People are tired. They are tense. It's crowded and stuffy. It's never a matter of wanting to take the bus, it's always about needing to. Comfort is never an option. These people know it, accept it. They stand in a line resigned, waiting for their turn to buy a ticket. Colin buys our tickets and then says, " let us eat." Great! I'm starving!
I left Wuxi with a bit of a stomach bug and now I am needing to fill the beast up. I am hoping to get through the ride before I need the bathroom again. I never learned to squat and now is not the time. It's a damn uncomfortable feeling. But I don't care I am up for delicious sheeps meat and rice. We head on over to Colins favorite Uyghur restaurant across from the bus station. We walk in and all stare at us. I thought for a moment I was back in the middle east. These people could be my long lost relatives! I am being sized up. Colin pays no never mind and begins to order in Urgar. He orders noodles and meat with vegetables. He orders the rice for me. Things then got complicated. The rice came with sheep meat and veggies but it was dry, no sauce. I wanted what Colin had which was noodles with meat and veggies in a tomato sauce that looked more delicious. So I ordered one of his. I couldn't order just the veggies and sauce I have to order the whole plate. He took the noodles I took the vegetables with tomatoes. I liked it so much I had two! Did I mention I was hungry. When we finished we took off to the bus station to wait for our bus.
The place was packed. People heading out for the holidays. Boxes and bags heaped upon the chairs with their owners heaped along side them. We all looked like we had already been some place else and this was the last leg. It felt like the last leg. Now I am full and tired and I'm thinking a quiet bus ride on plush seats, get to watch TV... so says Colin, I am almost looking forward to the trip. Our bus is called we rush to the gate, every one rushes all the time even if they know they are not going anywhere. We wait, and wait, the bus is late, snow is falling. My bags feel like giant bricks. They open the gate and we rush, again to the bus. I step up and whoa! What is this? Cots, Three rows... Oh no, It's a SLEEPER BUS!!! This is not my idea of plush. To make matters worse Colin says, "the bus is dirty." Great... just wonderful... can't wait... geeze... so much for comfort.
Now, all that just seems like a dream. Gone, history, done is done. I wake up. The clock on the bus says eight. We roll to a stop. We are on the outskirts of Yining at the check point. Oh man! we made it!! We are finally here. The journey is over. I can relax. I am excited. No more travel for a while. I feel relived. Colin wakes up and announces we are here. The bus door opens. Colin tells me to give him my passport. He heads to the front and comes back. A moment later, a policeman enters the bus, points his finger at me and says "Steven, Steven, Come with me."

I thought I woke up in the middle of the night but the time on the bus clock said 5:11. 5:11, is that possible? It's so dark. I tilt my head which started a stabbing pain just below my shoulder joint. I see the side of a mountain shrouded in fog. The bus picks up speed and the bus fishtails pulling itself around a corner. I grip the bed rail, tight, the bus tilts my way. I prop myself up enough to see to the front of the bus and I see nothing but fog in the headlights, thick, soupy fog. We fishtail again and the bus makes another hairpin turn. I don't know how fast we are going. I lay back down. I have a headache. Headlights appear out of the fog and it's an eighteen wheeler grinding it's way up the mountain. We pass each other with little room to spare. So close I thought, I can't look. So I close my eyes. My legs hurt. My eyes burn. Someone lights up a cigarette again and the smoke wafts it's way through the bus, and in to my lungs. I want to scream, "some one, put that F'ing cigarette out!! It's disgusting you're disgusting! I've had enough! Get me off this bus!!" I want to curse like a New Yorker. What the __ you __ing __! put the __ing cigarette out already! It's bad enough to smell it outside but smoking in enclosed spaces is mind numbing. To think there are no restrictions to smoking anywhere in China. Everyone who smokes lights up anywhere anytime. It is considered, social and appropriate. Bad enough to light up in a drafty bus but to tolerate this for over forty hours on a sealed train car with the only ventilation at either end of the car where they are coupled is beyond words. It is one of those cultural behaviors I have a hard time coming to grips with. Every fifteen, twenty minutes someone would light up at either end of the car and the air would thicken with the noxious gas. Once in a while several smokers, usually young men would light up, savoring every draw off their stick. They slowly inhale, looking very Dean like, then exhale, their faces disappearing behind a dense impenetrable fog, that eventually drifts apart and snakes it's way down the train corridor, only to be inhaled again by everyone else. Baby faces these boys, acting like men, acting cool, smoking because they can. Smoke it to the butt, fingers stained brown. Seeing them, I see me many years ago. Now I think, and then I stop. Three hours to go. It must be. We're getting close. The fog is lifting. I fall asleep head pounding, thinking about fresh air.

Jolting up. My eyes are wide. Was it a dream I was having or am I really...where we are? The bus pitches back and forth. Ice pops and snaps beneath the weight of the bus. The bus jerks forward tires catching some traction, twisting across the ice. The engine whines but the sound of rubber slipping and scraping across the ice drown the sound out. The driver shifts down and the bus floats for a moment. He is hell bent. I must have been asleep. It's hard to tell at the moment. Colin and I have been traveling now about forty eight hours and I thought I was still on the train to Urumqi. Forty eight hours ago we were boarding a train in Wuxi. Colin worries that the train ride will be very hard for me because I only had a standing room only ticket and Colin had a seat. In retrospect, I now know what he is talking about but didn't understand the consequences of his words. I do now. This time though I left it up to the higher powers to do the right thing and they came up with a compromise. I told Colin before we left that everything will work out the way it needs to. There has to be something said for blissful ignorance. Sometimes you just get lucky. We were hoping for a chance to talk to one of the conductors about upgrading to a sleeper berth so that I could ride the trip out in relative style. Colins worries about me subside for a moment as we are standing on the platform and our car pulls up. Sleepers! Oh how serendipitous! We climb aboard and realize they are using the sleepers as seats and standing room stills applies. People pour on the train like ants to the colony. We get to our berth and Colin tells me to sit. So I sit. The car fills up. People are standing. I think that ought to be me. The train conductor comes by to check tickets and as she examines mine, Colin explains I am his foreign language teacher on my way with him to visit his family for the holidays and asks her to allow me to sit with him. She looks at me, at Colin, hands my ticket back to me and leaves. I climb into the corner of the bottom bunk and relax. Six more people show up and sit with us five women and another man. Our baggage is stored up and under anywhere there is space because during the holidays everyone leaves for extended periods of time and bring with them a lot of luggage. Luggage space is a premium. Anywhere out of the aisle is fair game. I think about that now, much, much later as our bus threatens to careen out of control on a mountain pass three hours outside of Urumqi. I think, how spacious those bunks are now compared to my current lot. Trapped on the top bunk at the back of a sleeper bus. Alice is having a nightmare in Wonderland. Three rows of beds stacked two high, with the top bunks less than half a meter from the top. To get to the top bunk, I had to jump in a prone position. The isles were less than a shoulders width so you had to walk sideways. Tight would be a polite term. The bed is a wood plank with a thin layer of cotton batting covering with a cotton comforter to curl up in, mummy style. The beds are just shy of being long enough for comfort. I stuck my camera bag underneath my knees so that I could fit my feet into the a hole that the top serves as a pillow for the person in front of me. Lying flat is the only option though the bed is shoulder width shy. I stick out over my accommodations. The bed rail drives into my side every time the bus bounces, which is often. No, I am not on the train now. I thought I was. I keep drifting in and out of real time. No, I am on a bus. Exhaustion keeps me from panicking. I am trapped. I am, trapped! I am cornered and no way to escape. Breathe... breathe. I think the roof is closing in on me. The bus is shrinking! I turn my head and peer out the window encased with ice on the inside. Outside, a deep night blue sky caresses snow cover upon the mountain peak. Stars are shining. The wind gently whips snow dust up around us. Snap! pop! The engine screams, grinding gears. It's very cold. The bus continues it's crazy dance across the pass. Ten hours to go. Our destination, Yining, on the Ili River. I go back to dreaming. Sometimes, you do get lucky.