Every morning, I crossed a stretch of railway tracks on the way to my school. The tracks lay less than a hundred meters from the school gate, and a train often appeared in the late afternoon just as we were discharged. Sometimes it was a freight train piled high with lumber or coal. It would be gliding along, clink clank, clink clank, at low speed because it was getting near its destination. Not far beyond the road bend was a timber mill and a coal plant, where logs and the coal would be unloaded for processing and distribution. There was also a brick factory near the river. Some of my classmates’ parents worked in those plants.
torsdag 14. november 2024
Trains: A Chinese Family History of Railway Journeys, Exile, and Survival
I liked trains as a child. Beijing Railway Station, a Soviet-style landmark constructed in 1959—the year I was born—was just two bus stops southwest of our apartment. Beijing had few tall buildings then, so we enjoyed an unobstructed view of the station from our balcony. On a clear day, it looked postcard-perfect with the elegant twin clock towers carved into the blue sky.
Every morning, I crossed a stretch of railway tracks on the way to my school. The tracks lay less than a hundred meters from the school gate, and a train often appeared in the late afternoon just as we were discharged. Sometimes it was a freight train piled high with lumber or coal. It would be gliding along, clink clank, clink clank, at low speed because it was getting near its destination. Not far beyond the road bend was a timber mill and a coal plant, where logs and the coal would be unloaded for processing and distribution. There was also a brick factory near the river. Some of my classmates’ parents worked in those plants.
Every morning, I crossed a stretch of railway tracks on the way to my school. The tracks lay less than a hundred meters from the school gate, and a train often appeared in the late afternoon just as we were discharged. Sometimes it was a freight train piled high with lumber or coal. It would be gliding along, clink clank, clink clank, at low speed because it was getting near its destination. Not far beyond the road bend was a timber mill and a coal plant, where logs and the coal would be unloaded for processing and distribution. There was also a brick factory near the river. Some of my classmates’ parents worked in those plants.
