And Then It Snowed ... Chapter 5

Tuesday morning emerged from the dark, bringing brilliant sunshine and crystal-clear skies. The air was crisp. Free from pollution. As much as we were enjoying being ‘forced’ to stay in the village, we needed to get back to work. Three out of four of us being teachers. As it was, due to circumstances beyond our control, we had missed two days of school already. Mr. Chen continued believing that the army was on its way. That they would clear the roads. With excited gestures, he insisted that help would arrive in the next few hours.  We waited. He smiled. We finished our supply of hot chocolate. Mr. Chen smiled. Brett shared his only concern. That of dealing with three women and no coffee ….

After lunch, with our bellies full and eyelids heavy, the unfamiliar serious tone of our landlord’s usually light-hearted voice, bellowed through the door. Mr. Chen spoke to Debbie. Her fluency in Chinese proved invaluable. He explained that as the village lay in Hebei Province, and not in the Beijing municipal area, the authorities were actually not that interested in getting there any time soon. It was not regarded a priority area. One could feel his sadness and despondency at their response. No doubt, this attitude of the authorities had often affected other areas of their lives in that village. He told us that if we wanted to leave that day, we would have to walk the three kilometres to the army camp. Before sunset. A car would be waiting there to take us to the highway. He had stopped smiling. 

With apprehension wrapping her arms tightly around us, we began walking in the deep snow. Attempting to dodge the patches of the dangerously slippery ice. Falling on those treacherous surfaces was never an option. Walking two-by-two, with Themba securely tucked up on Brett’s shoulders, we negotiated the intense obstacle course Mother Nature had created. Apart from being anxious, due to the sun rapidly descending, it was a surreal experience. Four foreigners and a dog plodding along in nowhere-land with snow-covered majestic mountains looming over us on either side. The warmth of the sun dissipated whilst the shadows grew longer. An almost mystical aura enveloped us as the trees performed supernatural dances against the white isolated landscape. We trudged on spellbound.

Long periods of silence punctuated by moments of nervous laughter and bad jokes accompanied us. Dusk began to creep in and around us.  Anxiety grew as we reached the point of no return.  During moments such as those, one asks, “Why did we decide to do this?” “Why didn’t we just stay home and be normal?” The answers came with the silence of the snow. The magnificence of the mountains. The bond of togetherness. Sharing in an extremely authentic journey. One which taught us about other cultures and more importantly, about other people. For to travel is to be educated.

The sight of the army camp appeared. Relief filled our every cell. The promised car was not there. There was no choice but to stand and wait in the icy temperatures that had embraced us. And to keep Themba from displaying his huge ego whilst barking at the armed guards. Heaven only knows what thoughts raced through their minds, amidst nervous giggles escaping their winter headgear.

The sound of an approaching car’s engine broke the silence. Relief and gratitude were profoundly deep. Unbeknown to us, exhaustion had crept in amongst the waves of exhilaration. Humans and Themba alike snuggled into the seats of none other than a Beijing taxi. Within two hours, we found ourselves in peak hour traffic in the heart of Beijing. Bewildered and wondering if what we had experienced in those mountains had been real. On returning to normality, experiences such as being snowed in, in an extremely mountainous region, in a foreign country, can often leave a great big empty void in one’s being. Time is then needed to be still. To reflect upon what was definitely one of Life’s more enriching encounters.