PRC - Day 42 - Pomi 波? - Arrested by PSB

Mixed weather

We got up early and had a most wonderful breakfast of a sort of long doughnut which you dipped in warm, sweet milk - not a grain of rice in sight - bliss!

However, the day was quickly to sour.  As we were finishing breakfast a man from the Public Security Bureau (PSB), ie the police, came in and asked to see our papers.  We did not know what a permit to travel in Tibet would look like, as in, was it a stamp in your passport or a piece of paper, so we played a bit dumb, not wanting to show anything.

We were escorted to the police station where we were told we were in town illegally.  They fetched a guy who was the local school's English teacher to translate.  His English was so-so, but he seemed to relish interrogating us.  It seemed they wanted each of us to pay Y100 as a fine.  We were not sure if we were actually illegal or they wee just trying to extort money from us.  Our concerns were threefold - 1) we did not want sending back to Yunnan and having to go all the way around to Lhasa; 2) we didn't want them to ruin or confiscate any photographic films we had taken of our trip, especially those of the day before and the fabulous views we'd taken on the way here; 3) xxx 

We decided to stall for time, mainly to see if it was going to be a real fine or whether the money was just destined for someone's back pocket...  Our story was we had come from Lhasa, which was where our passports were in the Nepalese Embassy awaiting visas so we could travel on to the Nepalese border once we returned there.  We were merely killing a few days by taking this side trip as we waited for the paperwork to be processed and we also insisted that the government tourist department in Lhasa had said we were okay to come here as we waited.  This we hoped would at least would solve problem one, that of being sent back to Yunnan.

Then they wanted to remove the film from Mike & John's cameras which they had on them.  Luckily for me I'd left mine in my backpack and I told them I did not have one or that it was broken, hoping and praying they would not later want to search our belongings.  We refused to let them open the cameras and said they should contact their superiors and/or the British Embassy.

Eventually, they could waste no more of their lunch break on us and we were told to report back at 3:30pm and we were let free in the little town.

It was a relief to be out of the police station for a while, but still very stressful.  "Character building," Mike called it.

We decided it would be wise to get our bags ready so that if we were allowed to go, which we still thought a good possibility, we could quickly get to the edge of town and see if we could hitch a ride to the next little village, at least, where there would be no authorities.  We hung around for three hours for the reception lady to come back and let us into our rooms and I hid my camera and all our films in some bushes just in case things didn't go well and then we could later sneak back and get them at night.

Back at the station at 3:30pm things seemed calmer.  The questions had stopped and one guy was shouting into a CB radio contraption at the top of his voice while we sat at the other side of the room.  This went on for almost an hour with his only reply being static to the point where it was quite comical to us, but we tried to be respectful and not giggle.

Eventually, they gave up and through the teacher/interpreter, who could hardly keep a straight face himself as he said the words, told us they had contacted their superiors who said we were to report to them at another town further (back) down the road and we were free to go. The other's camera equipment was then returned untouched.

This was face saving for them at it's most blatant, as they had not even taken our names or nationalities, but was a huge relief.  Having said that, where else were we going to go? - there was only one road...

We grabbed our bags, retrieved our stash from the bushes and walked to the edge of town, but by this time it was 6pm and no-one was going anywhere as it would soon be dark.

At 6:30pm the teacher/interpreter/interrogator who was far from our favourite person in the world right then from giving us quite a hard time at the station rode along on his bicycle and started going on about making big money with Chinese herbs.  It was a little surreal.

We just wanted him to go away and were somewhat aloof at first, but his attitude was very different now we were away from the authorities and his friend soon turned up who was a jolly little fellow who invited us back to their quarters for some food.  Realising the hopelessness of our situation as it got dark and we had no lodgings and no hope of a lift out of town, we went with them and it turned out to be a most unexpected evening.

Without every apologising for being harsh on us in the station, we were made very aware of his feelings towards the PSB and that the "interrogation" he has given us was not from his heart, but just playing his role in this little community.

Both guys were teachers a the local school and were Han Chinese who had been appointed to their posts in this god-forsaken wilderness by the government.  Neither of them liked Bomi, but they had little choice but to stay for a three year contract, however upon completion, it opened up all sorts of doors for them, basically allowing them to choose where they wanted to live and work anywhere in China.  Their jobs seemed quite difficult as they explained the local Tibetans hated school and especially learning English.

They earned Y300 a month, but insisted and paying for what was quite a banquet including all our drinks, which must have been at least Y30.

The menu was probably not quite what we would have chosen ourselves, and John was more than a little squeamish, but Mike and I gamely picked away at the dishes before eventually asking what they were.

We wished we had remained ignorant.  Our esteemed teachers had bought for us

MENU

A cold dish of pig's liver & chilies

Fried pig's intestine & chilies

Chilies, with small chilies & mixed 
with another type of chili (quite spicy this one)

Shredded fried potato with a little chili

Boiled rice

Beer

Jasmine tea

Full, the teachers helped us find somewhere to sleep for the night and promised to help us the next day to find a lift out of town.

Then to cap off a very strange day we went to a little street stall, the only place still open, and there standing resplendent on the top shelf was a jar of Nescafe.  It was just so out of place as we hadn’t seen anything western for so long, and nowhere had served coffee since Dali, but here was this jar sort of glowing and shining with pride of place on the centre of the top shelf.

We had to buy it.

Wherever we stayed all throughout China, even in the most rural of places you are given a large, gaudy thermos of boiled water to drink, so we were able to make our own coffee in our room and spent the next few hours savouring it, smoking and discussing our strange, strange day.