Trouble at the Border

Ji'an on the Yalu River

Every year,  teachers from all over China converged on the publishing company, to compete  for  all-expenses-paid study courses in the UK. The examination papers were prepared in great secrecy, and for this reason a contingent of Chinese employees were sent to Ji'an, a town on the Yalu river, which forms the border between Northeast China and North Korea. At short notice, my English colleague Katharine had been despatched a week before and I followed with another colleague, elderly American Joseph, a few days later.  

 

I'd felt sorry for Katharine having been told only the night before that she was to go to Ji'an. Joseph and I received half an hour's notice. It was the first chance I'd had to get to know him. After the flurry of leaving, it didn't occur to me that anything untoward would happen on the journey.

'Driver Wang was still smarting from the sudden decision and impromptu departure  Having been told to go to Ji'an earlier in the day, he had driven an hour along the road until somebody thought to ring him to ask if he had collected the ‘cargo’: Joseph and myself. He hadn’t, so he'd come back, none too pleased, especially when he had to wait while we packed.

The sunny two-hour hour drive passed pleasantly enough, Joseph entertaining me with stories of events that had occurred the previous year.  We were travelling deeper into the mountains along a wide, winding road with banks of yellow and purple flowers on either side. The area seemed  uninhabited and we saw only an occasional truck coming in the opposite direction. I discovered Joseph was an ‘Old China Hand’, having been in the country for five years.

After an hour or so we reached a place with an arch over the road, similar to the one at Tonghua.  Chinese character proclaimed ‘Welcome to Ji’an’. As the car slowed to pass a roadside chalet however, two soldiers stepped out, and waved their rifles.

I suddenly remembered an entry in the sole guide book I found that mentioned Tonghua. It said the city was a ‘jumping off point’ for a journey to a sacred mountain in disputed border territory between China and Korea. Tourists were specifically warned not to wander about near the border, as the guards were ‘twitchy’ enough to arrest people who had strayed too far. Although fifty miles from the foothills surrounding Tonghua, surely we were nowhere near the sacred mountain?
After the initial alarm and flurry of climbing from the car and being directed to stand inside the chalet, everything slowed down. We were sheltered from the sun under the roof of the chalet, which was open on three sides, and contained a desk and chair.

The guards began an earnest discussion with the  driver, about the purpose of our visit. The three fresh-faced youths were not at all threatening, despite their serious expressions. What little natural authority they had, derived mainly from the rifles, was undermined by their crumpled, ill-fitting clothing and rosy cheeks. The baggy green uniforms seemed to be standard issue for members of what is still known as the PLA, or Peoples’ Liberation Army.  I suspected the looseness was partly intended to make them look bigger, as they were all of the typical Dongbei  spindly build. I suppose, too, there was a policy of ‘one size fits all’ , on the ground of economy. '

 

Later, after we'd been released to join the other  employees at the hotel in town,  we learned why  the guards were so  jumpy : ancient relics had been discovered in local caves. The ownership of the territory was in dispute, and the guards were on special alert in case of border raids.

'I hear you had some trouble at the border,' said Katharine.  But we'd enjoyed warm hospitality and even been treated to a lunch of local  river fish  in a little  house (the guards had their own chef) when it was realised that there'd be a delay in checking our credentials. Our  boss was having his early afternoon nap and couldn't be disturbed.