long journey

I looked around the bookstore. I noticed “Das Kapital” by Karl Marx on the shelf written in Chinese.

“He is here,” Zhou said.

I turned around and stood up.  He is a tall, thin pale man. He looked at me and smiled.  After greeting Zhou, my translator, and me, he told us that there was too many people in that bookstore. He told us we should leave.

I gathered my things and started following him.  Neither one of us knew where he would take us. I decided to take my chances. I knew he would a good source for my story. I wondered if he was afraid of talking about sensitive topic to a complete stranger in a public place. I wanted to ask, but I reminded quiet.

The three of us walked out of the famous thinker’s bookstore located in the south gate in Peking University. We walked for a couple of blocks. Wee were quiet for the most part. I tried talk to him through my translator, but he didn’t seem too receptive.  After a couple of minutes he told us to stop.  He looked around and finally told us to follow him.

He walked into a colorful teahouse.  We followed closely.  The teahouse was impressive, full of color and Chinese music.  I was relived to see that he wanted to talk in a public space. I was relived to see that he didn’t go to a remote place.

He walked over the front desk and talked to the waitress. She smiled and told us to follow her.  We walked across the room.  As we walked more and more, there were less people and the beautiful decoration from the teahouse started to disappear.  I felt nervous.  We finally stopped.  We walked into an empty room in the back of the teahouse.  We sat down and as I took my recorder out the waitress brought me a cup of lemon tea.  She then looked ad me and walked away.

….long journey to a long interview.

The cab ride back to the hotel was even scarier. But I will save that for later.