8月2日

Editors’ Notes:

General Secretary Xi Jinping encouraged the youth to “Measure the vast land of the motherland with footsteps, discover the Chinese spirit with eyes, listen to the people’s voices with ears, feel the pulse of the times with hearts, and integrate the deep bond with the motherland and shared destiny with the people throughout students’ studies and career pursuits.” During the summer of 2023, teachers and students from the School of Language and Communication Studies embarked on a social practice journey. In the name of youth, they traveled to the snow-capped plateau. By train, they visited alumni, engaged with local communities, witnessed development, and pursued dreams. They experienced the spirit behind the construction of the Qinghai-Xizang Railway, strengthened their ideals and beliefs in “letting the flowers of youth bloom where the motherland needs them most,” and told the Chinese story of “The Sky Road connecting Beijing and Lhasa.” This series of image-text post is jointly presented by the Beijing Jiaotong University “Tell China’s Stories Well” Media Convergence Studio and China News Services, showcasing the sights, feelings, and thoughts of BJTU youth traveling along the Qinghai-Xizang Line and sharing the touching stories discovered during their practice.

The Qinghai-Xizang Railway is a poem connecting Beijing and Lhasa

On the evening of July 19th, the green train stood quietly at Beijing West Station, its roof painted gold by the gentle glow of the setting sun. Outside the windows, clouds drifted and twilight hues spread boundlessly; inside, passengers chatted warmly in a lively murmur. As the train began to roll slowly, we were overwhelmed by excitement mingled with curiosity. We watched towering city buildings swiftly recede and wide, fertile countryside sweep into view. This journey to the Qinghai–Xizang Plateau had begun, right here from Beijing. Clack‑clack, with poetry in our hearts, we traveled toward the distant horizon.

I set down my luggage, leaning against the window to gaze at the towering buildings beyond the station, pondering the purpose of this journey. A long railway connects Beijing and Lhasa, like an extended poem. The poem opens from a hutong shaded by lush Chinese scholar trees. It unfolds through its rising, sustaining, turning, and concluding cadence, passes by fields of alpine daisies, and ends with a pure white cloud—a cloud carried all the way from the high plateau.

This is a poem written upon the earth.

As a student of Beijing Jiaotong University, named for “transportation” in English, what does transportation truly represent? I had long yearned to see the Qinghai-Xizang Railway, yet when I first stepped onto “The Sky Road”, my heart still surged with excitement. As one of China’s Four Great Engineering Projects of the new century, it is the first railway into the heart of Xizang, and also the world’s highest and longest plateau railway. I recall classmates from related disciplines discussing how to excavate longer tunnels, how to make trains faster and faster. Every detail underscores the immense hardship of constructing this railway and the profound significance behind overcoming such challenges. What moved me most was witnessing this remarkable feat unfold across my homeland’s vast landscape.

Just then, the song Sky Road began playing in my headphones. “It is a magical sky road, carrying the warmth of the motherland to the frontier. From now mountains are no longer high, roads no longer long, and children of all ethnic groups gather together in joy.” The winds of Beijing thus blew to Lhasa. The songs of Lhasa thus drifted to Beijing.

This is a poem written upon the rails.

The train pulled out of Beijing, crossing the North China Plain and passing villages where cooking smoke rose in slender wisps. Along the way, we saw several freight trains speeding by in the opposite direction. Though I couldn’t tell what they were carrying, just from the sound of their rush, I could vividly feel the meaning of the character “交通” etched on our school emblem. As this steel dragon charged through steep mountains and vast deserts, it was impossible not to think of those who came before us, and those still today, they all cut paths through hills and bridged rivers wherever they met them.

This is a poem written on the plateau.

Infinite distances await our response. The next day, passing through Zhongwei, we reached our first destination, the Loess Plateau. I saw with my own eyes the “land of countless ravines” described in textbooks, but it had turned green. This was not the yellow‑sand‑filled landscape I had imagined. Instead, green grass climbed up every slope, and along the border between yellow earth and grassland, low shrubs and fresh blades held tight to the soil. Occasionally, a few Mongolian gazelles can be seen hiding in the gullies and grazing leisurely.

Though I’d read about the Loess Plateau’s restoration efforts, and gained some understanding about “Grain-for-Green Program” and “Small Watershed Management”, I was profoundly moved by the sight before me. American journalist Edgar Snow once described the Loess Plateau as “the least hospitable place for human survival.” Because it is one of the cradles of Chinese civilization, through generations of tireless effort, this land has been meticulously preserved and transformed into the lucid waters and lush mountains we cherish.

Travel Notes:

July 20th

We have now reached Ningxia. This marks my first journey into the western regions, an experience filled with wonder. Before falling asleep last night, all I saw outside were tree‑lined stretches along the railway. When I woke and looked out again this morning, endless desert plains stretched before me. Yellow River and the loess soil have nurtured the yellow‑skinned Chinese people. Wherever my gaze falls now, there is yellow earth, yellow sand mountains, and the yellow‑flowing river.

As we journeyed forward, gazing out along the way, we saw people laboring. Their arms were sturdy, their skin darkened by the sun. These were marks of their labor. Here, these individuals stand as witnesses to history amid the yellow sands, observing the profound changes of the loess land and the unending miracle of life that persists through time.

Board the Train to Lhasa

I woke up from my sleep to the cheers of tourists admiring the scenery outside the window. The train rumbled along, passing a few villages occasionally. The houses here were all made of red bricks and earth walls, and the surrounding cornfields also bore witness to the traces of the local residents.

The corn and wheat here ripen at the same time. The corn was still slightly green, while the wheat was already ready for harvest. In the wheat fields the train passed by, local farmers, accompanied by their families, drove tricycles to the fields, some spraying pesticides, some harvesting wheat.

Here, corn and wheat mature simultaneously. While the corn still holds a hint of green, the wheat is ripe for harvest. In the wheat fields the train traverses, local farmers drive their three-wheeled carts to the fields with their families in tow, spraying pesticides and reaping the grain.

The view from the train window was frequently interrupted by small hills. Observing the rock-catching nets on the slopes flanking the tracks, it was clear this section of the line through Ningxia had required extensive mountain-cutting and tunnel-boring It was a labor-intensive, and time-consuming endeavor. Three generations of railway soldiers, three generations of railway workers devoted their lifetime to the work. Their sacrifices and dedication have earned extensive, convenient transportation network today.

We arrived at Lanzhou Station at noon. During the brief stop, we got off to clean the windows.

By 3 PM, we reached Xining Station. With a 25-minute layover, everyone seized the chance to polish the train windows to a mirror shine. Passengers disembarked to take photos with the “Nyingchi Express” emblem and stretched out a banner signed by many for a group shot.

After passing Xining, we glimpsed Qinghai Lake. Its water was vivid blue. There were also flocks of sheep by the lakeside. At 5:40 PM, we entered the Guanjiao Railway Tunnel, emerging at 5:57 PM to views of rolling hills, grasslands, Gobi desert, and sand dunes. Snow-capped mountains remain unseen thus far.

——Guo Xiaoyan

Thus we journeyed westward, climbing steadily, with the emotions of weariness, exhilaration, joy, and expectation… The scenery outside the window shifted ceaselessly as altitude rose. Upon this track linking the ancient capital with the plateau’s jewel, our hearts brimmed with anticipation for discovery. The coming days would grant us time to savor this poem. We beheld city neon lights and heard distant wind chimes…

y Du Jinxian