Not having stood firm after getting off the train, I was bumped by a fat man. It was obviously an intentional bump. I almost fell to the ground. I quickly regained my balance and simultaneously found I lost a bag. I shouted at the people on the platform: “My bag is gone. Someone has stolen my bag. Someone has stolen my bag. ” But the others around me gazed at me blankly, the same way dumb animals gazed at a human being. I gave up. This was my first time to Luoyang. The incident darkened the rainy day and ,what is worse, my first impression of Luoyang in my memory.
Then, I got on an old bus, firmly clutching my other bag vigilantly, in order not to encounter the same disaster. People on the bus were speaking with a robust Henan accent, which was hard to understand and unpleasant to hear. I looked out of the window. The rain was unabated, which made the dirty streets terribly muddy. Sides of the street were lined with ever green trees that looked unkempt and not very green. Shops seemed drably decorated. Slogans promoted on the walls or boards were out of date. Roads were gray, house were gray. And they were in harmony with the gray sky.
Seeing this, I couldn’t help thinking of what my friends had said when they saw me off.
“Luoyang is very beautiful, flowers are everywhere.”
“Luoyang is very famous for its tourist trade. You will have a good time there.”
“People of Louyang are simple and honest. They are not city slickers.”
Are the people really simple? Is the city really beautiful? Maybe it is. But if it remains like this, unsafe and dirty, as what I saw, the city with an ancient civilization will quickly degenerate into slums, and its prosperous tourist trade will become a thing of the past.