July 27: Suzhou

The next day (today), I awoke early and promptly fell back asleep. Getting up for real (some time later), I showered and took care of other personal matters. In Suzhou, toilet paper seems destined for the wastepaper basket after use, and not into the toilets. I went across the street for an accidental breakfast of Mochi, given that the other things I ordered were not being served, and the “Suzhou Special” is in fact, Mochi with some sort of paste in the middle.

Back at the hostel, I checked my mail by temporarily borrowing the computer from a traveler planning his next jaunt. When I saw the Input Method he was using, I realized he was Japanese, and so we chatted a bit in Japanese (he seemed pleased). With all the Chinese I’m learning, my Japanese took more thought than usual, and many natural expressions I know in both languages were in some sort of hybrid language. It doesn’t help that Chinese tends to be an SVO (subject-verb-object) language like English, so its syntax is a little more intuitive, and Japanese is SOV.

I also met Helen, a Vietnamese Englishwoman who had had a miserable experience at another hostel in Suzhou, and was currently she was afraid she had caught rabies from a cat’s scratch. I tried to console her, but failed epically at calming her. She had a lot going on, but was rather intense and angry, and irrationally fearful of the other hostel’s owner. Although I’m sure there’s a another side to her story, she did sound rather put upon. Nevertheless, I was glad to get away from her, at her urging, when she recommended I visit a garden on my own. I found the “Humble Administrator’s Garden” which was anything but “humble.” It’s a World Heritage Site, but I wasn’t terribly impressed; Japan has spoiled me. Even the interesting rock formations were disappointing: merely smaller rocks cemented together.

At the garden, two boys (probably about 6 and 9 years old) walked by and told me in big voices “hel-lo!” and when I “nihao’d” them back, they turned in their tracks and dumbfoundedly asked me “ni hui shuo zhong wen ma?” we shared introductions, shook hands, and they walked off, leaving me with a smile. Later, a young man asked me if he could take his picture with me. I of course accepted, and got a picture with him in turn.

So, I wandered off in search of a pipa for my dad. After wandering, I returned to the historic street, where my hostel was, and visited the guqin tea shop. There I watched a few Guqin players (the guqin is a Chinese non-bridged zither, so is not the same thing as a Koto, that’s the guzheng) show off, then asked for help finding a pipa. After a short wait during which a man came to help (with his own pipa in his arms), we (one of the shopkeepers, he, and I) headed downtown. There, I debated buying a beautiful, but obviously machine built pipa, and finally did so for 1600 kuai (the higher end model with cow horn frets and tuning pegs was 3500 kuai, more than I had on me and was willing to spend). I also had the opportunity to make a screeching noise on an Erhu, reminding me of my violin lessons, and watch the shopkeeper break a bow on the same instrument. Then we headed back with my new treasure, plus extra strings and plecktra.

Once back, I stored the pipa behind the desk and visited a coffee shop on the canal to write a few postcards, and headed to the hostel in the rain. Back inside I met the Danish duo Anne and Sophie, also veterans of the Trans-Siberian Railway, and I gave them some travelling hints, at least regarding Hangzhou and booking tickets. Then we went to dinner, heading for the same noodle shop I went to last night, getting lost, and finding another where a kind Irishman helped us order something tasty.

We walked back in the rain, discussing Danish and German, music and culture, and who was the butt of whose cultural jokes. I returned to the café where I currently am, to write these entries, and was later joined by Anne and Sophie. We chatted about school, home, and using Facebook, shared emails, and they went to bed (they will be followed soon by me).

Oh, I’ve spent a lot of time petting Chuxiang (spelling incorrect, but named after a famous Chinese beauty from history), the golden retriever, who is as unfriendly and vicious as you’d expect a golden to be (cue sarcasm). Actually she’s sweet and lazy most of the day, and rather larger than a passing Japanese couple expected. Plus she found my shoes fascinating.

Gute nacht.

Phrase of the day: Jag taler ike Dansk (I don’t speak Danish)