Old School

First I tried to get a train ticket to Yellow Mountain. Apparently it's still Spring Festival and there are no sleepers available until Feb 21! It's also a 12 hour train ride (it didn't look that far on the map). There was a hard seat available, and a plane this evening (there's a flight once a week for ~$100), but I chose a different path. So I'm going to Hangzhou tomorrow, and from there will try to catch a bus or plane. The $3 commission at the ticket office for the guy who spoke English was the best $3 I ever spent. I can't imagine trying to keep my place in line at the train station while I tried to figure this out.

So on my "bucket list" was tea at Huxinting Teahouse next to the Yu Gardens in Old Shanghai. I had a map, but once in the Old Town it was useless. I had a little compass (I find these invaluable, especially coming up out of metro's, when my sense of direction has been completely scrambled). I kept heading south-ish, a little east-ish and then homed in on some fancy, traditional architecture. This put me in the baazar just west of the Yu Gardens. What a sensory overload. Jammed with people (think of a 4th of July crowd), jammed with stuff, every 10 feet a new store, floor-to-ceiling, front window-to-back wall, hanging from the ceiling - stuff. I was offered many fake watches (again). Turns out the teahouse is outside the gardens, but the zig-zag bridge (the angles keep evil spirits from following) was so packed, I elected for the gardens first. It was built by a son for his father...
About half-way through the gardens I just got tired. But I still had to hit the teahouse and then I planned on going to a Buddhist Temple with a really big, solid jade Buddha. I thought it would be a nice place to meditate. But being tired, the thought overwhelmed "I can't keep this up for three weeks." I thought what would I do at home? Rest. So I sat in the gardens between a pond and a bamboo grove and read a while. Feeling much better, I headed back to the teahouse.

Turns out the teahouse was mostly empty because the price of admission was a $10 pot of tea (to many of the locals I think this counts as a tourist rip-off (like buying a coke in Disneyland), but one I was happy to pay). I ordered some tea and sat back. I had a window seat on the second story. The tea was delicious. I spent a peaceful hour there, observing the people, reading, savoring each moment. Hey, a dream had just came true.

Huxinting Teahouse

Jasmin with chrysanthemum,
Spring breeze through window
overlooking water,
A laughing, beautiful woman,
and wind in leaves

The Buddhist Temple was an experience. I was met by a helpful guide. I was going to start negotiating, but decided on a price I thought fair. If he wasn't going to bring up cost, I could pay as I saw fit. Turns out my "guide," while very helpful - explaining the import of the statues - also led me into the gift shops. I had a nice conversation with a calligrapher who wanted to sell me a personalized message on some very nice silk for 800 yuan. (It really was a nice conversation, part English, part Mandarin on both sides.) I had no desire to buy anything, especially when clearly in a gift shop. By repeatedly declining, the price dropped to 500 yuan. I bargain best when I actually don't want something. Lesson there. (Also it indicated how much prices can drop in future haggles.)

But now I was trapped in my own personal drama, not wanting to buy anything, not wanting to offend (yes, this is my particular craziness). On just regular paper - still nice, but no silk - the price was 150 yuan. I had also mentioned my Chinese name, and the guy really liked it (no duh, but I think he was being genuine). And he was skilled, at least to the untrained eye. Even though I felt cajoled, and had caved, for $25 it was very nice (to my friends born in China: please don't roll your eyes). I didn't think to haggle a new price for the new commidity.

The drama continued...or rather, I continued the drama (why was I still following this guy? I figured I had made it through the pitch. In this, I severely underestimated them.). Another gift shop, another artist. This one was one of five in China who paints landscapes with his hand, literally finger-painting. Again, several 1000 yuan options for me. Me again being nice but declining instead of just walking out. Me eventually haggling a 300 yuan painting down to 190 yuan. The artist had just finished it, and of all the ones I had seen, it did really grab me, lots of negative space. Turns out it was of Yellow Mountain, where I was headed next. Semi-auspicious. Each of these artists, the calligrapher and the painter, were there volunteering in a sort of way: most of my purchase was going to maintain the charity work of the temple.

After resolutely refusing anything else (hah!) and walking out, he and I talked a little more openly. He seemed frustrated that I was worried about what amounted to $20: I was a rich foreigner. He explained that a montly salary of $5,000 (he pulled this number out of the air, but close to a starting engineer with a masters) was equivalent to two years salary of an average worker in China. There was an idea of a social contract violated: he expected the rich to give back (multiple lines were crossing here as it was a gift shop for a temple doing charity work). I, of course, was wary of being seen as a walking, leaky purse, and just hate gift shops on principle. We were both left partially frustrated, but hey, partially fulfilled as well. Now if they had just asked for a donation instead...

Now out $60 I hadn't planned on spending but somehow happy with what I had, but but of course beating myself up over the whole episode, I tried to find a place to meditate. Turns out a Buddhist Temple - the public areas at any rate - are for praying, not meditating. Who knew? In praying, you can stand or kneel. I was not planning on kneeling for 20 minutes. Plus the vibe was off for that sort of thing. Wandering, I found a small pond with koi and fake lotus. I sat on a bench, tried to let go of the tied-up feelings from the "shopping." Then I remembered that meditation is letting the feelings be, not trying to get rid of bad ones nor holding on to good ones

After a while, I opened my eyes. A very young man was sitting on the same bench, meditating as well. As I sat there, calm, monks and nuns passing by in quiet queues, a single large white koi swam close and suddenly leaped clear of the water.

I had a nice dinner at another vegetarian restaurant, this one decorated in slate with open wood beams in the ceiling. I really do love these restaurants. Having learned my lesson that the best faux meats involve something "fried," I got meatballs and fresh greens. It was really good and not at all hot. I then strolled down Nanjing Lu to catch the Shanghai Acrobats at Shanghai Center Theater. Of course there was no show tonight. I contemplated going back to Pudong, to one of the skyscraper viewing decks to see Shanghai at night, but I was tired and the thought of being up there alone made me lonely. Plus I had an early morning train to Hangzhou. I'm glad I came back - I reserved a hotel in Hangzhou and came up with a rough outline of the next couple days.

Walking out of the metro stop near my hotel, I was on the Nanjing pedestrian strip. Lots of lights, people, and nightlife. As I started walking home, two woman came up and asked to practice English with me. Yeah, right. They were too insistent. I wasn't in the mood to get taken for another ride (lots of puns there).

Language lesson: the word for "everyone" in Mandarin is "da4 jia1," literally "big family." Also, metro stops have maps that show where the different exits are related to surface streets. After staring at it for a few minutes, utterly confused, I realized that "up" was south, not north. I wonder if this points to an underlying difference in cultural assumptions. A question for the future.

Good night,

Dan

PS I'm working on it.