Suzhou, Shanghai, and New York

I am back in New York; I am tired; I am jetlagged.

On arriving at home, I realized that I had left myself nothing to eat and nothing with which to bathe. I put on my coat and walked north to the drug store. At the intersection of Thompson and Prince, they were shooting a new Kiera Knightly film. Paparazzi crowded on a corner. Their cameras reminded me of those of Chinese tourists, though with even longer lenses. I waited as they shot a scene. Actors cris-crossed the street. A cab passed by.

A man yelled "cut!" and then asked the actors to reset. New Yorkers cris-crossed the street. A cab passed by. I couldn't help but notice how stylishly dressed everyone was. I couldn't tell the difference between actors and locals.

This morning I woke at 4. I had gone to bed at 11, after forcing myself to stay awake. I watched a film and thought about watching another. On Monday, I was in transit for almost thirty hours, leaving near midnight from Shanghai Sunday night and arriving in New York Monday afternoon. I had wanted to take the train to the station, but decided to spend more time with C—. The airport unspooled before us in the night, its terminals like wings encompassing the lighted ribbons of road wove between them.

I took the subway home. I was immediately struck by the diversity of the people, and within that the general homogenous dress. In a Beijing cab, Ed had noted that while cultures were eager to adopt western dress, almost no culture ever adopts another culture's food. I am now craving Sichuanese food.

Last Thursday I had dinner with a Shanghainese friend. She had suggested we go to Suzhou for a day. She told me that the new Suzhou museum designed by I.M. Pei had opened a few years ago and was certain I hadn't seen it. I agreed and she bought tickets.

We had dinner in a local restaurant in a busy area of Shanghai. I was early and sat in a plaza by a large department store after coming out of the metro. I sat next to a Thai cross-dresser, who chatted with her Thai friend. I watched the crowd of younger Shanghainese coming in and out of the metro station.

My friend L— took me to a Shanghainese restaurant and proceeded to order the specialities. I ate. The food was delicious. We caught up on each other's lives and she told me of her friends in Suzhou. She said we'd drink tea and listen to zither music. Her friend was studying to play the instrument on the outskirts of the city. She said we could sit by the water and look at the mountains, but I wasn't sure if she was joking.

We met the next morning at the train station. The trip was a scant 45 minutes on a new modern train. I had remembered the trip taking longer. We walked the length of the station to exit and walked to a nearby bus stop. L— complained about how disorderly the Suzhou train station was. She said that cabs would refuse to come to the station because of the frequent traffic jams in and around the area.

The museum was beautiful. It reminded me of the Miho Museum, near Kyoto in its construction and in its spare but very fine collection. Whereas that museum took advantage of its natural surroundings, the Suzhou museum felt like a modernist take on the courtyard houses for which the city is famed.

We had lunch at a restaurant specializing in the Suzhou noodles. L— said that they served a particularly fine noodle in their broths. She ordered a fish to accompany her noodes that was very similar to a fried fish in Shanghainese cooking.

We took a bus to Shan Tang Lu. It left us off on the side of a highway and we asked an old woman sitting at the stop for directions. She pointed back towards a bridge we had just crossed, leading back towards the highway. We walked in the direction she pointed. Traffic breezed by us. A man climbed a highway barrier and clambered down an embankment to a small street. We asked the way to Shan Tang Lu. He motioned us to follow his lead and then pointed up the alley.

We walked the length of Shan Tang Lu, which ran alongside a canal. The walk was pleasant and quiet. The older residents of the area sat outside their homes or in pagodas along the water. Here and there people fished. Infrequent tourist boats plied the waters.

At the end of the street we found a three-wheeled moto to take us back to the other end. L— squealed as the driver wove through the opposing traffic on the narrow path. People darted in front of him, scurrying to get past. We took tea in the courtyard of an old house that had been turned into a hotel. The place seemed empty, but the attendant told us that they were booked solid.

That night we took a bus to the outskirts of town. L— told me that her friends had booked a hotel in the city beacuse they were afraid we wouldn't be able to get back in time for our train the next day from their campus. We checked into a Jin Jiang hotel and prepared for dinner.

We ate in a Sichuanese restaurant just behind the hotel. It seemed we were in the suburbs and I was surprised to find a bustling street of shops and restaurants hidden by the hotel's facade. L— introduced me to her friend, whose name translates to Dream Rain, her friend's daughter, and their friend from Beijing. Dream had brought a flask of tea she had brewed just for the occasion (L— had told me that she takes frequent trips to Yunnan to buy tea and resell it in Eastern China; later she would give me a brick of tea that they had marketed themselves). She poured it in our cups and bade us savor its flavor and fragrance.

Back at the hotel, Dream's daughter brewed tea. Dream brought out her zither and began to play. L— asked about Dream's jade, and soon everyone had brought out their jade while Dream discoursed on the various properties of each. That night I tried to capture everything in my journal, but sleep overtook me.

The next day we met up again in the morning for tea before L— and I had to catch our train. We had brunch in town and then took the train back to Shanghai. We went back to Moganshan and L— introduced me to some of her friends who were artists and had studios there. The area was bustling with people. A camera club from a nearby university had brought models with them and were posing them around the complex. On a catwalk, another group were photographing each other in cosplay.

I stood outside and watched the people mill about. L— and I commented on the activities around us as the sun went down.

For dinner, she took me back to Wujiang Lu. We had talked about having Hunan food at a restaurant near there. The street was packed with people and L— kept a running commentary on the various stalls and restaurants we passed. She pointed to one hole in the wall and said that it was a good Sichuanese restaurant that she hadn't been back to in a while. I suggested we go there. She said we'd have to wait, which was fine with me.

There were two tables in front of us. The waitress had us order while we waited. They said that they stay open until the food runs out, which is usually around 9. There's always a line for the restaurant. Inside, five or six tables were packed into a cramped space; you couldn't reach your seat without knocking into someone.

The food was delicious. The spices made my nose run, but I couldn't stop stuffing myself.

After dinner L— showed me her apartment. We drank tea and talked about this and that. She said that she wouldn't be able to spend any time with me on Sunday; she was attending a colleague's wedding. The hour grew late and she said the metro would probably stop soon. She walked me down to the street and put me in a cab. I thanked her for her hospitality and for showing me around Suzhou. I waved from the window; she told me to call her before I left the next evening.

The driver was confused. He pulled out a map to find the address and I told him the general area, which he recognized. He knew the main street there and I told him it was the next street over. He put the map away.

Near the Shanghai stadium, traffic ground to a halt. A concert (I think Ayumi Hamasaki) had just let out and stylishly dressed people were scrambling for cabs. My driver rolled down his window to chat with a fellow driver as people waved their arms in the air.

Sunday morning I had breakfast with C—. We ate at a nearby dim sum restaurant before she had to go into work. I met up with another friend for coffee. He had been working in Shanghai a number of years and it was interesting to get his perspective on the changes in China. At three, we parted. I was to meet a woman I had met in Moganshan a few days earlier for tea, but something had come up. I went shopping and then to eat dumpings at Din Tai Fung.

I skipped dinner. C— and I ate simply at home before walking out to do some grocery shopping. She pointed out some restaurants and stalls recommended by her friends and I made a note of where to eat next time I was in the city. Back at home, I took a shower then sat on the couch, savoring my last few sedentery moments before heading to the airport.

Closing my eyes, I couldn't remember where I was. I thought back over the past five weeks and couldn't believe I had been in Moscow so recently. That city now felt like a mirage. I made a few phone calls and sent some text messages to my friends in China then shouldered my bag and set off.
Posted by eku at October 23, 2008 7:22 AM