A Canadian in Beijing: Suzhou’s Hidden Gardens

I’m tired of being stared at and so I’ve crouched down and I’m writing in here, tucked between two full benches in a room that holds one thousand people, easily. This is one of five waiting rooms at the Suzhou Zhan (train station) where people are waiting for their Labour Day trains to take them away from their lives for a few days. There really aren’t a lot of white faces in this town and mine has received a lot of stares, points, giggles and craning necks.

Today I came to Suzhou on a day trip from Shanghai. It was Jeni’s idea, really, and she even bought me a ticket here and everything. This is the site of some of the world’s oldest traditional gardens and I wanted to see them (or at least one of them) and take some photographs.

Today is Lao Dong Jie, or “Labour Day” as we know it, and it marks the beginning of a week’s holiday for nearly everyone in China. It’s amazing that I was able to get a return ticket back to Shanghai considering the line-ups at the train station this afternoon. The whole process took about an hour and a half. I stook in one line about one hundred feet long next to maybe thirty other identical line-ups just slammed with people. And while they moved fairly quickly, there was pushing and budding and shouting at the ticket windows, which made for some very stern clerks.

I waited patiently and when it came to my turn, I was given a wide berth – a sort of foreigner’s deference. Strange at times and common here in China, but today it was appreciated as it made it easier for me to communicate with the attendant and secure my return fare. I was the only white face that I could see in a room of more people than I could estimate and this photo (above) does not do the scale justice.

Suzhou is known for its beauty and many people retire here. It is a smaller city – only about six million people, or a bit bigger than the size of Toronto! – and it is full of greenery and lovely canals that line walkways and parks.

After the train station, I walked in the direction of the most recommended garden. There was so much construction on this road that I couldn’t find it and everyone I asked was either also visiting or was too shy to respond. I ended up joining the throngs on a small shaded patch of grass by a river to have a snack and to rest my walking legs.

When I started up again, I finally saw a historical landmarks sign that told me that I’d overshot that particular garden. “Mei wenti,” I thought (or, “no problem”), “I’ll just go to a different one!” So, I followed my nose and my eyes and zeroed in on an historic temple that cost too much to tour (but was free to photograph!)

I was sure that the temple would have some gardens to tour but I was wrong. I continued on. I even hopped a rickshaw for a large section of one of the busy streets. There was just something sweet about the rickshaw driver and he caught me with tired feet!

When I hopped out, I was supposed to be really close to the “Joy Gardens,” which were next on my map. I walked along the road and couldn’t see a single garden nor an entrance way or alley towards one. I did, however, pass a music shop.

That’s when it was all over.

A young man was sitting in the entrance way and was playing an erhu. These traditional Chinese instruments have always fascinated me and I even own (a broken) one at home. I walked past the shop and smiled but then a few paces later I remembered that I needed a guitar strap and so I doubled back.

The men in the doorway greeted me with smiles – both the proprietor and the young musician – and motioned for me to tour the store at my leisure. I asked about the guitar strap and promptly purchased it (only 10 kuai!) and then proceeded to ask some various questions about the erhu. Eventually, I imagine that my questions got a bit trying and they asked me if I wanted to try to play it. Of course I did!

They gave me an informal lesson on holding the bow and the instrument on my leg, finding the notes (doh, ray, me, fah, so, lah, tee, doh) and the correct posture. I was concentrating so much on trying to hear the pitch and land the notes correctly that I didn’t realize until I looked up about five minutes later that a small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk to watch this blonde foreigner make horrifying, out-of-tune sounds on the erhu!

The owner subtly motioned for me to move into the store and he sat me down half-way back and away from the onlookers and then plopped a children’s erhu lesson book in front of me. If was equipped with pictures and diagrams. He told me to keep working on it with an impatient “why-have-you-stopped?” gesture and so I did. It only took me about another five minutes to successfully nail the major scale. They applauded. I smiled like the little kids in the pictures and I knew that I had to buy one.

Only 175 kuai later and I had a starter erhu and case filled with extra strings, rosin and the shopkeeper’s well-wishes.

Now they wanted to hear me play the guitar and so I spent another half an hour picking and strumming away at a very cheap guitar that he pulled off of the wall for me to play. They clapped and laughed at my style of playing but kept encouraging me and I was easily baited into playing more. Finally, though, it was time to put the cheap guitar back on the wall in hopes that it would one day stay in tune.

I strung my new erhu over my shoulder and bounded out of the store with music in my step.

I was still looking for that garden, but I again couldn’t find it, even after asking the police who made a grand (and loud) show of miming how to get to the garden to me despite my ability to understand basic directions.

A half-hour later and I was no closer to any traditional garden. I had planned to meet some friends from Canada in Suzhou in the afternoon and I was already late. I caught a taxi and had to accept the fact that I wouldn’t be seeing any gardens this time around. The traditional gardens of Suzhou will have to wait until the next time.

(I’m sure they’re beautiful!)

I’d like to think of this music shop as my hidden garden in Suzhou. It was beautiful and full of tradition!

They’re calling my train now. Time for me to lift my stuff off of this dirty floor and make my way back to Shanghai. I have a “standing only” ticket (i.e. no assigned seat) for the ninety-minute, jam-packed trip back to Shanghai. . . so wish me luck!

Erhu image came from Deborah Koh’s page dedicated to the folk music of China.

Keira Knightley and The Vacation High

And now, in celebrity travel gossip news…

Keira Knightley, the svelte star of Bend It Like Beckham, found herself while on holiday in the Himalayas. Keira told Elle Magazine about her journey through the remote area: “No-one knew me or cared what films I’d been in.” The 22-year-old added that her eyes were opened, and she now wants an obscure life instead of “the celebrity thing.”

Ah, yes, I’ve heard this before… This is a little something I like to call “The Vacation High,” and it makes you want to stay on your dream vacation forever. But you know what? The High never lasts because trips are meant to be temporary; They separate you from reality just long enough for you to forget (or ignore) your ordinary life. Call me a cynic.

Don’t get me wrong; I think Keira Knightley is great, but I also think her post-travel euphoria will most likely subside once Disney offers her $10 million to star in Pirates of the Caribbean 4: Return to the Caribbean.

(Thanks, Kelly!)

A Canadian In Beijing: Steamy Bathhouse in Shanghai

One of the essential activities during my time here, according to Jeni, was for us to go to the “bathhouse.” For me, coming from Toronto, this word is associated with more than bathing, if you know what I mean. It is laced with pleasure, kinkiness, anonymity and play. Basically, a lot of steam… of multiple origins.

Shanghai’s bathhouse was an experience I will never forget and one that will forever redefine my understanding of the word. Perhaps this was more of a “spa,” but regardless of its accurate translation, it blew my mind.

We arrived to glitzy double doors and five different attendants whose roles were (in order) to open the doors for us, greet us in both Chinese and English, beckon us to the correct counter and take our shoes. We were given rubber thongs and wrist bracelets with numbers. (From here on in, we were tracked by these numbers, so at least they did have the anonymity factor covered.)

I stepped forth in my plastic shoes and my curiosity.

Standing in the lobby, I took in the bubbling fountain, marble counters, grand piano, huge chandelier, statues and plush carpeting. I could have been standing in a five-star hotel. The lobby was also like a courtyard as the building stretched upwards five stories with various “services” on all levels but balconies overlooking the lobby from each. I learned that we would first experience the baths and then make our way upstairs. Jeni had a plan.

Really? It was already 8:30pm and I couldn’t imagine having enough time to explore this whole facility. I learned, then, that the “services” end at two o’clock in the morning, but that the spa is open twenty-four hours. I was still unsure of what these “services” would be but I was along for the ride and I nodded my consent.

What was I getting into?

We were led into the women’s entrance, which led directly into a change room where we were assigned the locker that corresponded with our number. We were instructed to remove our clothes and jewelry before moving on to the shower area.

Now, there is always a moment of self-consciousness in these settings. We live in a world that doesn’t champion nakedness often enough. At least, not after puberty, unless of course we take in special festivals or nudist colonies or have an overwhelmingly strong ability to filter out socialization and just regularly take our clothes off in public.

I hesitated in that moment and had a flash of panic. Almost simultaneous to that flash, I was aware that all the women around (besides the staff) were naked except for me. I was the odd one still dressed and my hesitation seemed grossly out of place – colonial, in a way, as though my culture was trying to bully its repressed ways into a comfortable environment in which there was no need for self-consciousness.

I removed mine too.

Spaces like this normalize nakedness.

We were led into the shower area that consisted of both stand up showers, which are the ones I’m familiar with from back home, and sit-down showers, which are in front of mirrors with hand-held shower heads and stools. I chose the unfamiliar kind because I was curious about sitting and showering and I must say that I quite like it!

All of the soap, shampoo, conditioners were provided here and there is never a time limit. Showering is required before going into the baths, but after being led to the showers, the choices were ours and we could then decide to take in a variety of options.

Women were quietly enjoying their solitude or chatting quietly in various baths as the staff constantly hovered to remove stray towels, arrange the rubber shoes more neatly, offer water or razors for those showering who wanted to also shave, etc. This made me slightly uncomfortable, but I just tried to take in the relaxation and accept that this is yet another culture difference: lots of staff and constant surveillance.

There were about eight baths in total of varying temperatures, from very hot to cold. One was a tea bath that was green in colour and smelled wonderful and another was a milk bath, slightly murky but filled with a softening ingredient that felt wonderful on my skin. Some of the baths had jets and some did not. One was outdoors along with the access to the steam room. This outside bath was lined with beautiful smooth rocks in the spring air and it was not as well lit which made for a more intimate vibe, but the rest were indoors as was the sauna and the post-bath treatment area.

After over an hour of various temperatures, sauna, steam room, more showering and a frequent return to the green tea bath (my favourite), we all signed up for some post-bath treatment. They showed us “the menu” that was written in both English and Chinese offering a “scrub down” service, facials, skin softening, etc. All were separately priced but very reasonable and we settled on the scrub, a cucumber mask and a milk treatment post-scrub. (Not very vegan of me, I know, but hey… it’s all part of the experience.)

Three women worked in this room and clients lie on narrow beds while they put on their scrub gloves and rub down your skin with this gritty, textured, spongy fabric. It exfoliates and remove dirt and dead skin cells. They “cleaned” our entire bodies (from head to toe) with the exception of our faces that were covered in cucumber (real cucumber!). When the scrub was over, they removed the mask and showed us the huge piles of dirt and skin they had removed from our bodies. We were then doused in the milk treatment and sent on our way back to the showers.

My skin has never felt so soft and smooth.

Leaving the baths took us back into the structured passageway towards the locker room. First, we were brought into a towel room where we were given paper underwear and floral mumus, or pyjamas, which was the “female” uniform for all clients. They were terrible and we all laughed as we looked at each other wearing bright pink and yellow tent dresses.

We were then led out of the baths and set loose. I noticed that the men also had floral outfits, but theirs were shirts and shorts. Both men and women mingled together in the other areas of the complex.

Jeni took us upstairs where she showed us the games rooms (you can play MaJong or poker in small separate rooms and smoke with friends here), the restaurant, the bar and the entertainment area — a huge stage fully equipped with lighting and spotlights, but we had missed the acrobats that evening! I was particularly impressed with the seating in the entertainment room that comprised of more than hundred recliners with additional footstools, each with a separate towel draped perfectly over its back. The room was nearly empty, but I could picture it full and smiled at the thought of lounging, floral, peaced-out people all taking in some crazy entertainment after having been pampered to the point of pure passivity. That would be an easy gig!

Can you imagine getting an easy chair and a footstool at a live music show? Amazing.

Upstairs, we toured the massage rooms with one-hour foot massages (that go up the knee) and half-hour back massages that were available on massage chairs. We chose to do back massages and we were assigned three male masseurs who massaged us silently over our clothes and on top of additional towels. It also included a quick chiropractic neck adjustment that I wasn’t expecting. It was a shock but felt wonderful.

You could also choose to get your nails done – full pedicures and manicures – and the technicians would either come to you, (i.e. where you’re already getting a foot/leg massage), or you could go to them (specific nail rooms).

We didn’t make it up any more levels but I was told that these upper floors had rooms that could be rented as sleep spaces. My brain extended to imagine whether or not these rooms are used for other things as well. I didn’t voice my curiosity while Jeni explained that she had stayed overnight once before and it had just cost her a bit more money. She said that it “beats a hotel” and I can see why! And furthermore, I had already heard loud snoring in the foot/leg massage room. After all this pampering, I could have fallen asleep right then too.

Such luxury is exhausting!

It was just around one in the morning by this time and we went back down to the locker area. Here, there was also a “get ready” room where all hair products, hair dryers, combs (sanitized) and lotions were provided. You could also purchase a variety of products that lined the entranceway in glass displays. Everything from underwear to deodorants.

We got dressed and headed for the lobby. Here, they removed our bracelets and tallied up our various charges. For $175 kuai (around $25 Canadian), I had just experienced a sophisticated bathhouse in Asia and I will forever consider this to be the definition of the term.

I took some pictures in the lobby with much negotiating and surveillance by the staff. Cameras were rightfully regarded as interlopers in such a private space.


Hiking Mt. Fuji Before Sunrise

A few days ago, I wrote a post about traveling in the Sahara, the favored trip of my adult ESL students. One of the trips that caught my attention was the hiking to Mt. Fuji at night. The intention of this endeavor is to arrive by sunrise.

This travel experience is not a solo endeavor. The article in Budget Traveler mentioned the dozens of people who do the same thing. Mt. Fuji, considered to be sacred, is a bit of a poke from the bottom to the top, 12,388 feet, but it’s doable for even unseasoned hikers. Taking one’s time and drinking plenty of water are imperative and there are rest stops with shack like buildings scattered along the way where, if need be, you can lie down and rest.

The Budget Traveler article mentioned people buying oxygen bottles to help them breathe towards the top, but another article in the New York Times, a first person account, doesn’t say a thing about that. For a quick nuts and bolts overview of the trip up Mt. Fuji, head to Budget Traveler. For an experiential journey, Kathy Glass’s article in the New York Times captures the sites and feelings of the assent and descent, and some tidbits of Mt. Fuji history. For example, women weren’t allowed to climb the mountain until 1867. Her descriptions of interactions with the landscape and the people she met on the way is a read to savor.

Experience Ladakh

It helps to know French for the narration, but in this lovely video of trekking in Ladakh, India, your eyesight is really enough to enjoy the viewing. The music and the sounds of the wind create something exquisite. If you’re feeling like life is spinning fast, chblanchard’s video posted on YouTube is one way to calm down.

Trekking in Ladakh starts picking up towards the end of May and on through the summer. While it helps to be in shape, someone in decent health can trek without too much trouble as long as pacing and drinking A LOT of water are part of the trekking equation. Drinking water prevents the effects of high altitudes.