Before leaving Suzhou, I wanted to see the Suzhou museum, which is designed by the guy who designed the Louvre in Paris. I forget his name, but he is from Suzhou. The museum is supposedly a modern interpretation of a Chinese garden.
While in Shanghai however, a taxi driver told me that his favorite garden was the lion garden, so I decided I should check that out too. This taxi driver asked me where my "old home is." In Chinese, that is how they ask you where your roots are. I replied that my father's family was from Suzhou, and my mother's family was from Shandong. "In that case, you are from Suzhou. We follow the father's family, so since your father is a Suzhou person, you are a Suzhou person." Apparently, you can only write one location on your national documents, so everyone follows the father's home. The taxi man added, "we have a saying here, about how Suzhou people speak. We say, 'it is nicer to listen to Suzhou people having an argument, than to Shandong people having a conversation."
I will say that I have noticed that Suzhou people speak softly and gently. Very elegantly, actually. Shandong, I must admit, is indeed a noisier place. I however, tend to speak quite loudly too. Maybe I should work more on my indoor voice. In Suzhou though, I get a lot of props when I tell people that my dad's family is from Suzhou, and I think it does help me get better prices.
In many places, there is a separate price for foreigners and locals. When I shop, I usually take a tour around, because I will usually get both prices. Some store owners will charge me the ticket price, while others will start with a far lower price. They will then tell me, "this is what we charge foreigners, but since you have family in Suzhou, you can have this better price." Chinese sales people are quite talented, but I do have to say the ones in Shanghai are still the best. They make good suggestions, and you end up loving something you originally wouldn't even have thought of buying.
The Lion Garden is named so because of many rock formations that look like lions. It was really crowded. Part of the fun is climbing through these rock formations, but with all of the tour groups, it ends up feeling like you are just waiting in a huge line to move through. I left early, and went to the Suzhou museum.
There was a long line to get in--it's free, but they only allow 3000 visitors per day. While in line, i eavesdropped on the family behind me. A little girl had bought a fan, for 2 yuan--maybe 30 cents. She was fanning herself and her little brother, and he kept trying to grab the fan. She got angry. "It's MY fan!! Stop stealing it!"
The mom said, "he wants to play with it because he likes you and wants to do anything that you do. What you play with, he will want to play too." She turned to the small boy and asked, "don't you love your sister?"
"YES!!" He replied enthusiastically.
The little girl pouted and said, "he only loves me because I'm fanning him."
On the way in, she accidentally bumped him and he fell on his face. Having been an older sister, I knew what she was thinking--he's totally going to cry, and I'm going to get in trouble. She thought quickly though, and said, "hey! Want me to carry you on my back?? That will be fun right?"
His face, which had been wrinkled in the expression that little kids make (the one when they are inhaling because they are getting ready to roar), melted into a grin. "YES!" He said, excited. He climbed up from the ground and clamored onto her back, and the two of them toddled off, her skinny legs bent to support his weight. That entire scenario was another accident waiting to happen, since she definitely was not strong enough to carry him safely for very long.
There were some interesting collections of jade and old fans, and a beautifully designed garden. However, I was thinking about my scarf that I didn't buy, so I went to Suzhou's shopping district, hoping that I would find it there.
Unfortunately, I did not.
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| Suzhou Museum |
A word about trains here. Each time, something has gone wrong, and I've worried that I would miss my train. First of all, train tickets tend to sell out quickly, so you need to buy in advance. There are two types of people who travel--alarmists, and last minute people. I suppose there are people in between, but I feel like most people I've met are one or the other. My friend in Beijing does thins last minute, so when I wanted to go to my train she kept assuring me that she has calculated for me, and I had plenty of time. She said, "trains leave on time here, so you should be on it maybe five minutes before departure time."
With her suggestion, I found that time was extremely tight, and after running to the platform, I made it on about 3 minutes before the train pulled out of the station. I sent her a message and said, "this was not enough time!!"
"Did you miss your train??" She asked.
"No."
"Then it was enough time."
Meanwhile, my relatives in Qingdao like to plan ahead. "Trains leave on time," they said, "so you should be at the station an hour before your departure time." There had been a minor hiccup then, because there was an abnormally long line to get my ticket, but since we had an hour, I wasn't worried. My relatives however, were freaking out. "You'll miss your train!!" They kept exclaiming, while I still had 30 minutes left and was headed through security. I did absorb that stress too though, and began to worry. As I walked through security, I felt like Forrest Gump, because from behind me my relatives yelled, "run! Ruuuuuuun!!"
So this time, leaving Suzhou, it turned out I went to the wrong station. There are two, and my departure was from the Northern one. I showed the ticket to two police men, asking about the station, and one said, "oh, so unlucky! So unlucky! There is no way you will make it, hurry and get a refund!"
I trusted him, and mentally began making plans to stay in Suzhou another night, but when I tried to change my ticket, the ticket seller said, "bah! You have plenty of time, just take the subway, you won't take more than 30 minutes to get there."
Meanwhile, an old lady who had somehow become invested in my plight yelled, "you can do it, subway is there, ruuuuun!!"
It turned out that it was okay, and I made my train. I'm starving though, because I didn't get a chance to eat anything.
I have been thinking more about what makes that photographer's work so amazing, and I think it is because he manages to capture the extraordinary in ordinary moments. Like, a kid eating ramen--not anything anyone would think could be art. But he sets it up, and it works--it becomes something that I would want to purchase.
I am now on the train back to Beijing. I bumped me knee climbing on a rock at the lion's garden, and it hurts a lot. I can't even bend it. We become so fragile as adults--that little boy fell on his face and he is fine, while that bump has made me limp most of the day.
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