Arrived at Xian at 7:30am. Somewhat less crowded at this station. Many peddlars, some beggars. Food being sold at train side. Finally got a cab that agreed to take us to our hotel..The check-in clerk seemed exhausted. Probably working two jobs. Could hardly keep her eyes open. Maybe she worked all night?
Room at Drum and Bell Tower Hotel is spacious. No tissues here. Red tea. I walked to breakfast with Xiao Jing and Michael but
couldn't do too much..Got testy about our plan to find a laundromat. Really need clean clothes! Finally ran across a laundry that charges 50 yuan per item. Really didn't want to think about trusting everything to laundry. Seems too luxurious when we're so tuned into thinking cheap. We decided to try a few items only.This is Muslim country. Michael and Xiao Jing left me to nap while they scope it out. They returned at 3 (4pm) and Michael was excited. He had found the perfect noodle shop. It was an outdoor stand. Ordered giouza with a garlic sauce and bowls of noodles that seemed a bit resistant to the bite. Xiao Jing concerned about the sanitation at this establishment.
This bazaar is packed with week-end tourists and citizens. Much jostling and much to see. Xiao Jing excited about all the desert foods, huge puffy chewy dates, persimmons, beans, dried fruits and terracotta soldier statues. We bought tee shirts with ancient calligraphy on the front. Too expensive Michael said later. Again he explained about how the vendors have a hate/love relationship with Americans. Will that worsen when China loses the spiritual core of its people to the Western decadent way of life? Old people at the new shiny malls stand and cluck as they watch the process beginning.
After dinner we wander through a mall that has three levels underground. So many brands offered of each article. A huge McDonalds here. Three huge rooms of people eating "decadent" foods I took pictures for Susan.
Out to the street to wander. Stumbled onto an old part of Xian- the education section, Xiao Jing notes from a statue. We look for someone to tell us about it. Michael notes a man hanging calligraphy scrolls along the side of an old building using clothes pins. He approaches the man and a conversation ensues. The man sells these scrolls. Michael is bowled over with their beauty and Xiao Jing concurs. The man recites their meaning. Michael again awe struck. The man explains his work. He is a teacher of art who has "retired" and makes his living doing this work. They offer 100 yuan (their own money) for the two hangings. The man says, "No, that isn't enough for two but I will give you the Mao one free." Michael practically kowtows to the teacher he is so pleased and moved. The panels are rolled but no box is big enough for them. He rushes about to nearby vendors but no boxes found. He gets his materials together to close up shop since it is now dark and invites us to his home to wait for him to get boxes. We follow him through a narrow ancient alley past a shop and turn right to climb a dark, narrow stairway. I had to convince myself that there was no danger of his leading us into a den of thieves. At the top we turn right again to what I thought was the end of the hallway but he moved some tall panels of drywall and leaning them to the side he motioned us to follow a bit further to a doorway on the left which he opened inviting us inside. The room was deep and narrow maybe 24'X12' wide. His bed along the far wall supported on blocks of wood; his tea, a small cooking pot and a hotplate to its right. There were two framed panels that showed his awards and his teaching certificates leaning against the wall. He has an award for calligraphy, a national honor. Why must teachers and creators of beauty be so poor!
When he returned he realized we were in darkness and reached to the far left corner to turn on the only light, a plain light bulb hanging from an electric cord which came from the ceiling there. He carefully inserted the scrolls into the boxes and secured them with raffia ties. He had brought a friend back with him whom he introduced. Business cards were exchanged. I asked if I could take his picture. I took two. I had to step back through the door to the rail of the walkway looking down to the street. He refused Michael's offer to go for food. We made our goodbyes and followed Xiao Jing down the treacherous stairs through the alley and to the street.
M, X & Calligrapher
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