Days and Nights in Xi'an: the Adjustment

  Xi'an, Shaanxi, China, Shaanxi, China
Saturday, April 25, 2009

The first few weeks I spent in Xingping, trying to work out how to get out.  Perhaps I shouldn't have done that.  Perhaps I should have spent time finding what I was looking for inside Xingping... but it reminded me too much of Westhoughton.  I had to leave it.  Since London will hopefully be my home for the next four years, it seems fitting to find the closest thing around here, which is Xi'An.  It is a wonderful place and, strangely enough, has a London 'vibe', while being nothing like London.  It's smaller and more Chinese.

I remember my first time there was to visit the hospital that I wrote about earlier.  I had a quick looksie at the Bell Tower, seeing the ubiquitous McDonalds in the background.  I thought 'I must come back here'.  The following weekend (Monday, for me) I decided to try to venture to Xi'An alone.  I had gotten the names of the bus station and bell tower written down in my notebook, ready to show someone if needed.  I had my passport and name of a good hostel (Xiangzimen, near the South Gate; very easy to find!).  I also arranged to meet a new friend, George, who is also in one or two pictures in this section of the 'blog'.  We had each other's phone numbers and arranged to meet near the Bell Tower.  Phoning up on the bus on the way, we were trying to find a convenient place to meet that was more specific, near the Bell Tower.  George suggested the Starbucks.  My heart sank, thinking that this would be his regular haunt like the stereotypical corpulent American.  He sounded like a rather old and intelligent man.  I met him outside of the Starbucks/ McDonalds and he was exactly the opposite... well, he is intelligent but not that old.  In fact, only two years older than me: 26.

We pottered around a bit and went to the hostel to meet Helen.  We chatted there a little and a group of Chinese people who were drinking at the other side of the room called us over.  Well, when I say 'called us over', I actually mean one of them stumbled over and 'said' something incoherent to me and pointed to a Chinese girl who was making embarassed gestures and pleading him to come away.  She came to drag him away.  George thought this great.  We continued chatting and  he came up again and said "my friend... we want you my friend we are friends".  From this we somehow figured out that they wanted to just say hello!  So, we went over and this is a picture of us all together: .  The chap who had been trying to get our attention was the life and soul of this not-quite-a-party.  He had a great name: 'Weep'.  He told Helen that he loved her.  She said that she wasn't sure he meant that but, yes, he did indeed mean that.  He then told George and me that we were all friends.  He (very sweetly) bought us all drinks, which we already had plenty of.  We tried to talk to them for a bit and then left to eat, much to the dismay of 'Weep'.  They were very friendly folk and, even though they ended up being somewhat ephemera in my journey, I'm glad I met them.

Speaking of strange names the Chinese choose for themselves, here is a list of the most imaginative ones there are: 'Strawberry', 'Luna', 'Weep' (of course), 'Vampire', 'Blues'.  There are quite a few, actually, but most of them seem to be called 'Bob' or 'Tom' or, for a girl, 'Linda' or 'Alice'.  I have classes with as many as three Bobs in them!

We went to the Muslim Quarter to eat.  I really rather like it there.  Helen and George showed me two foods I'd never eaten before and still can't spell.  One was a kind of dumping.  The other was some kebaby thing.  The dumplings were grand but the kebabs were all gristle.  Having said that, George and Helen enjoyed them.  In the restaurant, some Chinese people decided to take our photograph: 'The Foreign Monkeys Eating'. 

Now, I have a Chinese name... and only today did I find out it's meaning.  I am called 'Bao Luo', which is the closest they can find to 'Paul'.  All this time I've been introducing myself as Wu Bao Luo; a name Wang (Rio) gave to me.  I booked into the hostel in Xi'An today and told them 'Hey! You know! I have a Chinese name!'.  I told them what it was and they wrote it down.  I asked them: what does it mean?.  The first thing they told me was 'Bao means 'protector''.  Ooooo, I thought, ooooo! That's great! I'm a protector! Wonderful! Then I said 'Oh, what am I a protector of? It must be something good'.  Without skipping a beat, the girl behind the desk said, in earnest, 'carrots'.  So, I am 'The Protector of Carrots'... great!

It's 29th April.  Last night I met a fantastic character and such a wonderfully nice man: Jack.  He looked like a serious kind of chap but when he spoke, his voice was warm and humane, as was his smile.  He, George, and I spoke for hours about everything under the sun (because his excellent English permitted this).  He lived in the USA for 13 years in Milwalkie, New York, and various other places.  He certainly lived his life.  He now owns a very nice flat in his home town of Xi'An with a big ping-pong table off which he served tea to me and George out of a tea pot made in England.  Thinking about it now, he was very excentric - though it didn't seem particularly so at the time - which is probably why I was immediately drawn to him; I'm seen as excentric by most too! He thought I looked like a scholar and George looked like a 'playboy', though I still maintain that George looks more like Brian Wilson in his 'mad' period.  Look at the pictures and decide for yourself.  I'm certainly going to be meeting Jack again and hopefully have some fantastic adventures.  Who knows... maybe I'll make an entry in this blog called, simply, 'Jack'.

It's 1st May: May Day.  The Chinese are all off work and seem to be making a massive deal of this holiday.  In fact, I was in Xi'An yesterday and thought that I'd come back before the Chinese hive began to travel.  It was a wise decision.  Only thing is, even though I planned to come back before people were meant to finish work on Thursday, the bus station was so packed that people were congregating outside, queueing for ages!  'Sod this!' I thought and rang Rio to get him to instruct a taxi driver where to take me (to Xingping; I wasn't going to stay in Xi'An when it's that busy).  It turned out that he was on his way to Xi'An too so I decided to go and have a look at the Silk Road Monument to kill some time.  It was very nice with a lovely map!

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I've still not got my passport back yet... and can't go anywhere I'm not known.  I can't leave Xingping/ Xi'An... but this 'chapter' of the 'blog' is really just about my adjustment; when I went to Xi'An to escape from the small-town Xingping and have some great experiences.  However, I am settled enough to start to explore the country now... when I have my passport... next stop: Beijing!