downtime
There is a part of traveling on holiday that is about experiences, of visiting temples and museums and restaurants and immersing oneself into a culture that you may not see at home. But then there is another part that is about just being still and watching the world doing its thing.
ayun and I were sitting in a teahouse, in the middle of a day that had included patriotic plazas and idling in parks, watching middle aged Chinese women doing dance calisthenics routines. We had stopped here simply to get a coffee, but then a light rain had started and that just seemed like a good reason to linger. We had our journals out, writing side by side, and there was a puppy curled up at my feet, napping like I suspected he would do on most days at the feet of other strangers.
When folks asked us why we were going to Chengdu, the easiest thing to say was that we were going to check out some of the nearby mountains. In truth, though, after the non-stop bustle of Hong Kong with its crowds and a schedule of suit fittings and bus timetables and meeting friends, we were both in some need of just chilling out.
The coffees that we had originally ordered were long consumed, and at some point I looked up and asked my friend if she wanted to split a thermos of tea. We had seen that at lots of teahouses in Chengdu -- old guys in white a-line shirts and dungarees splitting a plate of roasted peanuts and a thermos with two liters of hot water. Two liters: that was a serious commitment to idleness.
It always seems important, when travelling with someone, that you be able to share not just the fun, hectic and photogenic moments of the trip, but also the quiet, mellow and chill ones too. Being comfortable in each other's quiet seems like a rare thing for two people, and is something I've always savored when I've found it. We had taken to alternating between writing in our journals and filling out postcards, and sometimes as I filled one out to a common friend, I'd flick it over to ayun to let her read it, and she'd smile and then take out her pen and scribble a small postscript at the bottom.
As we walked around Chengdu, I had said to ayun that I was trying to think of what this city reminded me of. Like, if you thought of Beijing, Hong Kong and Shanghai as China's equivalent of DC, New York and San Francisco then Chengdu was a smaller, but still important city like Minneapolis or Boston. Yet, as we walked around and saw the teahouses, the parks and the prevalence of outdoor gear catering to travelers on their way to Tibet, Ann nailed it when she said, "you know what this place is? It's Seattle."