Mah Jiang Brunch

I really really want to learn to play mah jiang. Chinese tile game played by millions of Chinese. Traditional game. Played in the streets. Played over hours. Old men and women hover over boards of tiles. Onlookers stare mesmerized. I want part of that action. Four goals: buy a mah jiang set, find a mah jiang teacher, find three mah jiang partners, win mah jiang. Kevin is eager to help. Teacher and tiles acquired. Invite Nina and Ben to play as well. Gruesome foursome. First warm weather of the spring allows us to play outside. Start with a delicious brunch on the patio, people are revved for the game. We all don sunglasses. One must be aware of spring fashion while playing mah jiang.
I will not go into details of the rules, but I will say that it is not easy. The tiles have Chinese numbers on them. 144 tiles in all. Different groups of tiles, pictures, characters, and combinations of numbers. AUGH! I must quickly learn the characters for these numbers. I take mad notes.
Nina and Ben are cut throat. Nina is struck by beginner's luck. She wins 6 or 7 times. Ben tries to side talk with Kevin in Chinese about strategy. NOT FAIR! Nina still beats Ben. Kevin could win at any moment of the game, he is just waiting for the best possible win with the best possible rare combination for a big win. I do not win at all. At least I cooked the most fabulous quiche and apple crumble to appease this tough crowd. Three out of four goals met.

More Dumplings

I first came to Shanghai 5 years ago. 2002. I went to a huge dumpling restaurant on Nanjing Dong Lu. Could I ever find it again? I remember eating river snake meat. Not that I wanted to have that experience again, but the dumplings.... They come steaming from the kitchen like little mysteries wrapped in dough. Fillings of pork, onions and chives, mushrooms, shredded chicken... I remember.
Then suddenly, one cold windy night Kevin brings me there. THIS IS THE PLACE!!!! I shouted! This is the exact place. Still no English menu, still order by the ounce, still arrive on two plates, alomst overflowing with the mystery packages. Kevin devours them, picking them up dexterously with his chopsticks and dips them in garlicky vinegar sauce (Chinese don't add soy sauce to their food, they cook with it and them dip food into vinegar). He eats four in the time it takes me to eat one. "Just stab them with your chopsticks, he explains!" Wo xi huan bao ze- I love dumplings and my Chinese is improving!! How many dumplings can you eat? Kevin wins.

Shanghai to Yangshuo trip

The Shanghai to Guilin flight serves very Asian snacks. Like squid floss lice. Dried pieces of squid. Lice?? Hmm... Dave, the Japanese-American adventure man loved it. Hmmm. Suspect.

Also suspect: our riverside hotel, the Yanghsuo mountain resort, was "rustic". This means doors open to the great outdoors and heat is not something that this chilly mountain resort knows much about. We spent one afternoon snuggled under blankets and clothes and hats, 15 minutes outside of town, along a mud road, far from the world... It didn't matter that we were stuck in the frigid room at the retreat (for the first night, at least!), Dave had brought US Weekly and People magazines from the states and we spent hours pouring over Britney drama. Had about 9,000 cups to tea and coffee, and didn't even freak when Dave lost his credit cards because, SNAP!, his blackberry AND cell phone worked in the throes of lost China countryside... and Citi was on the case....

After experiencing "rustic", we decided that maybe after one night in the bush we could go into town to a real hotel. The Paradise Hotel in downtown Guilin. In the same neighborhood as the hotel, we got our muddy boots cleaned for 25US cents and bought candied ginger, sesame seed candies and dined at the same little restaurant three nights in a row. Beer soaked fish with chilis, fried eggplant, noodles, and bowl after bowl of delicious rice. I can't wait to go back to this quaint town. I really mean town. After the small cities in China of 5 million people, this town really was cute. Only 60,000 people!!! Perhaps a cliche to say, but if you have ever seen a calligraphy painting of Chinese mountains or river scenes, chances are it was an image of Yangshuo. Absolutely gorgeous.

The Mountains of Yangshuo

The guidebook says, "Many people reflect after travelling all over China that Guilin is the most beautiful part of their trip." I can not agree more. After practically drowning in the concrete ocean of Shanghai, I was thrilled to get out into the mountains. Mountains they are, karsts, limestone creations that have actually been worn away by the dripping and flow of water. A geologist, I am not, however, so I simply marvelled at the mountains as majestic creations. These pictures are views from the very "rustic" hotel that Dave and I stayed in. Dave is Japanese-American. Looks Chinese-ish. We travelled together and people simply began speaking to him in Chinese. I explained in my Chinese that he was American. They continued to talk to him in Chinese until after MANY minutes that truly, he did not speak Chinese. People just couldnt get it. Furthermore, they assumed he was my husband. Then when I explained that he was my friend, one taxi driver said, "oh... just flan... yeah, just flan...". Friend, flan, same thing. We went hiking, walking through mud, adventuring and laughing down the street, trying to shake off the most aggressive water seller in the history of the business. She followed us up the mountain, sure that we would buy water at the top. When I pulled water out of my backpack she did not look as crushed as I expected. She whipped out a book of postcards and hawked those my way. Well, I am a sucker for postcards, and China being the place where people buy stuff constantly, I bought a book of postcards at the top of the mountain. Let's say I was supporting the local economy. Last day, I went climbing and my flan Dave meandered and took photos. FABULOUS! I will go back for 5 days in May to camp. More on that later...