A Walk in the Park

Yesterday after dinner I had about an hour before I had to meet an interviewee on the main campus, so I went wandering in the park across the street. This is the kind of thing that I love doing in China; I feel like it's "real" in some way that the gardens, temples, and other tourist stops are not--these are average people, enjoying their evening in the neighborhood park. To get to the park, you cross the street by the west gate of the main campus, walk past a couple of internet bars and a restaurant, and hang a left. When you first walk in, there's an outdoor roller skating rink set down in a large pit, and pool tables and a kiddie playground on the other side. I wandered around the outside of this area, mostly watching the kids. I crossed the arching stone bridge--57 steps to get over a canal about 15 feet across--and walked into the main part of the park. To my right was a marble floor, where I imagine the old people come in the mornings to do their exercises. I took the path to the left, over a footbridge and between two pools of algae-green water. I wandered slowly, following the meandering paths through the trees, bushes, and other plants that made the park quite pleasant. Passed a pagoda where old men were gathered advising and cheering on the participants of an intense-looking game of Chinese chess. In a clearing a little ways down the path, other old people were practicing their "qigong," or breathing exercises. Throughout the parks, young couples sat cuddling on benches or walking the stone paths slowly with fingers entwined. There is not much privacy in this country, I think. On the lake, a man in a motorboat is rounding up the last of the rented boats to tie them up for the night. Some of the boats are shaped like battleships, with fake guns on the front; some are shaped like animals, some are plain orange and blue paddleboats. I continue down the lake-side path, pausing to watch two children play on another open marble-floored area. The little girl has a white gauze and wire flower, and is using it to direct her younger playmate in a jumping game. An older man, their grandpa maybe, sees me watching and gives me a grin. Down the path a ways, a little boy hangs onto his mom's hand, gleefully swinging a plastic bag with a goldfish. A man in a suit walks the path, cigarette in hand and cell phone pressed to his ear. He seems kind of out of place in the park tonight. I pass a man on a bench with his shoes off, rubbing his feet; he turns to watch me as I pass--no smile, but no hostility, just curiosity I think. What's the waiguoren doing here? A little ways further, a man sits selling goldfish from a rock-pond. I wonder if he takes them home at night in a big bucket, or whether they just stay in the pond. Around that corner by the back gate, and the man on the bench turns to look at me again. Crazy waiguoren, just wandering around by herself. Up ahead, women sit at a small table, folding wire and stretching gauze around it, tacking it in place with florist tape to make flowers. Two young boys, still in their school uniforms with the red handkerchiefs tied around their necks, chatter as they walk along with arms linked. Ahead, two older women are taking their evening walk, arms linked like the little boys'. A mom watches her small daughter, pretty in a white dress with blue flowers and bright green shoes. The girl climbs the uneven stone steps up to the pagoda; "be careful now, come on back down" says mom. I stop to take a picture of something or another, and they walk on. When I catch up to them again, the mom is saying, "because she is not from our China." She catches my smile, and explains that the girl wanted to know why I was a "waiguoren." I laugh, and ask how old she is. "She's four. Your Chinese is quite good!" I laugh again; oh how I wish my Chinese was "quite good." I take the path to the left, back around the first marble-floor area. A family is there now, the dad trying to hit a badminton birdie back and forth with his son, not entirely unsuccessfully, but bad enough as to amuse the mom and the other people sitting around the marble area. Occasionally as I wander, I hear "waiguoren" or "laowai" (both meaning foreigner), and if I turn and smile, "ting de dong!" (she understands!) and usually a smile or laughter. I walk back over the marble bridge, this time passing a man and a woman on a bench, the man with his arm in a huge plaster cast, supported by a cloth slung around his shoulder. Maybe to impress his wife or girlfriend, the man offers a "hallooo" as I pass. That cast cannot be comfortable. I smile and offer a "hello" in return. The wife/girlfriend seems suitably impressed I guess. Ten minutes to get to my interview. I walk back by the skating rink, past a group of guys who snicker at some joke, probably having to do with the waiguoren. Ah well. It's been a lovely evening.