Dim Sum Alone

The night I arrive in Guangzhou, it wins me over quickly--a state-of-the-art and english-friendly rail system, subsequent arrival to a fun little waterfront neighborhood where my hostel was located, a great meal at a nearby Muslim Noodle Restaurant, and a walk along the pier looking across the river to downtown. The next day I follow the recommendations of the hostel receptionist and go to the Chen Clan Academy, an exhibit of just unreal Chinese sculptures and paintings, contained in different rooms in a temple that was impressive in its own right. Even the stuff in the gift shop was out of this world (and not at all unaffordable). I'm far from an art-head, but I walked away with my jaw on the floor. ___________________________________________________ My other stop was Yuexiu Park. The parks I went to in China were so different than I expected: they were more like hilly forests, with paths and stairways through a huge variety of trees and plants that lead to all sorts of different features, big and small: a big sculpture of rams, or a hidden waterfall, or a temple, or a mini-theme park for kids. The activities of the patrons were equally diverse: chinese chess, badminton, ballroom dancing, singing and playing music, etc. Towards the end of my walk I come around a corner and in front of me are a set of basketball courts. I can't resist hopping in a three on three game--leaving my passport and other belongings under the hoop--and end up playing until dusk. I'm rusty and honestly intimidated by all of the eyes on me, so I probably disappoint, but in the end I hold my own against my smaller foes and my team wins most of our games. When it gets dark and everyone gets ready to leave, a couple guys invite me to play the next day, but I tell them I'll be on my way to Hong Kong by then. Otherwise I definitely would have gone back. I would love to visit the city again. ___________________________________________________ The only blemish on my brief experience in Guangzhou is my ill-fated attempt to get dim sum by myself before leaving town, at an acclaimed downtown restaurant. The highlight of the debacle is probably when I abandon all that I had been told about Chinese etiquette (maybe outdated information anyway) and choose not to consume the full plate of six tennis-ball sized custard rolls I somehow managed to order. I end up making a full spectacle out of myself, but I think I make the right decision, because vomiting all over my table probably would have been far less well received. The waitress voluntarily bags up the remaining four rolls, and with a sympathetic smile, sends me on my way with my leftovers.