Two days ago, Michael and I had an uneventful day - staying inside to blog and organize photographs. Karen went to the Temple of the Eight Immortals. The only time I left during the day was to get delicious beef, lamb, and squid skewers. Which was followed by a drink and shot in the hotel bar (Michael abstained) to celebrate the fact that we somehow made it through two months without killing each other. The shot that we had was sambuca with a squirted glob of cream in it... it was disgusting. I will neither share the name nor describe exactly what it looked like here. For details, please inquire. After the drinks, we hit the streets with a beer in hand, a douche bag American named Eric (from Jersey), and a very friendly German named David. If you would like to know what makes Eric such a douche bag, you may inquire along with the shot details... but it had to do with being openly degrading to women. After a crude gang bang joke about a group of Asians walking by, Karen and I finished our beers and stormed away from Eric on the street. We stopped in the bathroom before hitting the sack. Karen stood in the mirror, hands over her mouth and nose, repeating frantically, "I'm going to punch him in the face."
Yesterday, I went to the bird market in Xian by myself, thinking Karen had went there (since I couldn't find her in the hostel and she said she wanted to go). After a pleasant one hour long stroll, I arrived at the bird market. Walking past the vendors, I contemplated what went into the naming of the market, considering an absence of birds, and an abundance of vegetables. My reasoning was that this is China, and nothing ever makes sense.
I then wandered into a park and sat around, taking in my surroundings. One guy pulled out some type of Chinese violin and started playing beautiful traditional music - not for money, just for fun. I sat there, a smile on my face as I remembered why I don't listen to my iPod whilst exploring abroad. I'd hate to miss a pleasant surprise such as that.
After the park, I walked to East Street in an attempt to find a cinema playing Harry Potter. The woman at the hostel told me there were theatres all up and down that street. Thirty minutes of searching both sides of the street brought me into a run down theatre, which was being turned into the only thing China really needs more of: a shopping mall. I gave up, acknowledging that if I found a theatre, it probably wouldn't be showing Harry Potter - considering when I googled 'Xian Harry Potter,' I got over a dozen stories about book burnings in the city. Even if I was lucky enough to find it, it'd probably be in Chinese. I guess I'll have to wait.
Back at the hostel, I went through the forty videos I've taken on this trip, and marvelled in the thought that St. Petersburg and the Trans-Siberian Railway were still part of this same trip. A nap and a listen to the album 'UN' by Dan Black took up the time until Michael and Karen returned from separate adventures in the Muslim Quarter (for Michael) and a trek along the city wall (for Karen).
We spent the rest of the night inside, planning the end of our tour of China and chatting with Ben the Belgian bartender, baker, and chef, who aspires to be a tour guide.
PS - It's funny to think of all the little decisions and occurrences that lead to such major and influential moments. What if I hadn't sent that text message? Spent an extra five minutes there? What if you didn't go that night?
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