Wanna Wonton?

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>>>This entry was posted later because the wireless was down last night<<<
There’s an elderly woman who has a morning routine of walking around in the park around the hostel and warming up her vocal cords. She does this by screeching/yelling repeatedly at the top of her lungs. I wonder how/why she decided she ought to do that. Maybe it’s an old family secret. Maybe it’s what she considers to be the reason for her good health. Maybe it just feels good. Maybe all of the above, or something entirely different.
The highlight of today was swimming. There were some pretty good waves, and I only got a little sunburn. I also bought some Laoshan green tea. This is the kind of tea that’s unique to this area because it grows near Laoshan, which is a mountain close to here.
I was sitting down on a bench-like ledge on the sidewalk today, putting something I had just bought in my purse so I wouldn’t have to carry an extra bag. A grandmotherly type came up and started telling me to be careful because it was windy. Everything important that could have potentially blown away was securely zipped in a pocket.
Besides seafood, a popular dish around here is huntun—wontons, if you’re going for the Westernized spelling. It seems to be a completely different experience than the mild-mannered soup I remember from Chinese restaurants in the US. Today I had a huge bowlful, with spices, parsley (enough to add a fresh kick) shredded carrots, what I’m guessing was shredded cucumber or something related, and maybe 15-20 little wontons. The temperature was burn-your-mouth hot, and the broth was red with spices—perfection in a bowl.
Today the dorm room filled up. A couple arrived. They seem content to keep to their own French-speaking selves. In other news around the hostel, there was a “BBQ and Beer Party.” For a while, the staff was a flurry of activity getting ready for it. Once it got started, I found out that by “party,” they meant “way to get as much money as possible out of guests.” There were better deals to be had out on the street. But I guess at least there was an event, unlike the supposed “Jiaozi Party” at the last hostel.

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