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Published: October 8th 2007
(Title sung to the tune of “Bye Bye Baby” by Ok Go)
The Yuyuan Gardens open at 8:30, and Lonely Planet, Fodor’s and friends all warned us to get there early to beat the tourist rush. We dragged ourselves out of bed and were assembled en masse by 7:30 to catch our cabs. We wound our way through the labyrinthine bazaar surrounding the garden, paid our admission and stepped into the peaceful garden.
It was worth it to get their right at they opened. We had a few blissful moments of serene exploration and contemplation before the throngs of tourists showed up. We later realized that we had entered through the back entrance, rather than the main entrance, so that bought us a few extra minutes. I have always been captivated by the placid perfection of Chinese gardens. Each nook and cranny affords you a new view, a fresh moment, and a rebirth of spirit. The natural elements of rock, tree and water mingle with the manmade bridges, gates and buildings. A fan of both sauntering and sitting, I did my fair share of both. While I could still amble along the shady paths, I canvassed the grounds. Once
each narrow laneway was clogged with tourists, Katie and I sat on a cool rock for a meaningful and heartfelt conversation.
One of the biggest realizations I had while musing in the garden was the difference between a “traveler” and a “tourist”. Though both are visitors to a new place, they experience it in different ways. My mother put it perfectly when she said, “A traveler is at home in the world and a tourist is just trying to see as much as they can to check it off their list and move on to the next thing.” I have a growing frustration with tourists and an enhanced appreciation for travelers. Travelers blaze their own path. They meet the locals. They pause to
experience the moment, not just capture it on film.
People must have HATED us on Asian Term. Not only were we a massive group clogging up gardens and flooding museums, but we were invincible, obnoxious American college students. Now, many of us were travelers in our own right, but many were not. I distinctly remember a young lady on our trip who insisted that the waitress would understand her if she shouted and over-enunciated, “DI-ET
COKE!” Even those of us who abandoned all things familiar and threw ourselves into the foreign cultures couldn’t help but be a part of the beast when we were escorted from sight to sight as a mob. I had the time of my life and I am extremely grateful for every rice field, temple, shrine, scroll, and bit of terraced landscape that we saw along the way. I just have a new appreciation for anyone who was caught in our wake…
After leaving the garden we headed back out into the bazaar area for some food and browsing. I saw someone sipping on a soup dumpling and I HAD to try one. After all, Anthony Bourdain had sampled one while he was in Shanghai. After nearly scalding my tongue on the boiling soup, we split up to surf the shops a little easier. I got to see a little bit of a shadow puppet show and I even bought a puppet of my own in the shape of (you guessed it) a dragon.
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K. Mac
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I did the same peeking thing just today around a mushroom rock at Yeliou!