Hangzhou Nights
I thought I'd have my own room last night, even though I booked a 4 bed dorm room. The three guys I had been sharing with had all gone, having spent their holiday time as well as they could.
We were all friendly with each other, except the unfriendly American, who assumed I was Chinese and adopted a condescending attitude towards the rest of us. I did not choose to enlighten him. Maybe I should be a little concerned about what could be a developing attitude shift towards my countrymen. Of course, maybe this guy was just a dick.
Anyway.
Marjolijn and I got back from dinner at Louwailou, a famous restaurant in Hangzhou -- poor Mike just missed us, being unable to get through to my cell phone -- at about 7:30pm. I dropped a few things off in my room, and noticed with pleasant surprise that the other three beds were empty. Thinking I'd have a nice night of rest on my own, I went on my merry way to the cafe to hang out with Marjo and Mike for a while before bed.
Ten thirty rolls around, so I say my goodnights and trundle upstairs, trailing yawns as I go.
Swipe my card -- beep -- open the door, and a petite Japanese girl with her pants half off gives me a surprised look. There's a moment's uncertain pause. She giggles hesitantly and hops, I assume to dislodge her skinny jeans.
"Uh..." I mumble, and shut the door, then lean against it laughing. After a while the door opens again, and the girl, along with her friend, also laughing, wave me into the room. The room has taken on a distinct atmosphere of shampoo and soap, a pleasant change from the formerly all-pervasive Eau de Dickish American.
I greet the two girls, whose mode of communication with the outside world seems to consist entirely of giggles and the occasional English or Chinese "hello," and I am wholly ignored by a third girl in the bunk above me.
Bemused, I collect my shorts and head off to change for bed. On my return, the third girl, who according to her card is Anna from Shanghai, formerly of Anhui, turns out to be very friendly and fluent in English, which is a nice change. She picks up immediately that I'm not Chinese, and laughs dutifully when I tell her my Chinese gets worse as I get tired.
After some small talk, we exchange cards and she invites me to hang out with her in Shanghai for a few days if I'm in the neighborhood, an offer which I will probably accept in July, long after she's forgotten it.
The girls all slip into their bunks, and I crawl gratefully under my covers too. It's been a long day.
As I'm just starting to drift off in a cloud of floral shampoo and soap scented dreams, the girls murmur wan an -- good night -- and I slip into a happily untroubled sleep, free of being woken by the thunderous farts, snores, belches, and random outbursts of my former male roommates.
I could get used to this.