Souzhou and onwards

I found another friendly hostel. In the morning, I walked out, looking for Souzhou, starting with some street food, that crepe/egg/chili/pickled veg concoction ( a big 3 RMB).  . . . that day, I traveled by foot, bus, pedicab, taxi, canal boat and on the back of a motorscooter. It was degrees. I went to the  garden of Master of the Nets and it was lovely, and nearly empty of people at 8:00. (Later a group of  very loud middle aged women came in but luckily they immediately repaired to the tearoom.) There was little in the way of flowering plants, but many flavors of green. This garden had more forms-- shapes, colors, heights, and densities of bamboo than I have ever seen.  It was unclear how they kept them from being rampant, since there were other small scale weeds including our favorite, ailanthus. Also local variety of plantain., smaller, and other more or less familiar ones. It was very peaceful and because of landscaping like a giant rock garden, with mountains, caves, and paths between stony walls. of big porous rocks, there were generally limited vistas and the feeling of isolation and intimacy, except a few colonnades and pavilions around the edges.

There was a lovely, very still pool with carp with very long tails that sashayed like silk scarves as they trailed through the water. Because the water was so still, the reflection was very clear.

Gazing at the surface of the still water dotted with fallen leaves;--the leaves break up the reflection that would otherwise be perfect since the water is so still. In fact, they signify the surface reflection as unique rather than the same as the sky it reflects.

Chinese water features do not move, they just sit limpidly, except when the sometimes huge (don't stick your hand in the water) carp are swarming.No sparkle and no sound. Interesting, since I think waterfalls and cascades are featured in the artwork. In Shanghai, a city that to me screams for public fountains, the only ones I saw were glitzy ultramodern things in front of new office buildings, and then only a few.

The Garden of the Humble Administrator seemed to be the real tourist draw and had a pedestrian street leading up to it-- a street of souvenir hawkers selling: a silk chemise with an 18"square rendition in full color of Sponge Bob Square Pants; t-shirts saying, "UCLA 1938/Increase remittances", and  "I'm Captain Santa, Come join me on Santa Island!"; and a man who made clay busts about fist-sized on the spot, that were very accurate. And 100 yards of tourist junk and oddly flavored Popsicles.
The Humble Administrator's Garden was more flat and more crowded with picnicking families, and included beds of begonias and the fragrance of ailanthus, with cicadas cranking up the heat. And though it is studded with "Pavilions of Quiet Breezes" and "Moon in a Mist" and so on, they don't really have benches. So between that and the heat, I didn't do any painting or drawing in situ. 

This place was more flat. It had more and larger water features. As ever, I was at a disadvantage since the feng shui and significance of the arrangements and choices made in the garden design were out of my reach. It seemed to have more big spaces, fewer intimate ones.
 In one pavilion, there were slices of agate with patterns and a few inscribed lines added to form landscapes; and the buildings had a variety of patterned screens. There was also a pavilion with pictures of dignitaries who had visited the garden, including Roslyn and Jimmie Carter, many Englishmen and women who looked comically British, with Pythonesque teeth and ears. And a number of other dignitaries posing with Chinese counterparts. The later ones, the last 10 years or so, look weirdly Photoshopped, lacking necks and heads too big or small.

In my various travels, my language impairment is getting progressively more severe—Waynesboro, Spain, Italy, China. I was hoping to start using more Mandarin independently once on my own, but. I somehow managed to leave most of my books and flashcards at home. And I sort of managed to communicate basic needs by miming, pointing, use of visuals like maps, quick sketches and so on, planning ahead what I wanted to communicate and how I would do it for things beyond obvious choices. I found that beyond a couple of words in a row, and my listeners didn't understand me anyway, so I used a word or two and the other supports. Interesting to have a severe communication impairment; but confidence that I could get my main ideas across. 
Generally, Chinese are very eager to find a way to communicate, though sometimes they laugh or throw up their hands. There are fewer people than I expected wanting to try English with me. The occasional school kid will say 'Hi'; but not much beyond that.
I have figured out how to communicate with drivers (using a map; but not all can read maps) and in restaurants, by pointing and saying a few words. Water is not automatic in restaurants. Sometimes when you ask for tea, you get hot water. There are all kinds of strange, to me, and unidentifiable snacks and drinks. But coffee is hard to come by, and not served with milk. But I didn't come here to be in America.

I visited the Silk Museum in Souzhou: I think I was the only one there. It had many exhibits of silk, silk brocades from the distant past to the near present; including from the Tang Dynasty in the ninth century, a pattern with ducks holding ribbons, a precursor of the goose with ribbon around neck meme of a few years ago! 
There were cocoons, spindles, and people working a brocade loom and a tapestry loom; some brocade looms were huge things with 2 people operating and 4 or more...not shuttles but the part that picks up the woof (?) long threads so the shuttle can go through, each one changing the pattern of lifted threads to make the woven pattern. Are these things eastern or western or both? One woman was making a weaving that was copied from pictures, not a repeating pattern, in somewhat the way kilims are made; she wove in just  the amount of, say, black, she needed for the tree trunk. There was a garden of heavily pruned mulberry trees, and a model house of a silkworm processor. The museum did not address dying or other color pattern things like batik, ikat, etc.  
On the way out, a tout invited me to visit a silk store. It turned out to be a silk quilt factory. I saw rows of steel bobbiny/spindley things for unrolling the fibers from the cocoons poised above a water bath with cocoons floating it, and a bunch of workers in a corner, taking a break. Around the corner was a woman who opened each cocoon, dumped the pupa, and stretched the cocoon fibers over a frame the size of two feet together, or three outstretched hands. She made ten layers, making a 'sock' of silk felt which was stretchy and strong and silky. They actually make quilts filled with this stuff. With cotton covers.  I am sure they are very warm and light, and I know they are expensive! I rode home on the back of a motorbike, after some negotiation. (At least I can do numbers fairly fluently in Mandarin!)

Souzhou does have a quaint old section with canals separating the houses. There are frequent bridges so not all movement has to be in a boat. I saw one boat on cleanup patrol. These canals were not stinky despite the hot, hot weather.