It's funny that no one chooses Chengdu. There's nothing shabby about it. It’s humid and the food is spicy. Across from this incense-thick Taoist monastery, I once ate something I could not identify. As far as a companion and I could make out, it was a dish of horse tendons. Transparent. Apologies to the vegetarians. The people of Sichuan were very friendly. A woman walked through a public garden in the early mornings, ladling night soil on the bushes. It was weird and wonderful. I loved all unamerica.
2 comments:
What an incredible blog entry! The photo, your words, and the beautiful poem! Thanks for sharing it all!
thanks lauren - that's nice of you.
say, did you get your jane kenyon book?
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