Sunday, October 9th, Day 24
I’ve made Sunday my cleaning day. I washed bed sheets, pillowcases, towel, clothes, swept and damp-mopped floors, cleaned the kitchen, hung things out to dry, and cleaned out the refrigerator (water accumulates on the bottom).
Other than that, I don’t remember what I did. I stayed in the apartment, read web pages about China, Mandarin, Chengdu, Chinese cooking, etc.
Don’t remember if this was the day that the woman in the apartment above me was sobbing. It was unsettling. She was doing some serious sobbing. I felt helpless. I was in no position to help, even if she wanted help. I don’t speak the language, don’t understand the culture, and am vulnerable to great misunderstandings, including things like police interviews and question like, “Why were you knocking on this woman’s door?”
It’s a choice I make while traveling. I just can’t be as helpful as I am in the U.S. I don’t like it, but I live with it. I got my guitar out and played quiet, relaxing music with my widow open, just in case it might help. That’s the best I can do. And even that intention might be perceived as, “The jerk downstairs heard me crying, so turned it off by playing music so he couldn’t hear me!” So it goes…