learn to play the erhu

I just plodded around Guangzhou for the entire day trying to find an erhu. I asked some college students for a recommendation, so I went to Tianhe, but there weren’t any erhus there. I asked an old Guangzhouer for a recommendation, so I went to Beijing Lu, but there weren’t any erhus there either. Finally I found a store by asking an old man on the street – he couldn’t speak Mandarin so he wrote the directions down for me on a piece of paper.

The guys at the music store tried to talk me into getting a $40 model, but I went for the cheaper one… mainly because I can always get a better one if I actually turn out to be pretty good. I also got an introductory guide book in Chinese, and when I asked for a recommendation for a teacher they tried to call to find one for me, but it was a no go. I plan on finding a teacher next week.

I lugged the boxed erhu home, set it up, and then promptly cut the 千斤 because I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do. When I realized that’s not right I tied the string back on… but I’m afraid I ruined my erhu in the first five minutes of taking it out of the box.

I heard the erhu for the first time when I was twelve: I was walking through the botanical garden in Montreal and when I entered the Chinese garden I was walked into a graceful world of beautiful architecture and tranquil ponds, where the plants were beautiful but understated. Permeating the entire environment was an amazingly soulful sound – one that I knew must come from a stringed instrument but I imagined came from the vibrations of a lover’s heart. I found the erhu player sitting under the eaves of a Buddhist temple, and I sat transfixed.

I bought a CD that night and listened to it constantly. I bought more over the years, I learned how to say the name of the instrument, and I learned Chinese. Now I’m in China, and when I go down the street I occasionally hear that same plaintive sound that whisks me back from the bustling Chinese streets to the peaceful walkways of the garden. The erhu embodies the mystique, the grace, and the wonder of Chinese culture for me… and I want to hold on to what I can of it.