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| Chinatown |
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| The Mission |
Last Sunday after lunch Dancing Jen and I were walking in Chinatown and god,
I do love that place. Even with wall-to-wall tourists this is such a wonderful
foreign land. The shop windows show items that we used to sell at the museum
stores, but for about one third of the price. There are smells of fish and noodles
and spices that I can’t identify.
When I worked at Borders (Post and Powell) I would walk in Chinatown about
once a week. I like being places where people don’t speak English. I feel the
same way about my Mission District and although it is gentrifying I can still
walk for many blocks and hear only Spanish. And here one smells that distinct
sizzling beef odor, mixed with onions and garlic ~ all ready to plop into a burrito.
On Sundays in the Mission the Latino families go out to eat. Maybe after church?
They dress, especially the little girls with their sparkle shoes and fluffy dresses.
Bows in their hair. I can feel their excitement as they go into restaurants that are
practically empty during the week. Even the smallest restaurant that I never pay
any attention to is jam packed on Sunday. Happiness abounds.
