homeland haunts

i've taken to wandering around aimlessly, and today took me to greenwich. on the way, a chinese woman crossed the street to ask me whether i spoke chinese. thinking she needed directions, i said un poco, and she said, well, do you read chinese? and i was like, um, is your map in chinese? she didn't have a map. she had chinese literature that she wanted to give someone...and at first i was sad that i didn't read chinese, b/c i thought maybe she meant journey to the west or something like that, and now i think she meant religious literature, in which case, oh well. do i look like a heathen or something? ppl are always trying to save me. maybe i should carry around some literature of my own. we could swap pamphlets, swing religions. mi dios es su dios?

greenwich market was disappointing. lots of little hippy trinket shops, overpriced and useless. i was hoping for more of a fruit and veg affair, but i did manage to buy a box of kung pao chicken. the man started off speaking chinese to me, so i responded in kind. he was very nice and even threw in free spring rolls, probably b/c he mistook me for a poor, hungry student (and b/c it was already 2pm and his business looked sparse). when he asked me whether winter break was soon, i didn't have the heart to disallusion him, so i said, well, for college, they've already started-- not really a lie--and made off double step with my food. why are my encounters with chinese ppl always so awkward? probably b/c i always have the urge to call them uncle, even though i'm now of an age where i can't.