Today was an interesting day. It was drizzling and I put my raincoat on, grabbed the faux leopard skin umbrella I bought for $1.89 and wandered the streets.
Most days I am constantly stared at. Most days it doesn’t bother me; I revel in the commotion I cause just in the passing. Most days I smile and provoke shy giggles. Most days I have fun with it. I am a rare foreigner, an instant celebrity, a curiosity, monstrosity, grounded alien, albino white cloud, star child, blue-eyed devil, and everything their parents have ever warned them about. I catch everyone off guard by not living up to the billing, by being alluringly friendly, though totally nonthreatening, a smiling buffoon well aware that I am like a child, no wait—a child knows more than I do—I am more like a helpless idiot, and so I grin foolishly and in this way try to solicit their assistance and sympathy. It generally works as I have found that the Chinese people are good humored and helpful and gregarious, and it is only the preprogrammed xenophobic whispers I have to overcome, warning-caution-caution-caution, like a whistling psychic R2D2 robot smoking crack. So anyway, today I wandered about pulling down the umbrella so that I was anonymous, and that felt good, seeing only twenty or so feet in front of me, a world shrunk to approaching legs and feet on shiny wet sidewalks, reduced to puddles and thoughts, puddles and thoughts, when suddenly I felt a tapping on my umbrella. It was a smiling woman saying, “Why are you hiding? People want to see you. How to say—please to give us your face. We welcome it. Thank you so much.” And so my cover was blown, my moment of presumed anoniminity dissolving in the rain, her smile indulgent and encouraging at the same time as she said goodbye and walked on, with me again smiling foolishly as an old man came up and said, “Hello, how do you do? How do you do?” And not waiting for an answer he beamed at his own cleverness and walked off as the rain came down harder. Sufficiently chastened, instead of burying myself under my umbrella, I raised it up and smiled at all the approaching multitudes, including the scowling laowai (foreigner) haters and the occasional police who smiled back, automatically, without reservation, probably knowing my cheap umbrella would soon collapse and leave me soaked and sodden and clownishly exposed to the uproarious and tear-jerking merriment of the people. I live to serve under the buffoon moon. It is all so unlikely I am constantly delighted. I am Kwai Chang Caine. Kung Fu, do you remember?
6 Comments
5/23/2012 04:54:57 am
Nice story, I get the part of being humble in another persons country. It begins to chip away at the bounds of ego.
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5/26/2012 12:06:16 am
Ni how ma!!! Mike, I am sending you a pair of blue suede shoes!!! Shiea Shiea for this great website!!! Al
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Mary & Michael
5/23/2012 05:27:48 am
I love how you wrote about the rain it felt like I was walking with you so clever and descriptive great narritive especially the lady who wouldn't let you hide...so good for you..show us your face pleased to see it...it is a gift to be very proud of....love ya M&M
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Jude Lyon
5/23/2012 12:37:46 pm
Oh my. Beautiful writing. More than that - eloquent and real. The photos, lost..amazing and charming. Eee gads, I'm in love...again! Thank you, Mike...I'm IN...tell me more, baby! Fun! What a pen...
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Lori
5/24/2012 02:45:15 am
Thanks for sharing! I look forward to experiencing your journey with you, As always, brilliant writing!
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moonmadman
6/1/2012 12:54:50 am
ni hao mi amigo; thank you for
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