Thursday, 25 December 2008
5 December 2008
On the TTC. I got on the TTC at St. Clair Station, heading north. As I had just finished a choir rehearsal, I pulled out my music to review what we've done. An old Chinese man of about 80 years or older sat diagonally across from me with a big suitcase beside him. He had pointy ears and wore very round plastic glasses. He is either not well off or of the mentality that anything can be fixed because the sides of his glasses were held together by clear tape. He was wearing a dark raincoat with the words "raincoat" in Chinese written on the back.
He asked me in English: "Chinese?" I nodded, thinking that he was lost and needed help. His Mandarin accent was extremely heavy and I thought at first he was asking me about my music. I opened the score for him, pointed at the text, and said: "Latin." Obviously that was the wrong answer because he shook his head and continued talking. Finally I realized he was telling me to go to some Chinese dance performance. I think he tried to get me to buy tickets from him but I politely declined and said that January will be a busy month for me.
He then pulls out a small, yellow-orange book from his suitcase. He opens it to the front page, where there was a photo of a rather normal-looking man in a dark suit. But the photo itself looked odd, as in the too-many-flowers-in-the-background propaganda kind of odd. He continues talking. He then flips to the 2nd page of the book where there were many Buddhist symbols. My ears, working hard to strip away his heavy accent, think he's talking about heaven and hell. And yes indeedy, he was talking about heaven and hell because he then tried to get me to join the Falun Gong.
4 December 2008
Queen Street, Toronto. Mother showing daughter the wonders of the Bay's Christmas window.
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