Time travel

 

Yesterday my eldest daughter and I were tourists in our own town of NYC. We visited busy colorful Chinatown in Manhattan. Paper lanterns strung high above the street, fire escape to fire escape of pink, yellow, blue and red mingled with Christmas lights. We parked in an expensive garage because there is no parking on those very narrow streets especially with wood kiosks for the local restaurants taking up parking spaces in the street.  

We went to the shops with traditional Asian art, statues, fake jade necklaces and mala beads, swords, incense and wooden altars to the Buddha. Overpriced but beautiful none the less. Then off to the three blocks that is now Little Italy. Random people selling fake name brand purses and wallets get in your face quite aggressively to get your attention.  Tons of slow-moving traffic to and from the Manhattan Bridge.  

On the way we picked up unusual vegetables and fruits that we never saw before and don’t know their names.  

After a lot of shopping, stopping at the bakery and Chinese herbal store and picture taking we finally ended in a Cantonese restaurant. It is here that I was transported back to the third grade. 

In public school we went on many different class trips: museums, parks, zoos, aquarium and wonderful Chinatown. I was transported back in time and remembered sitting in a restaurant with my class as we were served chow mien that the teachers ordered for us.  

And there they were next to the forks and spoons: chopsticks. I was fascinated. At the risk of being laughed at and judged I asked for a demonstration on how to use them. The teachers did not know how to use them. The waiter graciously showed me how to hold them and pick up food.   

My third-grade fingers fumbled but I kept trying. I ate most of my lunch with those cheap wooden chopsticks and ended up with lots of rice on my shirt. I did not give up. I felt accomplished and quite satisfied with my new skill.  

Back to the Cantonese restaurant with my daughter, I still use chopsticks when eating Asian food. It feels traditional, it feels right and eating with chopsticks comes quite naturally for me. I always get compliments from my Asian acquaintances that I use chopsticks like I grew up with them. They don’t know it but I did grow up using chopsticks.  

I think back and I am so proud of that little girl who was so brave to try a new skill of eating with chopsticks.  I look at my adult self now and I am so lucky to be an expert chopstick user just like I grew up to use.  

 

Georgia