Every once in a while, I will run into a Chinese in this town, maybe one a year, if that. But so far, only one or two speak Cantonese. Last night, when I heard someone speak Cantonese in our local Japanese-sushi restaurant(Fugu Tei), I paid a lot of attention; so much so that the waiter came along and ask what do I want? I told him how happy I am to run into some Chinese. As the conversation went along, we found out that the Chef-Uncle had grown up in the same small fishing village we had lived in, but the he had left 20 years ago. And the waiter lived just a few blocks from where I grew up in the small town of Tai Po. We exchanged the name of our most favorite local restaurants back then and so forth ... ...
I know that for some people, it may be no big deal to run into someone who speaks your mother tongue, and who is from your own home town. To me, though, it means a lot.
Monday, August 13, 2007
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