To Chinatown, My home away from home. The heart of my childhood. When I’m away from you I miss all the little things I’ve taken for granted. I miss your vibrance: the way the lanterns strung above the street light the path between your restaurants that stand juxtaposed with your bakeries. The smell of the freshly cooked meat hung by the windows made to entice passersby escaping through the cracks of the vents. The chefs cook rhythmically with unchanging precision while the steam fogs up the glass. Meanwhile, the bakery at the corner of your block displays rows of breads and cakes for all to marvel at. Take your pick between sweet and savory: breads filled to the brim with egg custard, coconut cream, or maybe even red bean paste, while half are filled with curry or char siu (Chinese BBQ pork). I miss the sound of Cantonese that filled your air; the way conversations would leave no corner feeling empty. The way it had the capacity to fill open areas like the park where all the elderly Chinese people would go to gossip over their games of mahjong and Chinese poker. I miss the refreshing taste of bubble tea that was able to satisfy my addiction: fruity or milky tea with different jellies, pudding, or tapioca toppings to choose from. I loved how easily I could plan meetups with friends by simply mentioning bubble tea and just walk around with them for hours. I love it when the summer is in full swing and they block off the alley on Doyer St. so that the brightly painted street doubles as outdoor seating. I love that the shade of your buildings blocking out the afternoon sun provides great relief from the sweltering heat. But what’s most memorable is the way your street mural illuminates and emanates the warmth and comfort of this hidden corner at the peak of noon. I miss celebrating Lunar New Year on your streets during the chilly days of the early months of the year. Confetti covers every corner and crevice it can find its way into to the point where I can no longer see the dark asphalt and concrete of the path below my feet. Streamers that were popped into the air find themselves dangling from light posts, fire escapes, and electrical wires, making everywhere I look an explosion of colors. All the while, drums can be heard in every direction I go; all following their own beat, yet matching the one of my heart. Cymbals clash within the sounds of the crowd, complementing the deep resonating sounds of the drums. Different lion dance groups wander through the crowds and weave their way through each other as they go in and out of your stores. Various performances take place a few feet apart from one another and yet they don’t clash, each maintaining their individual presences as their perfected choreography is presented to the anticipating onlookers. Large ornate lion puppets adorn at least four colors patterned with fluffy trims that catch the eyes of many. For many, witnessing all these stimuli at once may be overwhelming, but I thrive in it. The elation that bubbles up within me can only be likened to pure childish excitement. All these things—small or big, individual or combined—are a source of genuine happiness for me and though it is difficult to verbalize, I’ve tried and will continue to try my best. The warmth and giddiness I feel when I think about all the experiences I’ve had and the many more I will have are indescribable yet within reach. The sadness I’ve felt about the way COVID-19 has ripped into you is excruciating. But I know that the strength and resilience of your people can withstand the harsh adversities and restore you full of life once again. So until then, I will continue to think fondly of and share with others the beauty that I see and feel about you.
With overwhelming love, Kaysie Liang
Vol. XLII, Issue I 7 Photo from Ludwig Favre
