Morning in Chinatown

I took a left out of the front door of my hotel this morning.

I had awakened early again and, after a quick breakfast with my friend, Mike D., decided to enjoy my 1/2 day off from the conference by walking over to Starbucks for a Venti Peppermint Mocha. There was a line so long that the last person in line had his butt squashed up against the door, so I decided not to add myself to that line, first of all so butt-man didn't go tumbing out onto the sidewalk, but secondly I feel like a person standing in the open doorway completely disturbs the Feng Shui of a place--even a Starbucks.

The Union Square area where I am staying is beautifully decorated for Christmas--red-ribboned trees and golden lights everywhere. Walking around this city is a nice treat, because in Dallas everything is so spread out that the only walking is from you house to your car, from the parking lot to the stores, etc. I've heard it said about ten times in the last few days that "San Francisco is a great walking town!" I guess it must be so--the cab lines are about twenty minutes of waiting time, so you might as well just walk to where you are going. As cosmopolitan as it is, it took me a couple of days to get used to the constant barrage of oddities encountered on the sidewalks--I think the pandhandlers spread out at least 10 feet from each other, and it's like running a gauntlet to get through them. There are tons of grizzled, homeless people pushing carts, sitting on crates, and all around just looking raggedy and crazy. It's a little alarming. Traffic crawls around the stilted streets and an occasional bus goes crackling by, powered by ubiquitous overhead power lines. Cable cars, outfitted with garlands and bows, ding their bells and add to the atmosphere.

So this morning I saw the butt in the window at Starbucks and decided to keep on walking in my uncaffeinated state. Pretty soon, I was away from the hustle and bustle of the fancy part of town, and saw the gates of Chinatown in front of me. Intrigued, I went on through into the light shadows and ornate colors.

The morning was very crisp and gray today, with temperatures in the 50's and overcast skies. Rounding a corner, I realized that I probably wasn't dressed warmly enough, but was determined to keep going for a while.

Chinatown was just waking up. I walked passed gated stores, restaurants, and shops, stepping on Chinese-lettered brown cardboard boxes that had been flattened and stacked against the curb. A man stood hosing down the sidewalk in front of his shop--he stopped the water as I walked by and started it up again when I had passed. An older woman didn't appear to even notice me as she was using a pole with a hook to hang silk blouses vertically along the sides of her clothing store, and a man in a beige ballcap suspiciously eyed me walking by as he slowly smoked a cigarette. I felt a little self-conscious about intruding on the peace of the neighborhood, almost like I got to a Broadway show while they were still putting out the props.

A restaurant had long ago posted 8x10 color photographs of entrees across the front entrance--these had long faded and now appeared to be quite unappetizing. I had to laugh to see an Asian-style building ornately decorated with red and gold, then upon closer inspection I realized it was a Bank of America. I kept walking past several shops with tables full of jade carvings, beaded necklaces, gold bracelets, and Chinese plates and teacups. I had a few dollars in my pocket which I was willing to spend on a little something if I saw something I liked, but somehow nothing persuaded me to break from my silent walk through the neighborhood.

A few of other tourists passed me going the opposite direction--I laughed at a couple of them in my own mind for being such nerds--they were still wearing their conference name badges even though they were miles away from the convention center. Another huge man, who was nearly seven feet tall, was walking loosely toward me in slacks and a blue dress shirt that was slightly untucked. He swung his arms like a gorilla and his head bounced around on his neck like a bobble-head doll--he looked very odd, like he might stumble to the ground at any moment.

At the base of a hill, I stopped and decided to turn around and go back. Stopping at a couple of windows, I spotted some bootleg DVD's and a store full of shiny China figurines that were really very nice--not nice enough for me to go inside and inquire about the price, though. Besides, Asian art, as much as I sincerely like it, doesn't really go with our home decor . A display of golden Buddhas nested in an uneven circle caught my eye.

On the other side of the street I spied a store full of cream-colored silk linens, lined in black--they were displayed very beautifully across the wall. Next door was a storefront advertising Psychic Readings--a young girl came out with a trashcan, set a bag in the street, and turned around to go back in. I thought to myself, If you can read my mind, turn around and look at me. But no. Maybe she was the psychic's assistant.

Rounding the corner and going back up Sutter street toward my hotel, I really regretted not bringing my camera on my walk with me--words don't really do the experience justice, and I've already forgotten about half of what I came across on the walk. But for an hour or so I had invaded another world, leaving it quietly again without making a mark on it. Maybe I'll go back later when the show is all set up and ready to receive me.