PRESENTATION OUTLINE
Walking down a typical Chinese road, loud and insanely full of people. Amidst all the chaos and commotion I stumble across a calm, serenely peaceful old woman, sitting quietly on the side of a curb. Fascinated that she could remain so calm with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded her, my mind raced with questions to ask, eagerly wanting to know how she maintained her inner peace. She didn’t make eye contact, just gazed at her surroundings and the people who passed her. I was eager to approach her, but she stood suddenly and shuffled towards a little shop at the corner. I waited a good 15 minutes for her to come out before succumbing to the heat and heading to the shop next door for some iced bubble tea. It was a hot, humid day, in the middle of July and my pores were crying.
The tea helped. After refreshing myself I made my way to her shop and entered. It smelled musky and of stale cigarettes. The odor of sour cardboard boxes invaded my nostrils. I looked around, squinting my eyes so that no dust particles would go in. The shop was fairly dark, with food and drinks crowded onto shelves, their appearance seemingly long past their expiration date. I opened the fridge, no electricity. Then I saw the woman lying on a raised platform that evidently doubled as a day bed, in fetal position. I approached her cautiously. Her head raised slowly and our eyes finally met.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a Chinese accent. Surprised that she spoke English I stumbled on my response, rambling “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions, you see, I saw you on the road around half an hour ago and I immediately felt obliged to ask you a few questions. I don't know why, I guess for me, you stand out a bit”.
She arched her right eyebrow and retorted suspiciously, “Why do you want to ask me questions?”
“I’m working on a school project to interview a few local people in this area.”
“Wait, I don't understand…” she mutters in an annoyed voice.
“Let me show you some examples of some interviews I have already conducted,” I said, pulling out my Canon camera from my backpack. She stands slowly and looks at the screen, her eyes widening in interest. I show her a video of a young man with his father collecting plastic bottles, and then another of a young woman making handmade animals from small sticks. “Ah, I see,” she says, slowly nodding her head, “what do you need me to do?”
Ten minutes later we were back on that hectic road. The scenery and lighting was perfect. She was casually smoking a cigarette. Her expression as calm as it had been before. “Could you explain a little about your past and how you ended up living here?” Add the silhouette part??
“Ok, ok” she chuckled. It was nice to see her laugh. I stared recording. She told me about her mother and father, about her younger sister who had died four years ago in an accident, about her father’s cancer and her mother having to work so hard to get enough money for his medical bills.
She started crying, and explained that when her father died and her mother shortly after, the only thing she had to remember them was a blue blouse with light pink flowers that her mother had once made for her and a yellow cigarette lighter which her father had given to her once when he had tried to stop smoking. I stopped the video. “Thank you,” I said sympathetically, “for telling me your story.” She smiled, yet I saw that the death of her sister and parents still haunted her. I understood then that this was the peace and calm I had wrongly interpreted when I had first laid eyes on her.
“Let’s go and find something to eat, shall we?” I proposed. Food always made me happier and I wanted to share some joy with this old woman. She nodded and stood quietly. We made our way across the busy street and into the evening market. The delicious aromas of fried rice and noodles made my mouth water and both our stomachs grumbled. We ordered together with her chuckling again at my poor Chinese accent. Halfway through our feast I looked at my new friend, her face full of chili sauce. This time I chuckled. She looked up from her bowl with a twinkle in her eye, chopsticks in hand, and said, “thank you.”
“For what?”
“Listening.”
