One of the treasures of living in the city is the glory of traversing Canal Street. Entering Chinatown is like entering into a new being, a new personality. Among the immigrant red and green and gold I am the white devil, the outsider, the foreigner with a strange tongue, hovering about the city with a stupid conquering grin like Marco Polo.
Chinatown is the only place where I am Tall. The many years of harsh life have squatted these people to the ground. I tell the humble beings stories of how my fingers caress the stars, and my eyes can see the toes of God.
Which is probably why every time I return, old women take off their shoes and rub their corns on me.
They've a very superstitious folk.
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