Friday, February 11, 2011


I was on the Bart to Oakland from San Francisco. I been walking around SF all day long on a class field trip which I eventually ditched to do some exploring on my own (I'll share the photos of this adventure some other time). On the Bart, I got into a heated argument with a stranger sitting next to me on which Asian food was the best. I ranked it as 1. Korean, 2. Chinese, 3. Japanese. The lady being Chinese, ranked it as 1. Chinese, 2. Japanese, 3. Korean, which was a bitch move cause I gave her food 2nd place.
It got so intense that I skipped my stop at West Oakland and we argued until Fruitvale. Seeing no end to the argument, only getting as far as bringing Korean food to #2 on her list, I decided to get off and go home. I was the only one to get off and walked down the stairs to reach the other side when I saw this Chinese man playing the "erhu" or Chinese Violin. The station was completely deserted and it was just me, him, and a fat lady inside the Bart ticket security booth.
The way the light poured into the door was nothing short of amazing. He had these large wrinkled dry hands and I swear I heard them crack as he bent the bow. Even as I stood in front of him, he took no notice and continued to play as if he was alone in the world. The only question I asked was what the instrument was called. Again, he took no notice of my existence and only when the movement came to an end he answered "erhu." I thanked him, gave him some change, and went home, wondering if I'll ever become so dedicated to my passions that I could leave this world whenever I want.

I got home and then remembered I had class and ran back and got in trouble. The end.

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