there is a beautiful hindu temple right next to the hotel, just before you reach the park and the bus stop on pearl hill. when i arrived, last sunday, there were so many birds, many, many birds, black ones with yellow beaks, flying around the spires, and crapping at the beautiful gods and goddesses!
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the jealousy of the older,although also extremely striking, chinese woman was so apparent when she was faced with a much younger version of herself, whose world still looms large and unexplored in front of her. it was a rather disturbing sensation, seeing how the emotion was so plain and open, and almost raw, across the older chinese woman's face. all of a sudden, the lines around her eyes became visible, her deep brown irises dulled. almost from out of nowhere, and rather comically, an awkward bony hand went up to her hair to fluff it out and and pat it into place, fluff it out and then pat it into place again, and again.
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oh, but the change in light and atmosphere here is so subtle as to be dramatic: within the hour a cool breeze starts to blow from the south; the light softens and spreads out evenly, casting a sheer cream-colored veil of incandescence over people's faces.
1 comment:
the sight of birds - reminds me so much of the Soprano's very 1st episode, T feeding the migratory birds finding transient shelter in his backyard.
much of your travelogue.....
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