A Chinese Alley

While relaxing on board the junk, on my way to the Isle of Ancestors, I thought about a place I visited so long ago. A place and a picture that is etched in my memory.

A Chinese Alley

While reflecting on this Chinese New Year, the Year of the Dog, I recall, when living in San Francisco, how I used to prowl around Chinatown with a camera. Being, at that time, far less security conscious than I am now, I would seek out the alleys and odd corners—places that did not attract the tourists.

I did not see a soul that evening as I entered and prowled an alley where, when I stopped to listen, voices speaking in Chinese could be heard through open doors. I was a predator … my prey: images of a culture—a foreign culture embedded within this beautiful American city, in which I lived at the time.

I remember one image, one evening in particular. I entered an alley, one that would be typically thought of as a perfect setting for Tong War activity. Mind you, this was in the mid nineteen fifties, a long time ago. The blackened, uneven brick walls of buildings towered on each side, coming together at the top to keep the sunlight or moonlight at bay. A faded wooden sign hung over one of the doors—a message to those who could read the language. I could not understand its message, but I could appreciate it because of the artistry, the design of the Chinese written language.

Later, at home, when I processed the image in black and white, I was delighted to see that I had captured the essence of the place. It was a picture I treasured and kept safely for many, many years. Unfortunately, in a recent move, a batch of my pictures disappeared, my Chinese Alley image among them. I cannot go back and recapture what I saw that evening, because even if I could physically do so, I would consider it foolhardy. Our living in such a security minded world has, in my personal opinion, strangulated our desire for small adventures as it has our larger ones. Even if I summoned up the courage to enter that alley again, I don’t believe I could ever recapture the ambience of place that I did that evening so long ago.

Looking back from this place in time, I can, even without the picture in front of me, transport myself back to that timeless alley and experience again, all its sounds and smells. It is indeed a flicker of the magic lantern of my life—a life made up of thousands upon thousands of fleeting flickers that are stored away in the filing cabinet of my mind.

I wish you all a Happy and Prosperous Chinese Year of the Dog.

Coincidentally, I saw last evening on the news where they are teaching childen to speak and to write Chinese. This is happening in some of our schools. I hope more will take it up. The children seem to be delighted and are accepting the challenges of the language with enthusiasm. What better way to bring East and West together. I envy their opportunity.

Vi
January 28, 2006