Man, it's been almost three weeks since I posted, I've barely tweeted, I missed at least three of my favorite reality shows.
Bad me, neglecting my public forums.
But it wasn't because I wasn't busy. I've been doing all kinds of stuff ... no, not playing in eels. Though that sounds gruesomely cool, doesn't it. Slimy, cold, maybe electric. Loads of fun.
Anyway, my daughter Lauren is taking an anthology class, and her instructor told everyone that they had to taste another culture by exploring Greektown or China Town in Chicago. So Lauren grabbed her favorite travel buddy ... me ... and we took off for Chicago.
Even though I've lived within forty miles of China Town for better than twenty years, I've never been there, so it was a great new experience for me (I think Lauren enjoyed it, too, but this is all about me, so let's continue on about me).
I'm not going to talk about everything we saw, but I am going to talk about one thing in particular.
The grocery store.
You see, China Town isn't just a tourist destination, it's a place where Asians live, love and die. But you can't learn about them by eating at a restaurant, or browsing through a souvenir shop, or taking pictures of the architecture.
You go where they shop for their own food.
Fortunately, there was a grocery store right in the vicinity, so with excitement, we slid into the small store, packed with tight isles with strange containers bearing strange markings, unknown dried something's freezer packed and neatly arranged in incomprehensible rows. But the coolest part was the meat area, where there were barrels of live eels, live turtles, exotic fish, and other stuff I didn't dare question
There wasn't an American thing in sight, even the newspapers were Chinese.
But it was the best way we could have experienced their culture, and I had a blast. I assume Lauren did, too, but, remember, it's about me ... and the eels.
Norm
www.normcowie.com
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