China Town

Lunch at a little dumpling restaurant 

"What do you want to see in New York?" My sister asked as we swept through the streets of Manhattan.

"China Town," I replied, with the first thing that came to mind. Honestly just being in New York made my spring break. What I saw wasn't so important. Hours later I was slurping noodles and drinking bubble tea.

Leaving the subway station I found myself two blocks from a world within a world. China town was a world in itself. 

As far as I could see, Chinese people crowded the busy streets: young men dressed in fashionable clothing darting through the crowd, old women so tiny their scarves touched the sidewalk, and little babies wrapped in slings.  

My sister led the way past carts of fresh vegetables, and raw fish, and stores where the scent of a seashore seeped through the doorway. The buildings were just as crammed as any street in New York, but each stood out from the next with bricks of bright colors and shiny brass fire escapes hanging outside the windows. 

We came to a park where a man was playing traditional Chinese music on a little stringed instrument. In the park sat a crowd of old Chinese men and women. At little wire tables they were playing cards with lots of people crowded around them. The women were separate from the men, all playing so intensely, and the temperature was just above thirty degrees. China town was absolutely beautiful and so were all its people.