Whenever I got on a trip I send myself a couple of postcards for my collection, which I started because it's a cheap and easy thing to collect. I also always buy one nicer item as a trip memento. While I didn't have a favorite part of San Francisco -- it was all wonderful! -- I did find Chinatown to be particularly delightful. So I knew that I wanted it to come from Chinatown. Here I must admit that finding something really "nice" in Chinatown is not really easy to do. There is a lot of touristy junk in Chinatown and the fun is sorting out what you really want from that which you can order in bulk from the Oriental Trading Company catalog.
I wandered into a store that seemed small but was in actuality two stories and extremely deep. The first floor was not anything amazing, but the second floor was an art gallery. I was skeptical, but after examining a few, I realized that I didn't really care about authenticity. What do I know about art anyway?
I pulled out a stack of paintings on rice paper that drew my eye. The elderly woman who was working in the area recognized a serious shopper and dropped whatever she was doing to come help. With her accented assistance, I narrowed down the paintings to a group of six, which we lined up on a shelf.
We admired them; rearranged them; ignored the other customers; rearranged them; and admired them some more. I eliminated one and the sales clerk vetoed one of the others so we were down to four. It took at least 30 minutes before I finally selected my favorite two and "my" sales clerk approved my decision. Then she carefully translated the Chinese on my paintings for me, both of which apparently had something to do with success in business and making a lot of money. (She's probably not familiar with student affairs.)
The paintings themselves probably aren't worth what I paid, but the experience was worth every penny!
I wandered into a store that seemed small but was in actuality two stories and extremely deep. The first floor was not anything amazing, but the second floor was an art gallery. I was skeptical, but after examining a few, I realized that I didn't really care about authenticity. What do I know about art anyway?
I pulled out a stack of paintings on rice paper that drew my eye. The elderly woman who was working in the area recognized a serious shopper and dropped whatever she was doing to come help. With her accented assistance, I narrowed down the paintings to a group of six, which we lined up on a shelf.
We admired them; rearranged them; ignored the other customers; rearranged them; and admired them some more. I eliminated one and the sales clerk vetoed one of the others so we were down to four. It took at least 30 minutes before I finally selected my favorite two and "my" sales clerk approved my decision. Then she carefully translated the Chinese on my paintings for me, both of which apparently had something to do with success in business and making a lot of money. (She's probably not familiar with student affairs.)
The paintings themselves probably aren't worth what I paid, but the experience was worth every penny!
