In Chinatown it is busy
Bikes go real fast down streets that are dark, covered with crumpled up chinese newspapers and what looks like the aftermath of a thousand party poppers
Colored paper that slowly disappears into the wind as the day goes on
An old man is wearing a sign on his chest
He speaks of anger towards the Japanese
How they have not rightfully paid China back for all the damage and heartbreak they caused in wars past

In Chinatown it is different
The air is soft, but the area is buzzing with people
I sit down at one of the bakeries
Here I am at peace
Here, although there is no one to talk to in english
I feel listened to