Little Chinatown

This past Sunday, a relatively unattractive but temperate day, I decided to walk down to the local Chinatown. The Greater Toronto Area actually has 5 different Chinatowns, and something like 200,000 residents of Chinese descent. Insanity! "My" Chinatown isn't the main one - in fact, it's probably the smallest of the five, but whatever. As long as I can buy cheap vegetables and Pocky, size doesn't matter.

The walk there was nice in itself. On the way, I passed by a local park that has a steep hill, perfect for sledding. There were about a hundred kids with their parents, flying down the hill at odd angles, crashing into each other, running back up the hill and squealing. It made me want to go out and buy a sled, or at least a pair of mittens attached by a long bit of yarn.

It was pretty quiet in Chinatown that afternoon, unless you went inside Cai Yuan Supermarket and saw the ridiculously long lines that snaked out from the cash registers. The people inside didn't seem to mind the strong odor of fish and aging produce. I walked up and down the aisles, remembering products I used to see at my grocery store in Beijing. Inside another store, I glanced down and noticed a little shrine on the floor, offering an apple and some Chinese crackers to a deity. Back on the street I thought about popping into a bakery, but decided against it when I remembered the many times I've been surprised by meat or mayonnaise in a pastry I expected to be filled with sugary fruit. I snapped a few photos, admired a few birds hanging in the window of a barbeque restaurant, and headed for home. No big deal. Just a short walk.