Week 2.5: A little snippet of San Francisco life.

A mini park in the inner Richmond neighbourhood, tasteful and tidy, with freshly cropped grass and here and there a faded green bench. Trees on three sides, insulating the little patch of greenspace from noise and dirt. On one of the benches, in the sunshine, sits an elderly Chinese woman. Her coat and cane rest beside her. It seems as if she is more of a fixture than the bench on which she sits. Behind her stands her husband. He swings his arms back and forth, rhythmically, constant motion as opposed to his wife. He moves backward a few steps and continues. He makes his way around the park, stopping every few steps, without once ceasing to move. Now he bends over, places his fists on the small of his back, moves them in small circles, both together, now just his right fist, now just his left. All of his motions are small, but they never stop.

From the sidewalk enters a potential adult, hot and slippery with running. She notes the Chinese couple and selects her own bench, a little east and a little south of theirs, and facing the same way. She sits and becomes a fixture, like the older woman, and watches the shadows creep across the crazy patterns in the grass, spirals created by too large a lawnmower in too small a space.

Now enters a pair of dogs, a dachshund and a giant Schnauzer, one trotting bright and eager, one striding with measured steps almost four times the length of his companion’s. Two dogs, two leashes, two young men on the other ends. Both men appear to be the same age, although it is immediately obvious which of them is in charge. They select their bench, the schnauzer is turned loose, the dachshund is restrained, although his eyes never leave his larger companion. Snippets of conversation reach the potential. Business conversation: “The other thing I wanted to highlight is that even if we close up shop, I will do everything possible to help you.” “I want to give you some time to think about whether you’re in. My hope is that you will be”. Professional, well-cut words, like the way they both are dressed. Meanwhile the schnauzer is loping round and round the park, enjoying himself.

The Chinese woman watches the dog and smiles. She turns and looks over her shoulder at the potential. In shrill English, she comments “He poo-poo three times!” and holds up three fingers for emphasis. “There, there, and there!” She shakes her head, grinning, and the potential nods and smiles and wonders if the respectable young businessmen have noticed. Their conversation continues, the most civilized conversation in the world, and then they get up, the schnauzer is called, they leave the park, and the Chinese woman turns around and addresses the potential again: “They not pick up!” She points. “There, there and there! Not right.” On reflex, the potential responds “Maybe they didn’t notice.” But the older woman does not stop shaking her head and grinning ruefully. “Smelly!”

The shadows creep over the grass (et al) and the Chinese woman decides it is time to leave, and she rises and addresses her husband, in Chinese even more shrill and grating than her English was, and makes her slow, inexorable way across the street and into the house. Her husband remains, always moving, never still, watching the skateboarders in the street and listening to their crack and scrape and shouts.

At last the bench is clear, save sunshine, and the potential rises and does a quick and expert search of the bench. Then the next bench, and the next, and the next, and the light poles, and the sprinkler. And she sets off home, running, disappointed but not too badly, because you can’t find a cache every day, and more valuable than the cache was participating in that little window of public society, watching the excited dogs and the slow sunshine and finding amusement in the contrast between the businessman’s image and self-awareness and his dog’s total lack of either.