A Little Epitome of Happiness

April 22, 2012

The bass is pumping, and I am sitting cross-legged with my back straight on a straight-backed chair at a small square table. There is a miniature square brown lamp beside my laptop and behind my mojito and behind my cell phone with WhatsApp, with which I tell someone in Beirut whom I sometimes call my lover that I am happy.

My right shoulder rests against a tiny wooden door that is open, allowing air to waft in through a window with some interesting metal square patterns and no screen.

And out that window is the sign “Qinlao Hutong”, and hundreds of Chinese and foreign tourists stroll along Nanluoguxiang Hutong, around parked bicycles and mopeds, scurrying away from slowly moving cars, and I can see a red Coca-Cola sign, and I smile at that sign’s ubiquity and how it symbolizes all sorts of memories for me, and how incredible has been their branding success.

To my left five young Chinese folks eat popcorn and smile and shout and smoke and play that loud game with the dice and the cup that I can never learn how to play.

And it is Saturday night at 9:40, and I am translating from Portuguese into English, and the music is pumping, and I feel alive, and happy, and I bounce in my seat. In fact, this moment epitomizes happiness. And I tell my lover in Beirut this, and she sends me a “:)”.
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