Auguste Elder
Contact Lens: Manhattan, NY (Nassau Street)
A man slowly approaches us with a cane and a slip of paper, his "Cat in the Hat" cap foreshadowing what's to come.
He begins to speak Mandarin to my Korean friends, asking where the hospital is, but is surprised to hear me respond in his mother tongue.
"Oh, you speak mandarin?! If you know Mandarin and English, you can speak anywhere in the world! But if you don't speak English here, you can't have friends. No friends."
I respond, "Wo shi nin-de pengyou." [I am your friend.]
Smiling, he invites us to, "Feel my arm, squeeze my arm. Now feel here [his pectoral muscle]. And here [his abdomen]. And here [his quads]. Guess how old I am."
We each take a stab, ranging from 65 to 80.
"I'm now going to teach you something" he says as he leans his cane and drops the shopping bags. "This is what my father taught me. If you do this, you will sleep like a dead man."
He demonstrates deliberate, slow breathing, both constraining the release of his breath and slowly allowing it to dissipate like a morning fog.
"Now feel here and here" he says to Sinji and me, putting our hands on his chest and abdomen simultaneously. As we do so, he fills his chest like a balloon, and slowly tucks in his belly. Again, he releases a minute gasp, then steams out the rest in a slow manner with a relaxed face.
"Xie-xie wo-men laoshi! [Thank you, our teacher!]. May I take your photo by the wall over here?"
As I take his photo, a security guard approaches and asks whom the packages belong to. We reassure him that their owner is standing before us, and that there are no nefarious designs going on behind the JPMorgan fortress.
"Friends, thank you. I am 70 years old. If you do what my father taught me, you'll live a healthy life."
Contact Lens: Manhattan, NY (Nassau Street)
A man slowly approaches us with a cane and a slip of paper, his "Cat in the Hat" cap foreshadowing what's to come.
He begins to speak Mandarin to my Korean friends, asking where the hospital is, but is surprised to hear me respond in his mother tongue.
"Oh, you speak mandarin?! If you know Mandarin and English, you can speak anywhere in the world! But if you don't speak English here, you can't have friends. No friends."
I respond, "Wo shi nin-de pengyou." [I am your friend.]
Smiling, he invites us to, "Feel my arm, squeeze my arm. Now feel here [his pectoral muscle]. And here [his abdomen]. And here [his quads]. Guess how old I am."
We each take a stab, ranging from 65 to 80.
"I'm now going to teach you something" he says as he leans his cane and drops the shopping bags. "This is what my father taught me. If you do this, you will sleep like a dead man."
He demonstrates deliberate, slow breathing, both constraining the release of his breath and slowly allowing it to dissipate like a morning fog.
"Now feel here and here" he says to Sinji and me, putting our hands on his chest and abdomen simultaneously. As we do so, he fills his chest like a balloon, and slowly tucks in his belly. Again, he releases a minute gasp, then steams out the rest in a slow manner with a relaxed face.
"Xie-xie wo-men laoshi! [Thank you, our teacher!]. May I take your photo by the wall over here?"
As I take his photo, a security guard approaches and asks whom the packages belong to. We reassure him that their owner is standing before us, and that there are no nefarious designs going on behind the JPMorgan fortress.
"Friends, thank you. I am 70 years old. If you do what my father taught me, you'll live a healthy life."