Wow! First sunrise without cloud cover in days! These past few weeks have been trying ones on the old psyche, but fortunately, I live in what several of my friends call “God’s Country”. It might seem strange to those of you not here, to think of Oakland as “God’s Country”. San Franciscans are almost sure to sneer at such a notion. You may think and do as you wish, but there is no denying that this small city can be a charmer. During those rainy days it was DTO, and Chinatown in particular, that lifted my spirits and kept seasonal depression disorder at bay. With my umbrella and camera, I’d take long walks and stop for noodles, tea, 99 cent stores, variety shops, herbalists, 35 cent macaroons––good ones, weird signage, old lady fashion plates, and killer deals on fruits and veggies.
Just some of my favorite gals with fresh do's.
I am now officially addicted to Chinatown and its colorful sights, sounds, and smells. I really love the feeling of being the only white person in sight on the block. (I have ideas about what this says about my personality and I am fine with that.) No English is being spoken anywhere near me, I can only read %30 of the signs, grandmas careen about on little BMX bikes with shopping bags tied across the bars, old dudes smoke in doorways, and I am just one more, inconsequential white guy. The only effort required to make this exotic trip is the will to get out of bed and cross Broadway! This is the perfect, exotic daycation destination for a bed loving, cuddle bunny such as myself. O, wo, it is sooooo hard to tear oneself from the warm confines of the covers on a rainy, blustery bayside day––when the seagulls are wheeling about the wind ripped palms, whilst torn umbrellas fly from the hands of tempest strained travelers bent on… keeeerist. Enough already!
The florescent world of wonder!
On 10th street between Harrison and Webster, there is a building that houses a special sort of mini-mall. It is the kind of place where a brand new business can fly for the first time. Inside there are three floors of everything from acupuncture clinics to traffic schools, herbalists, hair stylists, massage, temples, notary publics and the hypnotic clicks of mahjong tiles. You can walk in here and get a new look, a better feeling body, cleanse the soul and buy a new cell phone. I love the barebones look in here. The spaces are either very small or kind of small and the second floor is nearly vacant. I called the number on one of the signs and the rent was a reasonable $375/month. On the third floor, the look is more hotel-ish and the spaces are larger with a second floor loft. It is up here that a very reasonably priced full body or 75-minute foot massage can be had. Imagine, 75 minutes! I don’t know if I could take it, but it is tempting.
My pinky is killing me!
This is a place at once familiar and completely unfamiliar. It is indeed a mall and we’ve all seen malls but maybe not one like this one. It is not spectacular in any way that is immediately apparent. Getting into the details is where the pay-off is… the hand lettered signs on 8X10 colored paper, hair salon posters with bygone styles, paper bunny cut-outs, things that seem lost in time. I’ll probably never get a haircut here, pray, or buy a dvd, but I will return and perhaps buy a nice piece of jade, or some healing herbs for my body. It is certain that I will be back many more times for that comforting feeling of being completely out of place.
Temple signage.
wtfdto is a persistent production, a division of the toodleton enterprise network
all photos k. thomson
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