Day Before the Big Snowstorm

It is very cold the day before the storm, so I donned layers of clothes to go to the library to pick up some books I’d requested. (One of them is about Istanbul because I’m interested in that ancient city.)

When Laurence and I walked by a church on Broadway, we saw a sign about a Myanmar (Burma) bazaar. Spontaneously, we walked into the church hall and mingled among the hundreds of Burmese people. On the stage a girl sang as a band played. Vendors sold the foods of their country: noodles, meat, eggs, dumplings, fermented tea leaf salad, fritters, and more. (I cannot tell you the proper name for these strange-to-me foods.) We bought a sweet that was made with palm sugar and coconut. The vendor was sorry, but he didn’t know the English name. (I doubt it had one.) There were also vendors selling crafts.

I don’t know if you can relate to the deep feeling of satisfaction I had at experiencing a slice of Burma while in Queens. As we left, I told Laurence, “This makes me so happy.”

After leaving the library, we looked at the menu in the window of a Malaysian restaurant. We checked out the food buffet at the Chinese restaurant called, “Five Loaves and Two Small Fishes” (they have a box of gospel tracts), and then went into the large Asian market where they sell everything from rice to live frogs. In all our years of shopping there, which is several times a week, I have never seen so many people. Politeness is not the culture nor was it really possible among the thousands of customers besides the workers, pushing boxes of produce. (Like sweet potatoes from Livingston, CA. I don’t know for sure but we have seen them there.) Long lines stretched to the 10 cashiers. The only reason I can think of for the crowds is the predicted snowstorm.

The Chinese danced in the playground despite the cold. The homeless stood around with food and hot drinks that someone must have brought them.

I’m finishing this as we travel home on the Long Island Railroad. Laurence and I went to a Japanese restaurant in Port Washington for supper. I had sushi and Laurence shrimp ramen. They know us there. We have our table. While we ate, I enjoyed watching the sushi chefs with their white aprons and black cloth caps.

This has turned into a foodie blog. It must be the cold weather that makes me want to try all these different ethnic foods. Yesterday, I ate Greek with friends down by the bay, also in Port Washington.

I’ll close with a New York greeting on a day before a snowstorm: “Stay safe.”

Berniece

P.s. The trains will run, and we will go to church.