On the way back from dinner at KFC ( I know I am hopeless, but KFC is celebrating its 20th anniversary in China), a man in his late 20th walked past me. He kept saying 'Ha-le-lu-ya , Ha-le-lu-ya, Ha-le-lu-ya.' Even around 6 pm on such a raining day, I could tell easily his shining eyes. He was holding some dinner boxes in hand. And was this something he was so grateful? More Grateful to God than our dear Communist Party?
The other day at Starbucks cafe, there was a waitor called 'Cici'. An American guy doubted him directly but he got confirmed answer. ' Yes, my name is Cici.' He was a little bit overweight and hairy, so he gave 'sissy' some new heights. I am sure.
And he reminded me of a classmate at college. The English name he chose for himself puzzled so much our oral English teacher, an American young man, and me too. But after I explained him the special meaning of this name, although pronoucing close to his Chinese name, didn't sound very right. His name was 'Dick'.
one and only
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