usually sneaks into the house looking down, even a 'morose, not without having pulled the blue plastic shoe covers, a "ni hao" I feel strangled barely. Holding the bottle of water to 18 liters. A few steps down the hall entrance, then the two steps left, 4 more steps. He puts the bottle of water on the floor. Grab the empty one, it gets up and slips off easily, it rests on the ground. He bends down and picks up the full, giving himself up the momentum with your legs, it places the neck down, the wheel slightly to stick properly. The sound of flowing water. Get out of my hands the coupon and without hesitation - perhaps just enough time to look up and take a snapshot of what who can see the house - traces back the same steps, obviously in a hurry, closing the door behind him. The procedure takes less than a minute.
This time he looked at me in the eye immediately, entered confidently and without embarrassment, he deliberately took the time to look around, followed me without rushing toward the water dispenser, his gaze that is not afraid shame or dwell on the details of the house. While diluting and linger movements, uncorks the bottle again and pulls out an empty one, ask me - in a dialect that is not here, and with a speed that allows me to extract only the way - where I come from. Italy say. Ah, Italian pasta! You know? wonder, do you like? Very much so, he says is under threat. The you can do? Yes, of course I reply, including the dazed and surprised. Ah, now he adds a bit 'too uninhibited, then you cook. Well, yes, now a bit 'annoyed by the intrusion of tone more than anything else. One dish, how much? I asked in a dry and straightforward. What? frowned. A plate of pasta, how much? What, what? now completely amazed. How much? Yes, how much it costs. How much, what? And still more surprised, now a little 'shot, a grin on his face that I hope he understands ... How much pasta? At the restaurant? In the shops? Here in China? or in Italy? So, you want to know? Then I understand. How much would I pay the a plate of pasta.
dazed to say the least, I turn and I went toward the door, making the road. Do you follow me, without hurrying, always looking around, looking a little 'arrogant. Showed him the door, slips the shoes without feeling the rush on him, comes out and greets.
close the door. I feel my ayi laughing from upstairs. "Tang ayi, but I understand you correctly? Wanted to know what would do him a plate of pasta?". Yes, I understand.
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