; she said.

    And I  s appreciate ;

    And Auntie Lindo looked satisfied and sad at time, as if true and I . S doter. Sears in  tten t  to read it.

    quot;t; I whispered.

    t cement buildings, old factories, and tracks and more tracks filled rains like ours passing by in te direction. I see platforms croern clots of brigtle cops and pants t stop mid-calf. e are in Guangzhou.

    Before train even comes to a stop, people are bringing dos. For a moment tcases laden s to relatives, ring to keep tents from spilling out, plastic bags filled ables and packages of dried mus in a stream of people rusil ing to go toms. I feel as if I ting on tockton bus in San Francisco. I am in C bot feels rigart pusoo.

    I take out tion forms and my passport. quot;oo,quot; it says at top, and belo, quot;June May,quot; ; in 1951. I oms people ion ure, my c back and artfully styled. I am ed t in October. And noo dark circles and everyt like layers of grease. So today my face is plain, unadorned except for a t of s on my forehead and nose.

    Even  makeup, I could never pass for true Cand five-foot-six, and my  I am eye level only ourists. My motold me my  came from my grandfat;t your grandmotold me,quot; explained my mot;But no is too late to ask s, your uncles, and tions in one instant.quot;

    Ster-of-factly t I t sten over any grief shey were all dead.

    quot;Maybe t t; I suggested.

    quot;No,quot; said my mot;Our  you and I.quot;

    quot;But ;