Day of Rest

I’m glad to review the news today and see that fortunately nothing has thus far transpired to mirror the remarkable, successive, near-miss tragedies of the last two mornings.  I am mindful that the day has a long way to go. 

I’m not used to being in this busy neighborhood on Sunday.  It is hardly rural France, where everything was closed, after a certain hour of the day.   We struggled the Sunday before last to find anywhere to eat. Even Paris where the French had once turned the Notre Dame cathedral into a “Temple of Reason” like some Cultural Revolution farce, the idea of a “day of rest”, for religious reasons or otherwise, was observed and respected there in Paris.

I, for one, have to work.  Looking out, some buildings are closed.  In the building I'm working in, some exits are locked as there is no one staffed on manning the egress.   People are not at work in many buildings and places like Starbucks have obviously decided not to bother stocking salads and sandwiches, as they aren’t expecting anyone to come by and eat them. 

But Shanghai, is Shanghai and even on Sunday its over crowded.  The streets are full, traffic remains intense, and there are no shortage of establishments, eateries or otherwise, that are open for business. Perhaps not unlike New York, Sunday is a day to shop, but not necessarily to rest.  

It suddenly looks like rain outside.  The clouds moved in so swiftly.  I haven’t thought to bring my umbrella over with me here to eat.  But I did bring it to where I’m working.  And that door isn't very far. The rain too is never far away here and I have become calloused once gain to expect rain every day.  Conditioned to avoid another dash home in a deluge or downpour wait-out, when I need to be home, working.