The Kindness of Strangers

While in Beijing, because I didn't bring the right clothes (and no jacket), I "caught a wind", as we say in Chinese medicine. A couple days after I get back from Beijing, my voice suddenly becomes low and scratchy. One of my students says it sounds sexy.

I'm on the subway, and am coughing a little. Even though I know which Chinese medicine I can take, for colds, I rarely take anything. All you need to do, rest, drink enough water, and wait it out. A healthy body knows what to do and I try not to interfere.

Next to me is a young girl, maybe 22. She takes out a shiny orange flyer and start writing on it. Three stops later, she turns to me, point to the piece of paper, and asks in Chinese "Can you read this?" as if she knows me, knows that I speak Chinese, knows that I am intersted in Chinese medicine.

I look at it and say yes. I can make out most characters. "Drink more water. Drink ginger ale. Rest. Take Yin Qiao San. Take Yu Xing Cao."

That's good advice, I say, but I prefer to boil up fresh ginger instead of drinking ginger ale.

She tells me her mother is a doctor. A "Chinese doctor?", I ask. "No, a Western one, but we like Chinese medicine," she replies.

I tell her I know a little about Chinese medicine. I am curious to hear about her thoughts about traditional medicine. It is rare to run into young people who know much about Chinese medicine, and I find that she is a "fan." She tells me she doesn't like Western medicine much, that it ends up doing more harm than good.

I ask her what she does. She tells me she's an accountant. I tell her she should be in the health profession, but she tells me she'll probably stick with accounting.

"Very stable," I say.

We've come to the end of the line. We get off together. She's got a rolling carry-on suitcase, and I offer to take it down the stairs of the station for her.

I thank her for her advice and we say goodbye.