Today, I brought my flute to school. I had classes and it was alright. I was going to go to a museum but I just didn't feel like going after I finished lunch. I decided to go to China Town and play the flute by the road. I got a water cup from where I had lunch and headed to the JEP at USC which is where the bus to Union Station would stop.
I got on the bus when it arrived and arrived at Union Station. I walked straight to China Town and found a crossroad that was quite safe and had good human traffic.
I put down my cup with a quarter in it. Took a deep breath and started playing. I took a little time to get used to it, but after a while I was forgetting the time. I put down my backpack and strapped it to my leg so nobody could steal it and continued playing.
It was interesting to see how many people were surprised that what I was carrying was a flute. Perhaps bamboo flutes aren't that common in the US. Children would come by and watch me play. They wouldn't give me any money but it was nice to see that I was being appreciated. Interestingly, an old Chinese woman came by and had a chat with me. She said I reminded her of her son and was really eager to show me around. She recommended me some places where I would make more money, offered me to have dinner at her house and even offered to be my tour guide for free! I rejected of course since I would be taking advantage of her motherly love if I had accepted her offer. So, after putting a dollar in my cup, she left, saying that she hopes to see me around.
I played for an hour and my shoulders were getting tired from lifting my flute. So I went to the 1 dollar food shop and bought some fried vegetables to eat. It was quite a lot of vegetables for $1.75. I rested a little more and walked around the area, trying to find a better place with better human traffic. Turns out my old place was what seemed best. I went back and continued playing.
As I played, it was fun to see how children would stop and wonder how a wooden stick could produce music. An old man came by to chat with me as well. He said he reminded me of his daughter who studies at UCLA. I didn't want him to know my real identity so I said I was just travelling and making money to travel more kind of guy. We chatted for a while and he told me about how in UCLA, music students were required to play on the streets so they could learn how people react to their music. Then, he gave me 4 dollars! I told him to take some back but he said it was an encouragement to me.
I left after nobody stopped by for 10 minutes. I walked to union station and played there. There, the main people that walked by were either white or black. Few of them were Chinese. Interestingly, white men tended to give more than white women. While Chinese women gave more than Chinese men.
What I found even more interesting was Chinese people only gave dollar bills. I don't know why they didn't have change, but they would actively take money from their stack to put into my cup. People at Union Station on the other hand only gave me change, which meant that they were giving me whatever they had leftover, while Chinese people were giving me what they wanted to.
Another thing I found interesting and also saddening was that almost everyone who gave me money was either old or fat. There were very few good looking young people who dressed well who cared to even stop and listen. The ones who were well dress mostly didn't bother about me, while those who were less in their prime would pay more attention to me.
Seems like it's true that those who are in a poorer condition would be more humble to acknowledge the work of others while those who were in their prime would be more self centered. We ought to look less at ourselves and acknowledge others more, because it sure felt good to be acknowledged.
Here's a picture of some of the money given to me...
and that's my flute in my hand. My shoulders were so tired when I go back to my dorm...
