Culture Shock Re-Visiting Apartment 3A - Part 2 of 2

I pretty much expected that someone would open the door and yell at us to "go away".  And even if it were said in Chinese, I think I would have gotten the drift...and if THAT were the case, I would have humbly apologized for the intrusion and walked away.

But quite the opposite happened.  The woman opened the door and beckoned us to 'come on in' with her hand and her smile.  I explained again that I used to live there and the teenage boy translated.  She led us into the apartment, and the teenage boy and the toddler followed close by.  When I lived there, back in the 70's, the first room was a large combination - living room/kitchen, and we had enough room for a wall unit, 19-inch television, table with three chairs, my grandmother's reading chair, and a set of drawers.

Now, right smack in the middle of the large room was erected an "extra room", which looked like a large box made out of sheetrock.  It cut the size of the room to such an extent that the only thing that fit inside the kitchen area was a small table upon which sat plates of still-uncooked meats and vegetables.

The woman opened the door to this haphazardly placed "extra room", and we could see it had bunk beds inside and was being used for sleeping quarters.  Then we saw that the small bedroom that my brother used to sleep in also had a set of bunk beds, and up sat a middle-aged man who was resting on the top bunk.  He seemed to understand what was going on, and to explain my presence in his home further, I mentioned that the name on his mailbox downstairs of "DeLorenzo" was me.

On the bottom bunk sat a small girl of about 7 or 8.  As way of example, I pointed to the child and said something to the effect that when I was HER age, I lived there with my brother and grandmother.  The man smiled and nodded as if he completely understood.  The other bedroom which was mine and my grandmother's was closed and I wasn't about to gesture to the woman to open that one as well.  Since this room was slightly larger than the other, I can only assume there were multiple bunk beds in there, also.

Feeling very lucky and grateful to have been given the "tour" of my old apartment, I happily proceeded to exit the family's home, thanking them the whole way out.

I left with mixed feelings about seeing the present-day apartment where I grew up.  Happily nostalgic in a way, and also shocked to see how this family is living.  At first I felt kind of sad for them, but then realized that they seemed so happy and gracious that they probably moved to this country from much worse circumstances, in search for a better life.  I wish them all the best in their pursuit.