The minute our train leaves the Hong Kong border and enters Shenzhen, China, I feel different. I can feel the skin on my forehead tingling, my blood rushing through a new course, my bones aching with a familiar old pain...I am becoming Chinese.
So my fathehr had been the first one to open the letter, a long letter it turned out. And they did call her Mama... And the letter had broken my father's heart so much- these daughters calling my mother from another life he never knew.
Even without makeup, I could never pass for true Chinese. I stand five-foot-six, and my head pokes abve the crow so that I am eye levele only with other tourists.
The taxi stops and I assume we've arrived, but then I peer out at what looks like a grander version of the Hyatt Grand Regancy 'This is communist China?' I wonder out loud.
It was an old peasant woman who found them. 'How could I resist?' the peasant woman later told your sisters when they were older. They were sitting obediently near where your mother had left them.
And now I see her again, two of her, waving, and in one hand there is a photo...My sisters look at me proudly...Together we look like our mother.
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