Thank You

The rigidly taciturn manager-cashier at the one good Chinese grocery in town, who tersely speaks in minimal Portuguese, and who doesn't know a word of English....

One of the first signs of a newbie traveler is the expectation that Chinese people speak some English, like the oldsters in Chinatown back home.

...rigidly declines to show any indication that he recognizes me, though I know that I am a VIP customer, being the only one asking for holy Thai basil or fermented tofu or obscure Chinese versions of senbei.

It's the sign of a merely accomplished foodie to be surprised that Chinese know about Japanese senbei at all, when they've earned a firm and enduring spot on the Chinese snack pyramid.

But this time, he rang up my stuff, handed me the bag, and there was an almost imperceptible sotto voce "thank-you."

It was so quiet and bashful and slippery that I may have imagined it. And like with the Voice used, hypnotically, by the Bene Gesserit in "Dune," I felt restrained from remarking or reacting in any way. I could only walk out the door, making a loopy, asymmetrical face of utter disorientation.

Has he been working on it? Knowing a thing or two about taciturn Chinese cashiers, I know it is entirely possible he's been practicing for months.