Journey, In viaggio col dolore

25. MY JOURNEY WITH PAIN. New York and Chinatown.

As soon as I arrived in NY in September 2006, my concern was to seek the acupuncture center recommended by my Genoese acupuncturist. I had to return to him for treatment in 2005, not finding a valid alternative in my city. The relationship was later very correct. And indeed, we also became a bit 'friends and a bit' confidants. 
Here's what I wrote in my New York emails about Chinatown and the acupuncture center:
<< Here I get tired a lot. I walk a lot; I watch a lot. I always wake up very early.
The day before yesterday, I went to look for the Vietnamese acupuncturist doctor recommended by my Zena doc. I did not find him, but they gave me his Chinatown address, so I decided to venture there yesterday. Wonderful day. Here you are, sleeveless, in the sun and the warm breeze. After a quick look at the map, I decide to walk there via the Broadway from Union Square.It took me an hour and a half, looking at shop windows of cute clothes and shoe shops. Then I left an important piece of my heart, but not of my credit card, on a black coat of suede and leather style 'cowboy friend of the Indians', with bones and beads, photographing my 'usual geometric deliriums', as I call them.  I have a lot of fun shooting. Here you are in the photographer's Eden.
I slip into the Street and arrive in this oasis of peace and cool after crossing a door that looked like a gambling den. But N Y is like that.
Arrival down Canal Street: a hellish mess. Tourists and patrons and Chinese or Asians everywhere. Traffic at full throttle but not stressful.
What I noticed is that they don't honk much (thankfully!). Pagodas everywhere, the Mc Donald with the pagoda sign, and the pagoda-shaped bank 'Chase' too... I slip into the Street arriving in an oasis of peace and cool after having crossed a door looking like a gambling den. But N Y is like that. 
In this oasis, the center of the doctor I was looking for, a girl who understands nothing of English, welcomes me with a smile and strange cries. I smile at her, and I know nothing of her English-speaking pronounced in Asian. (the 'R' becomes 'L,' and the 'F' becomes 'P.' 'Palmasi,' for example, is the pharmacy). But kindness and willingness have the best, so I leave her my coordinates. (4 hours later,  I had already in my voice mail the message from the doctor telling me to call her for an appointment). >>
When I went to Chinatown for treatment, I felt like I was entering a parallel universe. 
Coming up from the subway's bowels, the typically Asian joyful and laborious chaos of Canal Street welcomed me, making me so happy and confident. In addition to the pagodas and almond-shaped eyes, that was the place of my doctors.
The female doctor who initially treated me supported all my New York vicissitudes, both working and emotional. I confided everything.
Especially from March to May 2007, the months preceding my first New York concert, she took care of my body and my little heart, broken by the 'push and pull' of my love story with 'the Calabrian of New York.'
And, by transmitting her maternal side, she nourished mine, also taking care of my loneliness. Once - and writing, I am still moved -she invited me to lunch in a restaurant near her study. We ate hot soup and other delicious things together. The soup, in macrobiotic cooking, is the mother.
She was a lady with a cute face, beautiful black bobbed hair, and two big eyes. Her voice and ways were lovely but, if necessary, also authoritative. I felt that she loved me without letting us enter a space of intimacy outside of the therapeutic one. She was an admirable female human able to harmonize qualities such as passion, grace, sweetness, kindness, authoritativeness, wisdom, and heart.
'To love others and take care of them is to act with humanity. To understand them is to act with virtue.'
'The scene is set for dreaming
Love's knocking at the door
But oh my heart, I'm reluctant to start
For we've been fooled before.
The night is like a lovely tune
Beware, my foolish heart
How white the ever constant moon
Take care, my foolish heart.
There's a line between love and fascination
That's hard to see on an evening such as this
For they both give the very same sensation
When you are lost in the magic of a kiss.
Her lips are much too close to mine
Beware, my foolish heart
But should our eager lips combine
Then let the fire start
For this time, it isn't fascination
Or a dream that will fade and fall apart
It's love, this time it's love, my foolish heart.'
Ned Washington, Victor Young