Ginseng Soup For The Soul
I was born and raised in Canada, but ethnically, I am Chinese, and I definitely look it. A Caucasian customer approaches me and asks nervously:
Customer: “Excuse me, are you Chinese?”
Me: “Canadian Chinese, yes.”
Customer: “Can you read this?”
He hands me a piece of paper with Chinese writing on it.
Me: “Sorry, I only speak it. I can’t read it.”
Customer: “I see. Sorry to bother you.”
He starts to walk away, shoulders dropped.
Me: “Wait, I can call over ‘Auntie’.”
Customer: “Auntie?”
Me: “Sorry, force of habit. One of our cashiers is an old Chinese lady. She looks after all the other cashiers and brings us food sometimes. We all call her ‘Auntie.'”
The customer is appreciative, and I bring him over to “Auntie”. She’s serving a customer, but I grab her attention before she moves on to the next one.
Me: *To the next customer* “Apologies, I just need to ask your cashier a question.”
I hand Auntie the paper.
Auntie: “This is a shopping list.”
Customer: “Yes! That’s right.”
Auntie: “Where did you get this?”
Customer: “I have a tenant in the ground floor apartment of the house I just bought. She can’t speak any English, but she’s great! Her daughter usually comes by to help her out, but she’s sick, and she asked me to get her some groceries. She forgot to tell me that the list is… well… you can read for yourself.”
Auntie: “That’s so sweet of you! By the looks of this list, I think your tenant is making some [Chinese dish].”
We both look at her confused.
Auntie: “It’s like chicken soup for when you’re sick… but Chinese.”
Auntie then asks me to take over her cashier desk while she helps this customer with his Chinese shopping list. I gladly do so, and while I serve the next few customers, I see Auntie and the customer wandering the aisles selecting a wide range of ingredients.
After twenty minutes, they’re both back and in line at Auntie’s original checkout line. Auntie takes over and resumes her cashier duties.
Auntie: “That should be everything. The list specifically said fresh ginseng, but we don’t have that, so I hope the dry version is okay. I’ve written down some of the modifications I made on the list in Chinese, so please hand the list back to your tenant when you bring her the groceries.”
Customer: “Seriously, thank you so much!”
The customer pays and leaves, and I check in with Auntie.
Auntie: “What a nice young man! He paid for those groceries himself, with his own money!”
Me: “That’s amazing!”
Auntie: “Yeah, he said that the old Chinese lady is the best tenant he’s ever had; she tends to the garden at the front of his house as her hobby and keeps her place spotless, apparently. He said he’d buy her all the tea in China if it meant she’d keep renting from him!”
Two weeks later, the old Chinese lady came in herself, with her now-recovered daughter, looking for the cashier who had helped her landlord translate her shopping list. They gave Auntie a hug and chatted in old-lady Chinese for forty minutes. (Don’t worry; it was her lunch break.)
These days, we often see the landlord and the old Chinese lady actually shopping together — with their own shopping lists in their own languages but definitely together. When we say hello, he tells us:
Customer: “Yeah, I drive her here, and she makes me the best noodles I’ve ever had. I’m winning in this bargain!”
My new favourite customers!
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