Three Generations of Chinese Women Make Dumplings in a Chicago One-Bedroom
Updated: 4 days ago
Lao Lao stands in her kitchen, pressing edges
of dough into crescents, pork & cabbage &
spring onion tucked in to rest under a kneaded roof.
Mother prepares the wok, sliding sesame oil
across the surface until popping bubbles
start harmonizing with the constant whine
of a box fan.
Too little oil, Lao Lao says, Put too little oil,
the dumplings will burn.
Elsewhere, Zhenjiang newscasters bicker
about Sichuan, about the Kuomintang, accent
as biting as an orange slice striking the back
of your tongue. Elsewhere, Mother’s daughter
stares at characters printed on a stack of sun-yellowed
pages, each word as foreign as the province where mother
built herself into a woman.
Xía Lan needs to learn Chinese, Lao Lao says, You don’t
speak Chinese to her at home?
Mother places her knife on the pile of dirtied