americans can write?

i stood in the middle of chungxi lu, the biggest shopping mall in chengdu, writing in my journal. i was waiting for rachel, who was buying boots. i was simply recounting my eventful day, so i wouldn't forget anything. all of a sudden i felt this presence over my shoulder. it was a chinese couple who had come over to see what i was writing. like i was an exhibit or something. "Step right up folks, see this amazing creature--a literate american. now i know it may be hard to believe folks, but here he is, right in chungxi lu!!!"

people would change their courses to pass a little bit closer, and crane their heads upward to see over my notebook. again, i have no idea about their motivation. did they think i was writing about them? i was. serves them right for staring at me all the time.