The man who dines at Papa Yang's

14 April 2007

Saturday was housework. You don't really want to know about it. We did, however, in the morning take a walk down to Rue Lepic and the area around the Abbesses Metro Station. These are busy streets. Some street markets, but much more classy - and, needless to say, a lot more expensive. We wandered around for an hour and then went for lunch at a pleasant cafe.
But a few days ago we promised to tell you more about Papa Yang's.

The apartment in which we are staying is on the first floor and opposite, at street level, is a Chinese Restaurant, Chez Yang. The Proprietor is Papa Yang. From our lounge window, we can see down into the restaurant. The restaurant is open for both lunch and dinner, seven days a week and also does take-away meals. We believe that Papa Yang lives above his restaurant because early every morning we see him leaving to return later with his shopping. We have also noticed his wife cleaning and chatting to the neighbours.

Last year we noticed that Papa Yang has one regular, almost nightly, patron. He is a tall, willowy, silver-haired, elderly gentleman. Invariably last year he wore a navy raincoat over a navy jacket, grey trousers and pale blue shirt. He arrived punctually at 7.30 and left about an hour later. We were intrigued and found ourselves speculating (sometimes wildly) on him and his antecedents.

We wondered if "l'homme que dine chez Papa Yang" would still be around and to our delight he was there as usual on our first evening here and every evening since. The only difference we can see is that because of the unseasonable heat, he is not wearing his raincoat. He always sits at the same table. We have never seen him with anybody else but both last year and this week he occasionally talks to a group of women who seem to dine together regularly. He never joins their table.

When it is a quiet evening at the restaurant, sometimes the proprietor, Papa Yang, will sit alongside him at the end of his meal. Virginia remarked the other evening that when he arrives he sits down and carefully organizes every item in front of him-cutlery, condiments, serviette, etc. He seems to clasp his hands in front of himself when he is not eating; almost as if in supplication or prayer. She said it reminded her of a priest preparing the alter to say mass. So, is he an ex-priest? Or is his meticulous manner and calm demeanour that of a man of the law?

By now you may well be asking why we don't cross over at dinner time to have a meal at Chez Yang and see what we can ferret out. The fact is that we have been voyeurs for so long we are loathe to intrude. Besides, the truth may be far less interesting than the stories we make up, especially those on those rare occasions when he doesn't dine at Papa Yangs. And so, we are left with the question, "Who is the man who dines at Papa Yangs?"