Word: washing
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...visible halo, but the stocky, uneducated Chinese woman is a saint to thousands. For 13 years Cheng Chui-ping sold clothes and cheap eats along East Broadway in New York City's Chinatown. During lunch hours she would chop vegetables, wash dishes and wait on tables at a restaurant that served dishes from her native Fujian province. Occasionally she could be seen tottering down the street struggling with bales of clothes, dragging them into her general-merchandise store. But to many she was a veritable goddess, dispensing both mercy and fortune. Her devotees called her Dajie Ping--Big Sister Ping...
...Lane, the long-term-care facility where Fournier lives in Shelton, Wash., has embraced the Eden Alternative, a growing movement whose aim is to revolutionize and deinstitutionalize the long-term-care industry. By infusing centers with life, giving power to front-line caregivers and making the emotional care of residents a priority, Eden has taken hold at more than 300 homes nationwide...
Stonesifer, sitting in a coffeehouse in Redmond, Wash., draws a diagram of a river, then stick-figure babies floating in the river and then her plan for heading upstream to where those babies are falling into the river and solving the problem there. She's told this story two dozen times. But there is a fervor in her brown eyes and a drill-to-the-core focus that made her the top female executive at Microsoft until her retirement, at age 40, in 1997. She does not draw a salary for her work with the Gates Foundation. "We have...
...familiar by now: period melodramas with a lot of court intrigue and fabulous silk frocks. So here's a switch: a modern comedy that trumpets its breeziness from its first shots, of a man stepping into a newfangled street stall that gives his body a sort of car wash. The rest, set in a failing Beijing bathhouse, is a genial study of family collision and reconciliation: the yuppie (Pu Cunxin) with his aged dad and slow-witted brother (Jiang Wu). The film is almost too ingratiating (How many times will you hear a fat Chinese guy sing O sole...
...DELHI, India--Every night I go to sleep wearing Delhi. Try as I may to disrobe, to wash the city from my skin, I remain clothed in the urban masala of textures and smells that seasons the ancient metropolis on the banks of the Yamuna River. A drop of sweat lies delicately between my eyes, a saree of dirt and exhaust, pleated six times at my waist and draped over my shoulder, enshrouds my body and defends my modesty from the menacing eyes of the dark. And as I lay in bed, immobilized by the heat, with the dissonant smells...