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Evan tells Ada to pick a fortune. Muted light emanates from red tasseled lanterns, adding to the gloom of rain pounding the streets outside. Her raised voice causes the other patrons to look uncomfortably toward the American tempest in their circumspect midst.
Instead of answering, he slips the bill off the tray and extends the cookies as a peace offering, then reaches into his pocket for pastel-colored money, which he drops on the table.
They let it slide; change the subject instead of admitting defeat. She regards her fortune, written in Czech, and passes it to Evan to interpret. She hums a few bars of the Bob Marley tune then sighs. She nods, but feels tired suddenly. Maybe, because the sky is limitless, a tree can go on forever then? His old classmate, a Swiss German named Gerhard, sniffs distastefully at his glass then swallows quickly. Ada secretly likes Becher: it is the best stomach remedy around and makes her feel balmy, helps her forget the heavy Chinese food.
In my country, we understand this concept. He shuts his eyes and inhales, waves the cigarette like a small wand for emphasis, a burning pointed finger. Milos has invited Evan over to meet Gerhard, who has just arrived with one backpack and a crate. He knows something about identity struggle, he tells Ada, because he has struggled his whole life as a Swiss German in the French Alps.