Sometimes life seems so grim, it beggars belief

It's Sunday morning and I'm having brunch in a north Beijing dumpling restaurant with "Road", my quirky Chinese pal who calls herself that because she says, "life is a journey".

"Be the best person you can be, professor!" commands Road. She is a born optimist and always on a self-improvement kick, mostly for herself and often for me whenever she gets the chance. "I hope you can understand China better from learning Chinese," she continues. "And I can teach you because, because ... I am how-to-say? How-to-say? A genius!" No lack of self esteem there. "Yes. I think. Am I?"

I smile, nod and look outside, my attention drawn to the sunny, autumn sidewalk where a tall, solemn looking extremely weather-baked old man with a high quality brown satchel and a padded black leather jacket meets my eyes, opens his mouth wide and points emphatically twice inside it. An elderly woman with silver hair pulled back tight - obviously his wife - squats on the pavement beside him, rocking back and forth, wailing, though I can't hear her through the glass.