


“In the old days, if someone had a secret they didn’t want to share, they went up a mountain, found a tree, carved a hole, and whispered the secret into it. Then they covered the hole with mud. And left the secret there, forever.”
I still remember those lines from In the Mood for Love, the film that changed my life. That encounter with the aesthetic universe of Wong Kar-wai marked a clear before and after. I was very young, and for me, China was the sustained beauty, the desire, and the melancholy I had seen in his cinema.
But Guangzhou was not 1960s Hong Kong. The streets were overflowing with people. There was a light drizzle, and I could not see Mrs. Chan in her elegant cheongsam walking slowly down the stairs. Instead, we were met by hundreds of teenagers straight out of an anime taking selfies on every corner. Nor could I see Mr. Chow secretly watching her from the threshold of some doorway. It seemed as if time had stretched and snapped back into place. Modernity, neon lights, and visual noise obliterated every image.
We didn't know exactly what we were looking for. We arrived at the indicated spot. We looked everywhere, but there were no names or signs we could identify. Suddenly, in the dirty glass of a typical general store, we saw something familiar: the decal for The World's 50 Best Bars. We had found it. With a knowing look, the shop assistants invited us in. Behind a half-empty shelf was the door that guarded the first secret.
The chaos stopped. Out of the gloom emerged a majestic, colorful bar. The bottles looked like fish swimming in a sea of light. The secret didn't end there. We were lucky. Something even deeper awaited us. We followed a narrow, red corridor. The second door opened and revealed the intimacy of a jazz room.
Every night in the heart of Canton, someone sings a song. That night, I heard again the melody that once took my breath away. There were only five couples. I looked at their faces, but I didn't recognize Mrs. Chan or Mr. Chow. When the Filipino singer began to intone those verses in Spanish, my heart stopped, I clenched my hand, and I searched for them again in the small room. I was hoping to see them. That was their song.
Siempre que te pregunto
Que, ¿cuándo?, ¿cómo? y ¿dónde?
Tú siempre me respondes
Quizás, quizás, quizás
Hope & Sesame
MiaoQian Xijie 58, DongshanKou, 510000
Guangzhou, China