Back the next day at Mr. He's, we met his nine year old granddaughter. A real live-wire this one. She flitted about us as we chatted with Mr. He and cracked our sunflower seeds. As before, I accumulated a pile of seed shells on the little stool before me. That is, until Mr. He's granddaughter with a little laugh flicked the pile to the ground. She then asked her granddad to turn on his tape player; a request he gladly obliged.
A homemade recording of traditional hulu playing burst forth; the sounds of dancing feet creating the rhythm. The granddaughter was overjoyed, humming along boisterously.
There's hope, I thought. Perhaps this child will take up the hulu.