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  6 - A little bit in Korean at Montmartre - continued

  The next day after arriving at the hotel, I was having breakfast when I saw within earshot distance a man like me sitting at his desk with his back toward me. 

  I called to him asking in Korean.

  "S shi nugushimunika?" - Who is Mr. S?

  In the e-mails I'd exchanged with the hotel, I got in touch with a few people with Korean names, and a man by the name of Mr. S seemed to be the manager.

  "Lui-meme." - Me - came a reply in Fremch.  

  Unknowingly I was asking Mr. S himself who Mr. S was.

  Mr. S was such a kind-hearted man as to invite me to a local Japanese restaurant - my very first visit to a restaurant at that toward the end of my half-a-month stay in Paris.

  On our way, he took me in a lovely microbus that helps people go up around hilly  Montmartr.

  On our way back on foot, we dropped in a cafe - again my first visit to a cafe as I couldn't afford to to save money - where he used to enjoy vin rose in the presence of his grandchildren, a girl and a boy, born between his son and a French wife. Mr. S showed me their photo he carried in his breast pocket. I saw there his darlings now in their teens.

They looked angelic. East and West met here giving birth to angels, I thought.