For many years, my mother owned a women’s clothing store in a swap meet, southeast of LA. My mother was one of a few Koreans in an area of mostly Latinos, who worked under the metal roof of an abandoned warehouse converted into a shopping emporium—car stereos, healing potions, sneakers, gold jewelry, toys. The pet store named La Jungla specialized in small animals—rodents, fish and birds. The largest—a dazzling macaw—spent his days in a cage, squawking and screaming, “Help me! Help me!” I laughed.
