Experience has taught me that some performers don’t take it too kindly to having a lens poking into their faces, so I approached one of the aunties, wearing my cheeriest smile and in halting Mandarin, if they’d mind my intrusion backstage. Then from down the road came D and M, who marched straight up the stairs by the side of the stage and disappeared behind the scenes. Old hands like them make me feel like a timid pup. I hurried in after them, and waltzed a few decades back in time to see mostly men and women in their 50s,…
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