I double-checked with my older brother T some of the memories I have about our first subway trip with the IRC social worker, as detailed in the previous blog entry. I sure had a couple of items wrong. I don't know how my brother does it, but he remember lots of things, usually things that I forget.
I was sure that the IRC social worker was a Caucasian man, but T said it's a Cambodian man. Also, it was me who shouted "There he is!", not my sister O. Lastly, T confirmed my suspicion that all of us had to duck under the turnstile bar to get into the subway station. We didn't know any better then, but now looking back we all agree he probably pocketed the three tokens that were meant for us. Recall that he did deposit one token, which I out of curiosity wasted by cranking the turnstile bar. Shame on you, Mr. IRC Social Worker!