Within one hour of the start of my walking, the classic question came my way, first by three Chinese-Canadians.
“Are you a monk?”
The second time the question was posed came from a Black Canadian standing at the corner of Yonge and Dundas. I wasn’t sure if he was poised to cross, but when I began answering, he remained planted right there, eager to listen.
“I am a monk. It’s a good life,” I said.
“So you’re celibate? You don’t have sex with your wife?” was his curious question.