The Kite Sitter

Last Sunday I went out with J's dad, W, to walk around the park and stretch our legs. We walked up to the base of the dam at the far end of the park, where W threw one of his legs up on a low branch of a tree and started, literally, stretching his leg. I did the same, although I'm clearly not as flexible as I used to be. I often see people around Dalian stretching, and in fact, saw one middle-aged woman waiting for a bus this morning kicking her legs up in the air like a pro; she could probably kick herself in the teeth if she wanted to. Anyway, W is not quite that flexible, but he does pretty well. I gave both my legs a good stretch too, and then we jumped up and grabbed two higher branches and began swinging, to stretch our arms. W swung his legs back and forth.
On the way back through the park, we saw a man sitting on a small stool flying a kite. He looked content sitting there holding the string, which was wrapped around an H-frame spool. W asked the man something, and I couldn't understand their entire conversation, but I think it went something like this:
"Wow, you're flying a kite"
(no response)
"You come here every week? I live nearby."
(no response)
"Here, have one of my cigarettes."
"No, no, I have my own." (he takes out a cigarette with his free hand)
"Then let me light it for you." (after which...) "Let my friend hold the kite for you while you smoke."
W's plan seemed to work, and he takes the spool, which the older man somewhat reluctantly surrenders, and brings it over to me to hold. The kite is high, high up in the air, and W shows me how to unspool the string even more. This catches the attention of two young boys, maybe 12 or 13 years old, standing nearby. One comes over to me and asks me in pretty respectable English, "What nationality are you?" He had clearly learned this in school, but it rolled off his tongue with ease. I answered in English and he seemed pretty happy. W asked him what feng zheng is in English, and after a moment of thought, the boy said, "kite," then turned to me and said, "Play kite."
Soon after, we gave the kite spool back to the older man, who had warmed to us slightly by that point, and I shook his hand saying thank you, "xie xie ni." He smiled back, and then took a seat back on his stool, fixing a contented look on his face again.