It’s not even a strictly Chinese or race thing! I feel more connected to most immigrants of any background than to people who are not.
The Yemeni shop uncle gives me snacks. The Thai cafe has the same flavors of desserts I like. My neighborhood is the only place where there are old women who yell my Chinese (not mandarin) name. No one anywhere else in the world knows it outside my family, but the specific spot I live in also has the highest proliferation of Vietnamese people who speak the same language I speak, the one my native name is in.
I can’t stand the guy who owns the South Asian shop as I suspect he’s a fascist, but I go when his son is there and also when they have imported mangoes. Just knowing things and the relationship of people to things and place in any big city I have a relationship with, really brings me joy.