So here I am in Nakano and this isn't a sweet, delicious gingery/ lemony hot drink.
More to come hopefully...
Showing posts with label independence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label independence. Show all posts
Thursday, January 19, 2012
The wait is over........
So here I am in Nakano and this isn't a sweet, delicious gingery/ lemony hot drink.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The September Issue vol.1 chp 6 Sōsuke's garden
Sōsuke's the name of the main character in one of my favouritest (I'm aware it's not a word but it's so apt) films ever, Gake no ue no Ponyo. When I told him that he said that he preferred Spirited Away. Don't get me wrong, Spirited Away is great but Ponyo's... Ponyo's just spectacular!!!
We were sitting in the cafe, again. I was beginning to think that we needed a new hangout. He had a cup of coffee and I had a cup of hot chocolate. I was wondering about his tattoo, so I asked, luckily he was wearing just a T-shirt and a hoodie so he took it off and rolled up his sleeve. I'd expected something cliche and ordinary like a dragon or a snake but I should have known better, Sōsuke's not ordinary. It was a beautiful garden with jasmine; like my mother's back in London, crocuses with violet tips that bleached into pastel lilac that bleached into pale mauve and the peonies, oh the peonies; peachy pink ones with hints of sunset orange, white ones; not stark or clinical but with depth like ivory. Each flower was perfection. I couldn't help myself and before I thought my hands were reaching for his arm to touch, to get a better look. I stopped when he twitched and remembered to ask if it was okay. He chuckled and said it was. The peonies hang down from his shoulder caressed by the deep green shrubbery of jasmine which itself was spotted with tiny white jasmine flowers while the crocuses exploded from his elbow down to his forearm. I leaned in to smell as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if the garden on his arm was alive. I laughed at my sheer stupidity. He cocked a questioning eyebrow. I ignored him and carried on studying this garden which seemed to follow the subtle undulations of his arm. Just then I had a thought that it would have been spectacular if he could have tattooed a peony on his palm so that he was always holding it. I told him I was pretty much indifferent to gardens but this was officially my favourite. He chuckled again. Apparently it had been his original design so my praise was very much welcomed. We talked about why he got the tattoo and why I hadn't. I told him that I'd somehow convinced myself that keeping my body a blank canvas was just as big a statement as being covered in a huge one. He laughed again. Apparently I was very funny today.
But today was my turn to ask the question and so I reminded him of that. I beamed as he ran his thumb and index finger across his mouth like a zip. When I asked him what he was doing working in the cafe he remarked that it was something to do while he figured out what he really wanted to do. Seeing as I'm a bit of a late bloomer I could understand. I asked if he was a native of Tokyo. Nope, he said he was from Gunma and that he'd moved here to be closer to his brother. His family owned a fabric company and they specialised in dyeing. I popped up like a bunny, my ears were at attention. I'd been resting on the table as I listened but this really got my attention. It was like my book, my Japanese fashion book that I'd bought years ago and still adored. I asked him if he knew of the processes in dyeing and he gave me a "of course I do", playful, chiding kinda look. Ever since I'd read that book I'd been interested in fabric dyeing, alas none of my attempts came to fruition because my vision was often too complicated for my amateur skills. I tend to get overly ambitious about projects I lack the skill to finish.
Hold on a sec, your little brother doesn't look like he's fully Japanese I said. So you finally realised who he was, he said. I nodded and waited for an answer. He was resting his head on the palm of his hand while his eyes wandered around the room for a couple of seconds before they came back to mine. He said that his parents were divorced and that his mother had remarried a French guy. So your father's still in Gunma. Yeah, he replied, he was running the business. He didn't seem like he wanted to linger on the topic so I told him his brother was cute but sneaky. He grinned as if he knew just how sneaky he was.
I told him that he was a bag of wonders and that reminded me to ask him about our first meeting. I told him that I thought he was having a bad day and that I was making him work harder than he needed or wanted to. He laughed again, he was a barrel of laughs today. He said that he had been having a bad day because he'd had a cycling accident the day before and his back felt like shit and he'd preferred to have sat at home in pain than stand at work in pain but he couldn't afford to miss a day of work. That explains the Mintease, I said. Actually it was Tiger balm, he replied.
When we got to the station, he asked if I'd be willing to tutor him in English. I said sure, I enjoyed his company so I'd be willing to help him out. He didn't need to pay cos I felt bad taking money from him when I was getting as much out of our conversations as he would get out of my tutoring. When I told him as much, he looked uncomfortable at the idea and I could tell we were gonna have to compromise on that one. It seemed as good a time as any so I told him that lesson one was formal introductions.
Hello, my name is SayJapanese. It's a pleasure to meet you.
We were sitting in the cafe, again. I was beginning to think that we needed a new hangout. He had a cup of coffee and I had a cup of hot chocolate. I was wondering about his tattoo, so I asked, luckily he was wearing just a T-shirt and a hoodie so he took it off and rolled up his sleeve. I'd expected something cliche and ordinary like a dragon or a snake but I should have known better, Sōsuke's not ordinary. It was a beautiful garden with jasmine; like my mother's back in London, crocuses with violet tips that bleached into pastel lilac that bleached into pale mauve and the peonies, oh the peonies; peachy pink ones with hints of sunset orange, white ones; not stark or clinical but with depth like ivory. Each flower was perfection. I couldn't help myself and before I thought my hands were reaching for his arm to touch, to get a better look. I stopped when he twitched and remembered to ask if it was okay. He chuckled and said it was. The peonies hang down from his shoulder caressed by the deep green shrubbery of jasmine which itself was spotted with tiny white jasmine flowers while the crocuses exploded from his elbow down to his forearm. I leaned in to smell as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if the garden on his arm was alive. I laughed at my sheer stupidity. He cocked a questioning eyebrow. I ignored him and carried on studying this garden which seemed to follow the subtle undulations of his arm. Just then I had a thought that it would have been spectacular if he could have tattooed a peony on his palm so that he was always holding it. I told him I was pretty much indifferent to gardens but this was officially my favourite. He chuckled again. Apparently it had been his original design so my praise was very much welcomed. We talked about why he got the tattoo and why I hadn't. I told him that I'd somehow convinced myself that keeping my body a blank canvas was just as big a statement as being covered in a huge one. He laughed again. Apparently I was very funny today.
But today was my turn to ask the question and so I reminded him of that. I beamed as he ran his thumb and index finger across his mouth like a zip. When I asked him what he was doing working in the cafe he remarked that it was something to do while he figured out what he really wanted to do. Seeing as I'm a bit of a late bloomer I could understand. I asked if he was a native of Tokyo. Nope, he said he was from Gunma and that he'd moved here to be closer to his brother. His family owned a fabric company and they specialised in dyeing. I popped up like a bunny, my ears were at attention. I'd been resting on the table as I listened but this really got my attention. It was like my book, my Japanese fashion book that I'd bought years ago and still adored. I asked him if he knew of the processes in dyeing and he gave me a "of course I do", playful, chiding kinda look. Ever since I'd read that book I'd been interested in fabric dyeing, alas none of my attempts came to fruition because my vision was often too complicated for my amateur skills. I tend to get overly ambitious about projects I lack the skill to finish.
Hold on a sec, your little brother doesn't look like he's fully Japanese I said. So you finally realised who he was, he said. I nodded and waited for an answer. He was resting his head on the palm of his hand while his eyes wandered around the room for a couple of seconds before they came back to mine. He said that his parents were divorced and that his mother had remarried a French guy. So your father's still in Gunma. Yeah, he replied, he was running the business. He didn't seem like he wanted to linger on the topic so I told him his brother was cute but sneaky. He grinned as if he knew just how sneaky he was.
I told him that he was a bag of wonders and that reminded me to ask him about our first meeting. I told him that I thought he was having a bad day and that I was making him work harder than he needed or wanted to. He laughed again, he was a barrel of laughs today. He said that he had been having a bad day because he'd had a cycling accident the day before and his back felt like shit and he'd preferred to have sat at home in pain than stand at work in pain but he couldn't afford to miss a day of work. That explains the Mintease, I said. Actually it was Tiger balm, he replied.
When we got to the station, he asked if I'd be willing to tutor him in English. I said sure, I enjoyed his company so I'd be willing to help him out. He didn't need to pay cos I felt bad taking money from him when I was getting as much out of our conversations as he would get out of my tutoring. When I told him as much, he looked uncomfortable at the idea and I could tell we were gonna have to compromise on that one. It seemed as good a time as any so I told him that lesson one was formal introductions.
Hello, my name is SayJapanese. It's a pleasure to meet you.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The September Issue vol.1 chp 5 Robin who?
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
The September Issue vol.1 chp 4 My New Friend
Turns out Perky Ken was actually the older brother of a student. With all the reluctance I got from the beginning, he sang like a Canary when I asked him if we'd met before. Apparently I had had enough of an impression on the student for him to tell his brother about me. It's a small world; the chances that I would go back to that cafe, that he would put two and two together are probably like one in a million but I hate math so I'm not even gonna try guessing. I couldn't recall his brother's face at that moment - I had met so many kids since I got here - so I just nodded and smiled and pretended to know.
Perky Ken was pleasant looking, now that I was taking a proper look at him, in the way Asian men are. I'm not sure how to describe it, but for the most part, I'm not attracted to Asian men and I would never call one sexy, so I just settle on pleasant. It's not like I wouldn't go out with an Asian man, it's just that I don't react to most of them. Then again I've got odd taste in men... but that's another post. The even funnier thing is that I don't react to black men either, even I think it's weird considering I'm black. I kinda think of them the way I think of my male family members, except they're not.
Like I said Perky Ken was pleasant. He was about 5'10"; but being as short as I am everyone seems tall to me. He had black neck length hair in a ponytail/bun thing and a scruffy beard. He had light brown eyes and an ear piercing, the tragus type. I once had delusions of getting that piercing done but body art of any kind should be done on impulse coz if you wait, you won't ever do it and I waited. He had on a pair of jeans, a Radiohead T-shirt and underneath that was a long-sleeve grey T-shirt. It didn't seem long enough to cover his arm so I could see the beginnings of a tattoo just beneath his wrist. It was a big. I like big coloured tattoos that cover a substantial portion of the body. I also had delusions of a torso length tattoo made up of an assortment of stars, as in twinkle twinkle. I figured if I was gonna have a tattoo it was gonna be one everybody would know about, again I waited. I think it's called a sleeve when it covers the entire length of the arm. I suspected it was a dragon but I couldn't get a good look and I didn't want to stare. He was leaning over as he rattled on about his brother, he smelled of some eau de toilette (I'm not good with perfumes) and Mintease??? I hate the smell of anything menthol based do I offered him a seat to stop him from washing over me.
We talked about me, his brother - just as I figured out who he was - and what's always on everyone's mind: "Why did you wanna study Japanese?" The funny thing was, there I was using the politest Japanese the situation required and there he was talking to me ask if I was a childhood friend. He was odd. His enthusiasm was intoxicating. I was drunk on it and so I wanted to know more. He was odd but I liked it, he wasn't shielded like everybody else.
After about 20 min his boss called him to get back to work and I realised that I hadn't asked his name which, thinking about it now, was kinda random because we'd been talking for the longest time I'd spent talking to anyone here in a casual setting. I hadn't asked and he hadn't offered. So as he got up I asked. I should already know his name he said. I smiled and he said "My name is Sōsuke", I smiled wider...
Perky Ken was pleasant looking, now that I was taking a proper look at him, in the way Asian men are. I'm not sure how to describe it, but for the most part, I'm not attracted to Asian men and I would never call one sexy, so I just settle on pleasant. It's not like I wouldn't go out with an Asian man, it's just that I don't react to most of them. Then again I've got odd taste in men... but that's another post. The even funnier thing is that I don't react to black men either, even I think it's weird considering I'm black. I kinda think of them the way I think of my male family members, except they're not.
Like I said Perky Ken was pleasant. He was about 5'10"; but being as short as I am everyone seems tall to me. He had black neck length hair in a ponytail/bun thing and a scruffy beard. He had light brown eyes and an ear piercing, the tragus type. I once had delusions of getting that piercing done but body art of any kind should be done on impulse coz if you wait, you won't ever do it and I waited. He had on a pair of jeans, a Radiohead T-shirt and underneath that was a long-sleeve grey T-shirt. It didn't seem long enough to cover his arm so I could see the beginnings of a tattoo just beneath his wrist. It was a big. I like big coloured tattoos that cover a substantial portion of the body. I also had delusions of a torso length tattoo made up of an assortment of stars, as in twinkle twinkle. I figured if I was gonna have a tattoo it was gonna be one everybody would know about, again I waited. I think it's called a sleeve when it covers the entire length of the arm. I suspected it was a dragon but I couldn't get a good look and I didn't want to stare. He was leaning over as he rattled on about his brother, he smelled of some eau de toilette (I'm not good with perfumes) and Mintease??? I hate the smell of anything menthol based do I offered him a seat to stop him from washing over me.
We talked about me, his brother - just as I figured out who he was - and what's always on everyone's mind: "Why did you wanna study Japanese?" The funny thing was, there I was using the politest Japanese the situation required and there he was talking to me ask if I was a childhood friend. He was odd. His enthusiasm was intoxicating. I was drunk on it and so I wanted to know more. He was odd but I liked it, he wasn't shielded like everybody else.
After about 20 min his boss called him to get back to work and I realised that I hadn't asked his name which, thinking about it now, was kinda random because we'd been talking for the longest time I'd spent talking to anyone here in a casual setting. I hadn't asked and he hadn't offered. So as he got up I asked. I should already know his name he said. I smiled and he said "My name is Sōsuke", I smiled wider...
You once asked me...
...'How did we get here?'. And I had the answer straight away because I could never forget.
It was the first week of 2011 and the year hadn't started off the way I thought it would. I saw 2011 as my turning point. But nothing happened. I had trouble with university, or the lack there of, my A'levels and my dependency on Mother. I was in a funk, a depression. I wasn't supposed to be here, you see. I should have been in Japan loving or hating it. My room should have been empty.
In the beginning, I'd wake up everyday at 11am: have a bath, go downstairs and sit in the chair closest to the adaptor. I felt nothing so I said nothing. I was tired and sad and at that moment I wanted to be by myself. Unfortunately, all of you were home for the holidays. I wanted out... I couldn't breathe. Nurse was revising at the time and after having sat through three days of it your voice was like nails on a blackboard - I couldn't bare it. You remember, Nurse, you sat in the adjacent three-seater (which was her chair), and Mother was in the single beside me. Mami, you came down late so you got the floor, you were pregnant then, and we used to laugh about how you were having twins cos you were showing so early. I had to get away from you all and crawl into my bed and sleep because that was all I could think of doing that would help. As I got up I remember Mami asking me if I was going up to study and I said yes. What I was really thinking was "Whatever makes you happy. I can tell you'd prefer to sit on a chair so, enjoy".
I slept that day. I didn't eat or drink. I remember Mother poking her head in to ask what was wrong, and I remember thinking that you didn't really want to know, that maybe this was more of a formality for you. I told you I was tired and you were happy to leave it at that. I slept the next day. I ate a little. No one came to my room.
I started my A'level revision soon after, but I stopped going downstairs and I hardly ate. I thought about going to the Doctor but I was unsure and I couldn't will myself to go.
What upset me most was that you were all so willing to accept that 'she was just upstairs in her room and would come out when she felt like it wasn't our place to interfere'. I wanted someone to talk to; someone I could tell that I felt stuck and isolated and a failure. I needed someone to poke their head in my door and ask if I was okay. Someone to know me well enough to know that me saying I was okay was a lie. I wanted someone to sit at the edge of my bed while I lay in it. I wanted you to eventually ask me again what was wrong. But you never did. And having me as the absentee family member seemed to work for you guys. So I stayed upstairs and I studied and slept and ate...sometimes. And after a while it was like I was never there.
It was the first week of 2011 and the year hadn't started off the way I thought it would. I saw 2011 as my turning point. But nothing happened. I had trouble with university, or the lack there of, my A'levels and my dependency on Mother. I was in a funk, a depression. I wasn't supposed to be here, you see. I should have been in Japan loving or hating it. My room should have been empty.
In the beginning, I'd wake up everyday at 11am: have a bath, go downstairs and sit in the chair closest to the adaptor. I felt nothing so I said nothing. I was tired and sad and at that moment I wanted to be by myself. Unfortunately, all of you were home for the holidays. I wanted out... I couldn't breathe. Nurse was revising at the time and after having sat through three days of it your voice was like nails on a blackboard - I couldn't bare it. You remember, Nurse, you sat in the adjacent three-seater (which was her chair), and Mother was in the single beside me. Mami, you came down late so you got the floor, you were pregnant then, and we used to laugh about how you were having twins cos you were showing so early. I had to get away from you all and crawl into my bed and sleep because that was all I could think of doing that would help. As I got up I remember Mami asking me if I was going up to study and I said yes. What I was really thinking was "Whatever makes you happy. I can tell you'd prefer to sit on a chair so, enjoy".
I slept that day. I didn't eat or drink. I remember Mother poking her head in to ask what was wrong, and I remember thinking that you didn't really want to know, that maybe this was more of a formality for you. I told you I was tired and you were happy to leave it at that. I slept the next day. I ate a little. No one came to my room.
I started my A'level revision soon after, but I stopped going downstairs and I hardly ate. I thought about going to the Doctor but I was unsure and I couldn't will myself to go.
What upset me most was that you were all so willing to accept that 'she was just upstairs in her room and would come out when she felt like it wasn't our place to interfere'. I wanted someone to talk to; someone I could tell that I felt stuck and isolated and a failure. I needed someone to poke their head in my door and ask if I was okay. Someone to know me well enough to know that me saying I was okay was a lie. I wanted someone to sit at the edge of my bed while I lay in it. I wanted you to eventually ask me again what was wrong. But you never did. And having me as the absentee family member seemed to work for you guys. So I stayed upstairs and I studied and slept and ate...sometimes. And after a while it was like I was never there.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
The September Issue vol.1 chp 3 Perky Ken
I went back to that cafe. Not to look for him but to make a new friend. I wouldn't normally seek out friends but I realise that, along with an unlimited access to the world wide web, friends are necessary for my balance. I entered the cafe with a ding-a-ling (it still had an effect) and sat in my little corner. Unfortunately, the jaded waitress was absent - probably her day off. She'd been replaced by a super perky waiter with a super smile; perky creeps me out. He approached me with a sincere, wide-eyed smile and I couldn't help but do the same; it was an unconscious reflex, my go to instinct like how a moth is compelled to fly towards the light, I am compelled to smile. It's a curse. I missed the jaded waitress. I could remain indifferent with her. My shield of sugar and spice and everything nice had seen better days. It wasn't because of Japan. In my 'good first impression' mode, I gave no opinions on my beliefs, interests...TV, I was a cordial vault. Back in London I wasn't constantly meeting new people so I could relax every once in a while. This place, this new place made it difficult to get to know anyone or for anyone to get to know me. My defences were permanently up.
Perky's cheeks started to twitch. It was a bit devilish but I smiled back wider and he followed with his eyes screaming irritation which made me smile even more. I decided to order because it was getting cruel. I ordered a hot chocolate, of course, and an omelette. It came and I ate. It had mushrooms, and spinach; I'm not a fan of mushrooms but once something is placed in front of me I feel compelled to eat. Maybe it's having lived in Ghana for all those years; you dare not leave perfectly good food on the plate. It wasn't about the poverty, it was about culture. You did what you were told without question.
So I finished everything and ordered some water from Perky Ken while I tried take two of reading Norwegian Wood. He came back with my water, I thanked him and went back to my book. I expected to hear his footsteps as he walked away but it never came. I eventually looked up to find him staring down at me, intensely. Something had piqued his interest. He looked like, for the first time in the 20 minutes we'd known each other, he actually wanted to talk to me. I figured it was because of the book. I titled my head to the right and gave him the warmest smile I could muster. It was my best comforting teacher look, the look were you pretend that you're understanding and neutral and a haven. I'm not normally underhanded with my powers but he'd piqued my interest. He didn't bite. He excused himself when he caught me looking. I watched as he went behind the counter and came out with a wipe, pretending to be busy, wiping clean tables. So I bit.
Perky's cheeks started to twitch. It was a bit devilish but I smiled back wider and he followed with his eyes screaming irritation which made me smile even more. I decided to order because it was getting cruel. I ordered a hot chocolate, of course, and an omelette. It came and I ate. It had mushrooms, and spinach; I'm not a fan of mushrooms but once something is placed in front of me I feel compelled to eat. Maybe it's having lived in Ghana for all those years; you dare not leave perfectly good food on the plate. It wasn't about the poverty, it was about culture. You did what you were told without question.
So I finished everything and ordered some water from Perky Ken while I tried take two of reading Norwegian Wood. He came back with my water, I thanked him and went back to my book. I expected to hear his footsteps as he walked away but it never came. I eventually looked up to find him staring down at me, intensely. Something had piqued his interest. He looked like, for the first time in the 20 minutes we'd known each other, he actually wanted to talk to me. I figured it was because of the book. I titled my head to the right and gave him the warmest smile I could muster. It was my best comforting teacher look, the look were you pretend that you're understanding and neutral and a haven. I'm not normally underhanded with my powers but he'd piqued my interest. He didn't bite. He excused himself when he caught me looking. I watched as he went behind the counter and came out with a wipe, pretending to be busy, wiping clean tables. So I bit.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
The September Issue vol.1 chp 2 Who the hell was that guy?
I didn't notice him at first; but that's what I do, I don't notice, it's necessary for my sanity. He was standing outside one of the boutiques I'd visited the week previous. He wanted shelter, like I did. It was pouring and I had my 'fro out so there was no way in hell I was gonna walk home through that. I wouldn't even if my house was 2 feet away. In case you don't know, afro hair shrinks severely in water. The day hadn't started out that badly; it was bright, a bit chilly but the warmth of the sunshine made that okay. It reminded me of England, I seldom missed England but on days like this it reminded me and when I remembered I missed. I was busy cursing the clouds when I realised that he was there. I noticed the smoke before I actually noticed him. Second-hand smoke is a no no for me. I wanna die because of something I did and not because some moron decided to pick up an addiction. I took two steps away and covered my nose with my scarf, it probably did me no good but at least it smelled delicious, like a flowerbomb. I didn't care if he knew why.
It poured and poured, there was no sign of it ending so I retreated to a near-by cafe. He followed. It would have creeped me out if I was back in London but I was in Tokyo. I didn't really find any single person threatening, mainly because I was often viewed as the threat. Maybe that's too harsh, maybe I should say that I was viewed as an intimidating figure. But like typical Japanese they went out of they're way to be polite. It always amused me in the sporadic occasions when I bothered to observe the world around me; there's nothing intimidation about my stature.
As I entered the cafe there was a ding-a-ling...you know, that ringing sound from the shop bell. For a split second I felt like a magical woodland creature and that ding-a-ling was innate, an effervescent way of announcing my presence, it came from within me and it brought a smile to my face - my brain was quite fanciful today and I was enjoying it. The cafe was empty and on the small side but clean and kinda cosy like everything in Japan. I love cosy, I can't get enough of it; after 19 years in a London terraced house, I like small. I once visited my cousin while he lived in Atlanta, I often found myself house-bound when he went work. It wasn't that Atlanta was boring or anything like that, it was the roads... they freaked me out. They were huge and intimidating and they had matching huge and intimidating cars riding on them.
It was near empty; just an old guy sitting in the corner nearest to the entrance reading the day's paper while sipping on something hot, coffee maybe. I hate coffee, the smell pungent and the taste bitter. But the cafe was perfect for me because even though the old guy was sipping on the Devils hot drink there was enough space for me to get away from it. I found myself a corner similar to the old guys and glanced over the menu. I hardly read magazines or leaflets or things like that, I just skim-read looking for keywords, in this case it was 'Hot Chocolate'. I heard a ding-a-ling and there he was standing in the doorway, I quickly looked back at the menu and tried my hardest to read it. He had my attention though. And when I finally looked at him, I mean stole a glance and really looked at him I had a physical reaction to him. My brain was on fire, my neurons were like fireworks, they were lit in succession so that each flare corresponded to each stolen glance; something new and intriguing was revealed each time. It was like Guy Fawkes Night.
He wasn't Japanese, he was a westerner so he stood out. I make it a point not to hang around too many westerners; they form groups and they get into a bitching hold. He was tall, anyone is tall to a 5ft nothing like me but I'd say he was about 6ft 2in, he had dark brown hair and matching eyes. He was wearing an Iggy Pop T-shirt and a pair of stone washed jeans. He must have been cold but I did appreciate the love for Iggy. He looked marvelous. I thanked the gods, even tough I'm pretty much an atheist, that I decided to dress up today. He had a bit of a beard, not so thick that you couldn't see the skin beneath, but thick enough so that you could call it a beard instead of a shadow. He looked irritated, or at least that's how I perceived it. I ordered a hot chocolate from the jaded waitress, probably cos she was working a solo shift. I was drawn to her blase... maybe I'd visit again. I nursed my beverage while I tried to re-read Norwegian Wood. The rain stopped after a while and I hadn't gotten any further in the book. It felt like we'd been there for ages and I was acutely aware. I took the reprieve as my opportunity, got my things together and left with a ding-a-ling. I wanted to know more but I'm kinda inexperienced when it comes to the opposite sex. I glanced back and he was looking which was good, but he still looked pissed, which I just didn't get.
It poured and poured, there was no sign of it ending so I retreated to a near-by cafe. He followed. It would have creeped me out if I was back in London but I was in Tokyo. I didn't really find any single person threatening, mainly because I was often viewed as the threat. Maybe that's too harsh, maybe I should say that I was viewed as an intimidating figure. But like typical Japanese they went out of they're way to be polite. It always amused me in the sporadic occasions when I bothered to observe the world around me; there's nothing intimidation about my stature.
As I entered the cafe there was a ding-a-ling...you know, that ringing sound from the shop bell. For a split second I felt like a magical woodland creature and that ding-a-ling was innate, an effervescent way of announcing my presence, it came from within me and it brought a smile to my face - my brain was quite fanciful today and I was enjoying it. The cafe was empty and on the small side but clean and kinda cosy like everything in Japan. I love cosy, I can't get enough of it; after 19 years in a London terraced house, I like small. I once visited my cousin while he lived in Atlanta, I often found myself house-bound when he went work. It wasn't that Atlanta was boring or anything like that, it was the roads... they freaked me out. They were huge and intimidating and they had matching huge and intimidating cars riding on them.
It was near empty; just an old guy sitting in the corner nearest to the entrance reading the day's paper while sipping on something hot, coffee maybe. I hate coffee, the smell pungent and the taste bitter. But the cafe was perfect for me because even though the old guy was sipping on the Devils hot drink there was enough space for me to get away from it. I found myself a corner similar to the old guys and glanced over the menu. I hardly read magazines or leaflets or things like that, I just skim-read looking for keywords, in this case it was 'Hot Chocolate'. I heard a ding-a-ling and there he was standing in the doorway, I quickly looked back at the menu and tried my hardest to read it. He had my attention though. And when I finally looked at him, I mean stole a glance and really looked at him I had a physical reaction to him. My brain was on fire, my neurons were like fireworks, they were lit in succession so that each flare corresponded to each stolen glance; something new and intriguing was revealed each time. It was like Guy Fawkes Night.
He wasn't Japanese, he was a westerner so he stood out. I make it a point not to hang around too many westerners; they form groups and they get into a bitching hold. He was tall, anyone is tall to a 5ft nothing like me but I'd say he was about 6ft 2in, he had dark brown hair and matching eyes. He was wearing an Iggy Pop T-shirt and a pair of stone washed jeans. He must have been cold but I did appreciate the love for Iggy. He looked marvelous. I thanked the gods, even tough I'm pretty much an atheist, that I decided to dress up today. He had a bit of a beard, not so thick that you couldn't see the skin beneath, but thick enough so that you could call it a beard instead of a shadow. He looked irritated, or at least that's how I perceived it. I ordered a hot chocolate from the jaded waitress, probably cos she was working a solo shift. I was drawn to her blase... maybe I'd visit again. I nursed my beverage while I tried to re-read Norwegian Wood. The rain stopped after a while and I hadn't gotten any further in the book. It felt like we'd been there for ages and I was acutely aware. I took the reprieve as my opportunity, got my things together and left with a ding-a-ling. I wanted to know more but I'm kinda inexperienced when it comes to the opposite sex. I glanced back and he was looking which was good, but he still looked pissed, which I just didn't get.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The September Issue vol.1 chp 1 Departures
I've packed my bags. I'm ready. I'm so excited that I can't sleep but I need to sleep because I'm flying tomorrow and I don't sleep on planes. Economy is uncomfortable, even for 5ft nothing me. I could take a Tylenol but that would leave me sluggish in the morning and I don't want that. I'm full to the brim with anticipation. I'm going to Osaka tomorrow. Sayonara London. Sayonara UK. Sayonara Europe. ^_^
Sunday, September 5, 2010
The September Issue vol.3 chp 1
I'm one of those confident types, I wear want I want when I want and anything I can't afford I make. I've realised all of my dreams. I'm as artistic and free as I ever wanted to be. I live in Japan. I started off in Osaka and after a year I moved to Yokohama, Tokyo. I hang around in Shibuya, Omotesando and Daikanyama regularly. I experience the street fashion I'm obsessed with and better yet I learn the language, the culture, the people. I am right where I want to be. I have my own dinky, minuscule tatami mat flat. I'm losing weight but that's welcomed. I'm on a budget and that means no matter how awful my cooking, I have to eat it. My closet space is non-existent but I pack lightly. I use a futon that I air out when the weather permits. The neighbours aren't very chatty - not like in Osaka - but I figure it's only a matter of time.
I work as a English teacher. Everyday I wake up in the morning, brush my teeth, shower, do my hair and get dressed; preferably something quirky but formal... not too formal, mind you; I'm not part of the herd of office, business, all-round serious people in this world. I work with these really great kids, some of them are called delinquents but I've seen worse. No one expects too much from me, they treat me as the foreigner, always different, never Japanese. It doesn't bother me that much because I'm still wondering around Japan with rose-tinted glasses. I take part in after-school activities like archery and film club. Commuting back from work, I stop by the 100 yen store to pick up some underwear and slippers.
On weekends I tutor a student for an hour; just for conversational English. We sit in a cafe and I have some type of fruit juice in the summer or hot chocolate in the winter; I don't drink tea or coffee. My student's a boy, he's painfully shy but I suspect that's because I'm foreign and not just any foreign, I'm black foreign. It doesn't bother me, though. He's a kid. Talking to him is like pulling teeth but I don't care because I'm still getting paid. One day we'll find a common ground, somewhere we can connect, I hope.
After tutoring I call my girl, we're going to see a movie. We're not sure which, we're just gonna get there and then decide. My Japanese is pretty solid by now so I can watch a Japanese film with no worries. She's really cool. I met her at one of those uber cool vintage shops in Harajuku called Kinsella. She was rummaging around the scarf rack. I have a penchant for scarves. For some reason (I can't remember why) we start talking and we took it from there. Looking back it was very unusual for me to make a friend like that; I'm a bit of a loner, I'm an accidental loner... but a loner all the same. I head home for a clean up of my flat and I make a list of what I need. I head off the the mall in my high-waisted apparel jeans rolled up at the ankle and a cropped top I made out of African wax print. It's a warm enough day, though and I meet someone at the music store. We exchange numbers ^_^.
I get back home around 4:00pm and I'm out of my place just as soon as I got in. I need to get to the cinema's.
I work as a English teacher. Everyday I wake up in the morning, brush my teeth, shower, do my hair and get dressed; preferably something quirky but formal... not too formal, mind you; I'm not part of the herd of office, business, all-round serious people in this world. I work with these really great kids, some of them are called delinquents but I've seen worse. No one expects too much from me, they treat me as the foreigner, always different, never Japanese. It doesn't bother me that much because I'm still wondering around Japan with rose-tinted glasses. I take part in after-school activities like archery and film club. Commuting back from work, I stop by the 100 yen store to pick up some underwear and slippers.
On weekends I tutor a student for an hour; just for conversational English. We sit in a cafe and I have some type of fruit juice in the summer or hot chocolate in the winter; I don't drink tea or coffee. My student's a boy, he's painfully shy but I suspect that's because I'm foreign and not just any foreign, I'm black foreign. It doesn't bother me, though. He's a kid. Talking to him is like pulling teeth but I don't care because I'm still getting paid. One day we'll find a common ground, somewhere we can connect, I hope.
After tutoring I call my girl, we're going to see a movie. We're not sure which, we're just gonna get there and then decide. My Japanese is pretty solid by now so I can watch a Japanese film with no worries. She's really cool. I met her at one of those uber cool vintage shops in Harajuku called Kinsella. She was rummaging around the scarf rack. I have a penchant for scarves. For some reason (I can't remember why) we start talking and we took it from there. Looking back it was very unusual for me to make a friend like that; I'm a bit of a loner, I'm an accidental loner... but a loner all the same. I head home for a clean up of my flat and I make a list of what I need. I head off the the mall in my high-waisted apparel jeans rolled up at the ankle and a cropped top I made out of African wax print. It's a warm enough day, though and I meet someone at the music store. We exchange numbers ^_^.
I get back home around 4:00pm and I'm out of my place just as soon as I got in. I need to get to the cinema's.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Waiting
It's my last free Sunday, from now on I must study earnestly. I must prepare for my resits (I'm not quite ready to talk about that situation yet), I must increase my kanji vocab......KYAAA :) and extra reading necessary for my third year project on Circadian clocks of Drosophila melanogaster....yay (can you feel the joy). Obviously learning learning Japanese is the best part of my summer plans, the only problem with learning a language by yourself when your a Ghanaian with no Japanese friends is that you don't have anyone to practise with........wnd we all know "Practise makes perfect". I guess you would be thinking why doesn't she just make a Japanese friend....but for a shy, modest lass like myself it's not an option, I'm not that extroverted. Maybe it's my Catholic School upbringing but that would be a lie because I barely believe in God, maybe it's due to my unbalanced rearing; somewhere, somehow I got really withdrawn and lost my spark........alas that is the biggest tragedy of my life........so far??????
There are so many things Japan represents for me; I get to be independant by living alone and all that jazz, learning a new language because speaking as a Biologist that hates Biology or any science for that matter, I am not planning on having a career in it. Why did I commit myself to this degree.....that's another story for another time. I get to meet with people and a culture completely different to anything I have ever known. This is my first ever blog so if only 1 person reads it I would say thank you and sorry for being so scattered.
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