Letters from Japan

There was a time...many moons ago...that I lived, for a spell, in another country. I would send emails almost every day to a group of my friends and family about my experiences as a foreigner in Japan. This was 9 years ago. To this day, they still talk about my emails and how I should have published them. I am flattered but not convinced that anyone would buy a book about an American girl's emails from Japan. But I still have them in my Yahoo mailbox and so I thought I would share one I just found. It's kind of like 80's Flashback on the radio, but this is my 2002 Flashback on the blog. This email takes place in Shinjuku, Japan:

I am DISAPPOINTED!!! I come all the way out to the
internet cafe to find only TWO E-MAILS!!!  How can I
find inspiration to write when I have NO INCOMING
MAIL!!!  And ONE of those e-mails is a PORNOGRAPHIC
PICTURE! (thanks, Josh). Oh well, I am a survivor, so
I will press on, WITH OR WITHOUT YOU!

Where do I begin? How about the train station. This
morning I am standing at the train station in Chofu
waiting to catch the express train to Shinjuku when I
hear, "HELLO!"  I turn to see a sharp dressed Japanese
guy in a suit and tie.  I've heard about Japanese
people being eager to talk to Americans to practice
their English, but this guy seems very confident in
approaching me (most Japnese people are very shy
around strangers, especially foreigners...also known
as 'gaijen').  I say hello slowly as the thought dawns
on me that he is another Jehovah's Witness... then,
"DO YOU REMEMBER ME?!" OK, now I know that he can't be
a JW (I put back my cockroach spray), and I know that
he can't be some dude I met in a drunken stupor at a
bar late one night because I haven't had any late,
drunken, bar nights.  I tell him that I don't remember
him but he looks vaguely familiar.  "YOU TAUGHT ME
ENGLISH!"  THEN it all comes back to me.  I have only
taught him once before, about a month ago. He is a
student at NOVA.  So then I feel horrible, like
somehow I should have recognized him.  I tell him that
he wasn't wearing those glasses when I taught him and
THAT is why I didn't recognize him right away. (He
doesn't know how being in another country has made me
retarded and that I have a special seat on the train
just for me, right next to the pregnant women and
decaying old men).  He is on his way to an interview
and my train comes just seconds after he approaches
me, so he tells me to have a nice day and leaves. Why
do I feel bad?

OK, so I get to Shinjuku and come to the third floor
of Virgin Records.  There is always competition here
to get an open computer.  This place is always packed
and many times I have to wait a while before I can get
on a computer.  I ususally sit and drink my iced mocha
at a strategically placed table so that I can get the
eagle eyeview of as many computers as possible.  The
moment I see someone stirring from their chair, I
POUNCE!  Anyway, there is about a 50 yard distance
from the escalator to the computer area.  As I am
walking towards the cash register (you must purchase a
sandwich or beverage in order to use the computers) I
hear quickened footsteps behind me.  They are closing
in on me...no, THEY ARE PASSING ME!  So I pick up my
pace, this person is NOT going to pass me! I am first
in line!!!  But his stubby legs are faster than mine
and he passes me at the last second. Bastard! He
orders his drink and turns to scan the room for an
open computer.  The whole time I am swearing at him in
my head.  Of course there is ONE open computer and HE
GETS IT!  I get my coffee and sit at a table and look
over at the little rat-bastard at MY computer...AND HE
is looking at ME with a SMUG LOOK on his ratty little
face!  I can't believe it!  Not only has he cut in
front of me and stolen my computer, NOW he is looking
at me and laughing and giving me the "ha-ha" face!!!
I see a woman get up and I race over to where she is
sitting to find that there is no computer at that
spot.  Now I have to walk past the ha-ha bastard and
he says something to me.  I can't understand him and I
am about to give my usual Japanese phrase "Nihongo ga
wakarimasen" but then it dawns on me that this dude is
not Japanese.  "What?" I ask.  In a French accent he
repeats, "Where are you from?"  This guy steals my
computer and now he is going to hit on me???!!!
"America." 
"You have beautiful hair." 
"Thanks. You are a short, hairy bastard."
And I walk away. (Ok, so I left out the short, hairy
bastard part, but I DID walk away!)  Luckily, a
computer on the other side of the room opened up soon
after my encounter with the short, hairy, ha-ha
bastard so I didn't have to sit at a table and stew.

In other news, I received a notice in my mailbox at
work that I am getting a new roommate THE DAY AFTER
AMBER GETS HERE!!!!  I can't believe it!  I am going
to have to be creative and figure out a way to
provided bedding for everyone.  I ain't sleepin' on no
tiled floor!  Michael has been kind enough to offer to
send an inflatable bed but for the price of shipping,
I might as well just buy a futon here.  The good news
is that my new roommate is an American so I don't have
to worry about defending the actions of my country for
the last 3 weeks of my stay. 

OK, last story from me and I swear I'll be done.  On
Wednesdays I work at Nova on the north side of the
train station (Chofu Kita-guchi).  The other days of
the week, I work at Chofu Minami-guchi...sorry i just
got distracted.  The dude sitting to my immediate
right keeps squeezing a zit on the side of his neck
and now it is bleeding profusely and and he keeps
squeezing and wiping and wiping and sqeezing...and
typing.  I'll have to remember not to use that
keyboard next time.  Anyway, I have a student named
Masaki whom I adore.  He has benn taking English
classes FOREVER and he NEVER seems to progress (kinda
like my ma practicing the same song on the piano every
day for a year and never getting any better...love
you, Ma!). What makes him so cute is that he tries SO
HARD.  He studies at home all the time and comes to
class on a regular basis and really puts forth a lot
of effort.  Anyway, I really enjoy him and I had him
yesterday when I taught at Chofu Kita-guchi.  At the
end of our lesson, I told him that I may not see him
again because I would not be there next week (I am
taking next Wednesday off to pick Amber up) and I
would be leaving for the U.S. soon after. I told him
that if I did not see him again, it was nice meeting
him. Masaki dug deep within himself and pulled out all
the American sayings he could think of from his
limited repertoire..."That's life!...Have a nice
life!...Good luck with new life!" I didn't stop to
explain that "Have a nice life!" is usually followed
by a slamming of the door when one angry lover leaves
the other. I knew what he meant, he was wishing me
well with all the words he knew how.  I love Japanese
people.  (My favorite pupil, Masaki)