It's true. It's a small feeling and it is by no means overwhelming or debilitating but still it lingers here and there. Strange though, in Japan it only seems to happen when I am around other people. Last night, I decided to drink a couple beers in the park. This is my new drinking spot I've decided because you spend way less money than in a bar and enjoy yourself just as much + you get to be outside! What is really wrong with drinking in public anyway? Aoba Park in Shizuoka is a formidable city park, it runs the length of the central urban area (several blocks) has nice benches with good lamps, a few statues and two fountains. There is always something going on there no matter what time of day so its perfect for people watching midnight beers. I sat drinking my Asahis, watching sweaty boys with their shirts off do tricks on BMX bikes and writing a letter to Noah. I was perfectly content and in fact really, really happy. Writing to No feels a bit like talking with him and he is one of my favorite people to bullshit with. The night was clear and warm and not too balmy. The nights here are a real treat. I had just finished my letter and was almost through the second beer when a painfully cute boy approached me, sat down next to me and asked in broken English what I was doing. We sort of struck up a conversation and began chatting in that limited way that I am able to chat with people in Japan. He said he was 25 and a salaryman. I lied about my age and said I was 25 too. I love "salaryman." It's so weird and sounds so depressing but tons of Japanese people will proudly tell you that's what they do. "I'm a salaryman." Yes, but what do you do?
Anyway, he was kind of trying to get a hold of his friends and seemed to be having a little difficulty with reception or something and apparently gave up. He said let's go have a beer. Sounds great, you are totally cute. Anyway we are on our way to have some sips and he is telling me that I am pretty and he likes my face, all that bullshit and I've already decided that I would kiss him back if he tried when his phone rings and its his friends. He is yelling at them incomprehensible in Japanese and before I know it he is asking for my phone number saying that he is sorry but he promised his friends he'd meet them and to please wait for him, he'll call me soon. What? This guy is ditching me? And asking me to wait around? I don't know if that shit works with Japanese girls but it sure don't with me. So he leaves. We aren't even out of the park yet. Whatever. I wasn't dying to kiss a stranger anyway even if he was an adorable salaryman but then it hit, that lonely feeling. I had been ditched. Alone. Again. I didn't even feel lonely before. Not fair.
Fine, good, better anyway. I'll just head home I am thinking when I see this blond girl walking alone dressed all in white. I had noticed her walking earlier and we kind of gave each other that look of acknowledgement that we were both single female foreigners in Japan, a silent greeting. She just kind of appeared out from around the corner and this time it was the most natural thing for us to stop and greet each other. "Hey girl, how are you?" I said to her. I could use a new gal pal. Especially after the incident with the salaryman.....She doesn't speak English. She is Russian. She seems kind of sweet though and there is something about her. She seemed like she wanted to talk to me too. We can't communicate though. She speaks Russian and Japanese and I speak, well, English. "Ah hell, let's have a drink?" I say and explain by gesture. Whatever, sometimes the communication barrier dissolves a little with a beer and this could be fun anyway, she looks sympathetic. She motions that she doesn't drink. She doesn't drink? She's Russian? All right then. Have a good night. I guess it's a wrap there too.
On my way home, for some reason I start thinking about Tero, the friend I lost last year to cancer and I'm missing him, although if he were still alive it's not like he'd be in Japan so I guess I'd miss him anyway but you understand it's not the same....
When I got home, as I was climbing the outdoor stairs to the third floor, I noticed this little bird sitting on the railing. She was quite still and just sat there looking at me. It occurred to me that she was there for me to see. I understand that birds are often messengers and representatives of lost loved ones. I wondered if she was hurt. I sat on the stairs watching her for a long time. She was a comfort but also I was concerned for her. I began to sing, lowly and quietly to her as I did to Tero just before he died. This seemed to settle her a little and it looked as if she was falling asleep. It made me feel better too. Eventually though a neighbor came home drunk, clamoring up the stairs. The neighbor joined me on the stairs and together we sat watching the bird for a little while, he shared a few sips of his beer with me and we began that awkward limited half English half Japanese conversation of introduction that by now I am accustomed to. Soon, he stood up to continue his stumble upstairs and to his apartment. In doing this, he started my little bird and she flew away. I was relieved to see that she could fly and felt blessed that she had joined me for so long. But now the bird was gone and so was the neighbor.
I started thinking about the Russian girl and it occurred to me that she was a prostitute. Super blond hair in this weird white dress and white high heels walking around the city alone. Tonight I almost kissed a stranger and almost made friends with a prostitute. Almost. Maybe the park is not the best place for midnight drinking....
Tomorrow I will mail Noah's letter, go to the market for produce, buy more tea, try to find a pair of slim black slacks for work and take a bike ride along the Pacific coast trail that I just discovered. If I accomplish all of this it will be a very successful day off.
I already feel better.
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