Kaerichatta

On the plane…

…”It’s just like any Japanese anime, but the music is dope,” says some Asian guy talking to some girl. Who uses dope that way anymore? And why do I understand him when he says that? In fact, I understand every nuance of every word that the people around me are saying. To talk at normal speed again. To use idioms and euphemisms and slang that were discarded long ago…

…Names of familiar cities – Seattle, Spokane (why did Spokane make it on the map and not Portland?), Marin – involuntarilymybreathcatchesatthethoughtoftheboywhooncelivedtherebeforerememberingthatnowheexistsonlyinmyheart – Oakland, San Jose, San Francisco…

On the ground…

…”Could you unfold it for me? Like this?,” says a man condescendingly. “San Francisco. Go,” says another. Amerikajingasugoishitsureidane. Awake too long with too little sleep. Are my nerves shot or has everyone always been this loud…

Unpacking…

…All of my stuff reeks of cigarettes. Did I smoke that much? Or has it always smelled that way and I just never noticed? Who knew the smell of cigarettes could be so poignant – conjuring up memories of the subtler things – both sweet and rancid at the same time…

…I am a foreigner in my own country.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s