I wouldn’t be a white guy in Japan if I didn’t meet a Japanese girl. Naturally, I met her at the top of a mountain hike in the dark of night. This particular girl, like most, didn’t speak English. Not at all really. And like most Japanese girls, she looked like she was 16 but was actually 32. I found this out through the old Japanese woman I was hiking with, who looked to be about 40 but was probably in her early 100s, translated for me.
At the bottom of the mountain the old Japanese woman scampered off into the darkness, leaving just Taka and myself, with only vulgar gestures to communicate our intentions.
When we were done hanging out and she was out of smiles to exchange, I tried to say goodbye. And tried. And tried. Taka, for whatever reason, didn’t understand I was saying goodbye. She just stood there. First she stood and stared at me at the train gate. Then she came with me to the train. Then she deposited me on the train and stood there outside the door… staring.
*
I waved, she waved. Then stared. So, for lack of any idea what to do, I stared. And stared. And waved. And bowed (cause I get their customs). And she stood. Then I went over to her and said goodbye again. Then she got on the train and the doors closed. Of course, this wasn’t her train… so she got off at the next stop… where she stood and watched as the train carried me away.
This is not because we were in love. It was just really fucking awkward.
-brendan
* actual girl may not have been wearing traditional Japanese attire
