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11.18.08 pt. 2

today i walked around the whole town basically. i met my new Japanese teacher, Mari-san. very nice person. i'm very happy to have met her and will undoubtedly learn more than just the language. isn't that always the case? we always learn more than what's intended. the implicit knowledge one does not seeks, but finds. i got my ALIEN REGISTRATION CARD. i guess i'm a LEGAL ALIEN. ain't that a trip? again, it made me think of my mom and all they did to get to the U.S. i would say they were pioneers, but that's got a certain colonialistic sound to it, doesn't it? mom and dad were the first in their family and friends to make the trip over. and not legally. why'd they make the leap? of course, i had so much help with a personal translator to find the right bus, at the city hall and immigration office, at the restaurant. they had hardly no help. at a time when everything wasn't translated in Spanish. why would they put themselves through so much ? what did they hope to gain? what did they lose? what will i gain? what will i lose?

i walked so much. i loved it. it seems there are so many things and people to see on every block and corner. i saw many older people, on bikes on the bus, or just walking. they seemed relaxed and i saw a pair of ladies talking about something that looked 'juicy'. too cute. i saw a bunch of women looking FABULOUS. i've spotted a couple with some shake to their walk. it was such a pleasure to see. it was so refreshing to see some confidence and sexiness just walking down the street. no pretenses, just being. no look at me, just--I IS. so many women just put together. classy. so many young girls doing their thing. funky, sexy, cool. their funkiness controlled and balanced. there was this one girl, short blonde hair. not blonde. like orange. i wonder if that was her intention or if it's the color that can take because of her original dark color. i see that orange everywhere. i like it. as if it's saying, nu uh...can't go to far too the other side, imperialism be damned--this kami will not go without a fight. i wonder. she had short hair peeking under a black crochet hat, had black long sleeve shirt, oversized knitted sweater, unbuttoned. black shorts. with black tights underneath. she had on black japanese versions of uggs. she had a tote bag on her right shoulder. struttin'. STRUTTIN'. "salary" men in suits walking up and down the street and she is struttin. looking straight ahead. where she going and what she 'bout to do? she looked focused man.

i went inside a mall-equivilent. i think it's called Perko. maybe. not sure. i'm trying to take in so much, i miss a syllable here and there. again, beauty all around me. i wanted to just sit and watch and observe. we sat down and had lunch. there was this waiter. he had on a beenie with the fuzzy ball on top. black. medium length hair peeking underneath. black long sleeve fitted tee. almost skinny jeans, highwaters and some black high top converse. and a tattoo on his neck. what's he all about? what does he feel when he sees the viejita permanently hunched from her work in the rice fields? what does he see when he looks in the mirror? it's interesting the story that clothes tell. what we choose to say with our costume. the world is a stage and every piece we choose--symbolic. even if the choosing wasn't deliberate. right now, that is the only language i understand.

i'm looking forward to more walking.