Dave's profileTravelling DragonBlogLists Tools Help

Blog


    June 15

    Conversation with my sister

    My sister in Osaka, Japan works in a bar where she's often told she looks very Japanese. She writes a blog Incognito Mosquito. We chat on MSN Messenger quite often. This is an edited transcript of a particularly amusing conversation we had. I'm in green, she's in blue.
     
    The bar's good, tiring...but awesome meeting lotsa different people. Occassionally I feel like a decorative object.
    Why decorative?
    Owner: "This is Samantha. Look at how tall she is. Her hips come up to HERE on me.." Customers: "She's cute! And such white teeth! And such a small face!"
    You have a small face?
    All foreigners do.
    Ahh...
    Including Japanese-looking ones like me too, apparently.
    Not like the Fat-Faces of Japan?
    I'm tempted to say that; but when I ask them what a "small face" is, the women start to go on about how large their face is. My friend C has an especially small face. There's a book called "You know you've been in Japan too long when..." and one of the things is: "When you look in the mirror one day and think: 'Oh my god, my face really IS small!'"
    Do you think you have a small face? That's such a quirky thing to attribute to foreigners.
    I have a face in proportion with the rest of my body. The Japanese theory is that a small face puts the rest of your body in proportion. The Japanese comment on the weirdest things.
    June 13

    Heatwave

    A London heatwave of 28 °C and cloudless skies results in scores of people stripping off in Hyde Park. While walking in nearby High St Kensington (a shopping district), I pause to eat my fruit salad and casually-but-coincidentally study a shirtless youth with tanned muscles and aviator glasses stroll past. Shirtless, on High St Ken? I’m sorry, but Europride is next Saturday, not today.

     

    In London, people get paid a pittance to stand in the main street holding up signs pointing to shops down sidestreets. I pity the poor men having to work in this weather. One guy takes advantage of the sun to strip off and get a tan; his sign asks, “Which tan is the right one for you?” It advertises a tanning salon. I answer in my head, “The free one that your sign-holder’s getting right now!”

     

    I’m surprised at the number of skimpily clad people – rather delighted by the shirtless men. It’s so brazen here; you’d very rarely see this sort of sight in the CBD of Sydney, well, maybe except during Mardi Gras Parade time.