I was born in Yokosuka after World War II. Above my
grandfather's watch shop.
I
grew up listening to the tick-tock of different clocks on the
wall.
I
used to sleep in a room next to his workshop with my sister and
cousin. Long before the quartz watch was invented.
Our
dreams were always accompanied by the frequent and gentle chime
sounds of mechanical clocks.
My grandfather did not speak English, but he had quite a few GI
customers. He never had a problem communicating. He
just needed to see the watch brought in and then he fixed it. We
did not enter the store, but peeped at the scene from behind
the sliding door separating the store from the residence.
Many
beautiful smiles of many young sailors. What they would say before leaving, still shines in me.
I became a high school student, and every morning I walked
past the main gate of the U.S. Naval Base. The guards in
their uniforms looked dazzlingly handsome and yet, completely
alien. On rainy days, silent sailors, some of whom soaked to the
bone, came out of the base and walked to their Club, known to us as
the EM Club. The building floated in the middle of the
city as if the "Castle" of Kafka. It was an
area we were not supposed to see.
Many years later I lived in the States. Once we, my
husband and I, took a trip to Chicago. We were overwhelmed by the bounty of America. We got lost in
Union Station. We were shouted at when we could not figure out
how to buy tickets. I could not believe my eyes when I
found a bunch of sailors in the valley of sky-scrapers.
They
were not silent at all. They were having fun, just like kids on
a school excursion:
................spring rain's let
up
................cracker jacks look
up
................at shiny
sky-scrapers
