KID ETHNIC IS WRITTEN BY:
saleem
who is currently moving around East Asia.
kidethnic@gmail.com
ALSO BY KID ETHNIC:
Twitter
I twitter infrequently. But hope we can stay friends.
The Alpaca Song
I wrote and recorded this for you. Because you <em>need</em> a song about alpacas, don’t you?
The Annual Kid Ethnic Valentine
Because I love you so much.
SEAWEED BREAKFAST
A weekly column about Japan that I wrote for Glimpse.org.
100JapaneseThings
A collaborative site to help folks (and each other) find Japanese stuff.
The Whiteboard Videos
Music+Whiteboard Markers+Friends=Good ways to spend weekends
The taxi driver asked me where I was headed.
“Williamsburg,” I said. “I have an address, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been in the area.”
“Know how to get there?”
“Ah, sorry, not really.”
“Know what exit?”
“No. Sorry, maybe I should find another cab.” A line of other taxis waited behind us.
He started the engine and the meter. “Try to remember,” he said, and we pulled out of the airport parking lot.
A monitor in the back of the cab showed a split screen: the morning news, a bunch of banner ads and our position on GPS. (* ) No directions or nav, just a sprite superimposed on streets.
I tried to work out how to get to the place where we were staying. But it had been too long. The screen felt like a map of a video game I’d never played.
We pulled into Williamsburg and circled around a bit. The driver pulled over and gave some change to a homeless man, but he didn’t know how to get their either.
The sun wasn’t out yet. It had been snowing. I kept feeling that I was close. I kept almost remembering.
I couldn’t quite, though, and the meter was running. I asked him to let me out.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. He had no reason to believe me.
I walked around until I found my old neighborhood. I made a few lucky guesses. No one was out. Williamsburg is dead on a Sunday before sunrise. It was my first time being alone so far on the trip home and the nostalgia hit me.
I saw Kellog’s Diner. It was lonely and nice. I stopped to take a picture. I thought I could make it home from there.
( * ) This of course makes one wonder why the taxi driver himself was unequipped with GPS nav. More important for driver than passenger, right? Possible explanations welcome.
* * *
BRIEFLY: In America, The Size of Things, 2 Photos of | The Hopeful Young Spectator Receives a White Lie, PLUS: An Interlude of Kawaii Overload