Tartine, 4/7/05

Yokohama, 1997

I lived in Yokohama for one summer, working odd jobs at a small firm. I stayed in the eastern part of the city, in my first real apartment. I had a tatami mat for a bed, and a classic Japanese ofuri bathtub.

When I wasn't working, I used an old, two-gear BMX bike to explore the city. It was tough to ride on inclines, but the heavy metal body picked up a lot of speed going downhill.

I don't know if Yokohama is a typical Japanese city. Less than 20 miles from Tokyo, there were certain things there I hadn't seen elsewhere: unexpected but beautiful fields lapping up against the city limits, pornography on TV every night at 10:00, dilapidated stores crowding against my apartment.

I liked the city. I was seventeen and trying to sort out my feelings after an aborted relationship. When thinking became too much, I'd take the bike out and look around, usually late at night.

I started smoking regularly and picked up insomnia that summer. But mostly I remember the rush of speeding down darkened streets, and realizing that the best part came from being alone.

Grand Central Station

$100 to fix the camera, $250 for the locksmith to unjam my door, and another $120 on books I don't need right now. But- I dropped my loose change at a CoinStar and made $50.

Sagada

Seven years ago, I went backpacking in the Northern Philippines with the guy on the very right. One of our innkeepers introduced us to someone who could find out-of-season mushrooms. He came back with a bag of soggy caps caked in horse manure. We scrubbed them in boiling water and made an omelet. We ate and waited and ate some more. Then John said, "let's feed the rest to the pigs." We ended up watching them all day. Now he's a philosopher.

Fulton Street Station

"It is not the tilted buildings or the blind alleys
that I mind,
nor the winding staircases leading nowhere
or the ones that are simply missing.

Nor is walking through a foreign city
with a ring of a thousand keys
looking for the one door the worst of it,
nor the blank maps I am offered by strangers."
-Billy Collins