Scenes from Clapham Junction
Evening at the Clapham Junction railway station, the clock hanging above indicates 5 minutes past seven. Cell phone vibrates.
ME: Hello?
HIM: Hey it’s me. I’m really sorry but my train just got canceled. I’m catching the next one but it’ll take another 15 minutes to get there.
ME: No biggies. I am inside the station now…why not look for me in either Blockbuster or WHSmith? You know where they are right?
HIM: Yeah. There’s also Caffee Nero at the entrance of the station. Why not grab yourself a coffee, have a seat and wait for me inside?
ME: Aw I would if I had a book with me to read…not a coffee drinker by the way.
HIM: Well OK. I’ll give you a ring then when I get there.
ME: Great. See you soon.
The rather tiny WHSmith is more like a kiosk, so Me ends up walking into the opposite Blockbuster watching Batman Begins on the TV monitor. When noticing it’s half passed seven Me walks out of the store and looks around. Still no traces of Him. Another 5 minutes Me returns to Batman and sends Him a text message:
u there yet if this gonna take another 10 mins lets just call it off
Cell phone vibrates immediately.
HIM: Where are you?!
ME: Right in front of Blockbuster. (walks out, looks around, sees someone holding a cell phone by the ear in front of Caffee Nero and walks up to him) There you are!
HIM: Oh hi! (all smiles) Not the patient type are you! (both slowly move out of the station onto the street)
Me: Actually I almost never wait more than a quarter for somebody. In Berlin, my mobile always stays home. When time’s up I walk. My mobile is only with me now because I’m traveling out of town.
HIM: I’d always give it 30 minutes.
ME: Not me.
HIM: So if I miss the bus by 3 minutes and have to wait for 10 minutes, and the bus is late or gets stuck in the traffic for another 10 you’d be gone when I get there.
ME: That’s right.
HIM: (agitated) See, people from out of London don’t understand how difficult this is. London is a very big city and the traffic is not always optimal! It takes longer to get to places!
ME: (responding to no one in particular) Yeah well.
HIM: (changes subject) Wow you look cuter than in the pictures!
ME: Thanks.
HIM: So are you hungry? I know a Korean noodle place that’s pretty good, or would you like to walk around and see if there’s anything else you like?
ME: I’m pretty hungry actually; why don’t we go to that noodle place? I love Korean food.
HIM: Sure. (turns around and guides Me back into the rail station. They stop at the tollgate and Him begins to study the timetable above) Malden…10 minutes…do you have a ticket for the train?
ME: I have an Oyster Card?
HIM: No no, you’ll need a ticket for the train ’cause we’re taking the railway to Malden. It’s just 15 minutes away.
ME: Why are we going there?
HIM: (lowers his voice, a little too dramatically, to almost a whisper) Because I live there!
ME: (snaps)You suggested to meet here in the first place because you said there were lots of places to eat and I’m starving so let’s just stay where we already are OK?
HIM: (gives Me a why-are-you-being-so-difficult look and with a sigh says) OK.
After some 15 minutes walking back and forth around the rather barren neighborhood both decide on a restaurant called Banana Leaf. They are given a seat very quickly.
ME: This tastes really good. Spicy food is the best.
HIM: I like it hot and spicy too…heh heh… So tell me, you said you were originally from Taiwan, right? You don’t look very Taiwanese though.
ME: Hm, how do you think Taiwanese should look?
HIM: Well I know a lot of Asians, and you can often tell where they are from by their looks: the shape of their eyes, or nose; or the color of their skin, etc. I have met some Taiwanese people, and you don’t look like them…
ME: Fascinating. So what do you think I look like, Chinese?
HIM: Nonono…(eagerly) Taiwan is not China, I know that, and most Taiwanese don’t like being called Chinese, right?
ME: I couldn’t care less what people call me, but I wasn’t aware that we look that different. In fact I’d have a difficult time telling a Korean from a Japanese just by their looks.
HIM: It’s just something I like to do when I see Asians on the street: to guess which country they come from. It’s a lot of fun! (invitingly) What about you? When you meet someone European, don’t you try and guess where they are from? Portuguese, French, Spanish…aren’t you interested in knowing their nationalities?
ME: Not really. I’m more interested in their favorite books or the last movie they saw or the music they listen to.
HIM: Sure sure.(pause) So music is very important to you?
ME: (?) I’m always happy to find kindred spirits in music…
HIm: What kind of music do you like?
ME: All kinds…but a lot of alternative, indie rock…some electronica…I play the piano, so some classical…
HIM: I prefer Latin music, and Asian pop too! (pause) So what would you like to do after getting your degree?
ME: (thinking) I’d really like to get into journalism. I quite enjoy writing.
HIM: I hate writing! It is so complicated…well, see, I’m dyslexic that’s why…you know what dyslexia is? That’s why I hate writing…there are a lot of good ideas in my head; I have no problems expressing them verbally, but I just can’t put them down on paper. I can’t differentiate the space between the alphabets; it’s all very complicated…I’d like to get into Psychoanalysis someday: it’s something I’m good at, and you get to help people and make money out of it too.
ME: well (thinking Him doesn’t seem to have problems with email or text messages)…it’s the ideas that count.
HIM: Exactly. I got my MBA when I was 16, well in the UK you are allowed to do that. So I have a lot going for me.
ME: that’s really impressive. Say, where did you say you were from again?
HIM: (with some alert) I’m British. Not far from the Healthrow airport, that’s where I was born…why, why do you ask? Is it because of my English?
ME: (carefully, uncertain) There’s just something in your accent that suggests you might not be native…
HIM: (laughs emphatically) A lot of my friends tell me the same thing! But I was in Korea for 7 years and then New York for 2 years. I speak fluent Korean!
ME: I envy that. What were you doing in Korea?
HIM: I was teaching English. It was so boring I would never do it again. I came back to London and worked for a company for a while before it went bankrupt.
ME: That must be awful. Are you looking for a new job?
HIM: The problem is, I can’t work because of the bankruptcy; there are certain conditions I’m bound to; besides, the company can turn around and accuse me of causing the bankruptcy…I hope they won’t…I don’t think they will…still I’m not allowed to work. I’m planning to start something new though, a PhD maybe. I have a degree in Asian Cinema and Korean Studies…but now I’m thinking of Psychoanalysis because I’m really good at analyzing people…So, will you go back to Taiwan one day?
ME: To work and live? Unlikely.
HIM: Why don’t you wanna go back? What do you like better here than in Asia?
ME: It’s not that simple really, but…well it’s…lack of diversity, too much conformity,not enough privacy…too little integrity…environ… (Him jumps in)
HIM: What? Why too little integrity?
ME: It sounds harsher than what I really meant, and it’s a cursory generalization because I don’t want to spend the entire evening explaining what it is…but in a word it’s the education in Taiwan, where children learn what is “right” and what is “wrong” as a concept, as “the correct and absolute answer” to test questions, but not as something they need to think through and decide for themselves. In real life people automatically know “the right thing” to do, almost like a knee-jerk reaction, because in school we were spoon-fed all the “right” answers Confucius had given us. Everything is “right” or “wrong” by default because Confucius said so. We were never encouraged to think and ponder what makes something “moral” or “immoral”, and most importantly, “why”. We pass judgment and condemn quickly depending on what the text books said. But if it’s not in the text books, we are lost. Words like “moral” or “truth” are thrown around with a great deal of self-conviction, but it all sounds like reiteration of confucian canons. Whether we practice what we preach is a whole different matter. A Sociology lecturer friend of mine in San Diego once sent me a questionnaire to be distributed among universities in Taipei for the purpose of evaluating the “moral standing” in contemporary Taiwan. On the questionnaire were yes-or-no questions like “Do you think it’s wrong to lie?” or “If you find 3000 NT Dollars on the street would you bring it to the police?” I emailed him back telling him this is exactly the kind of questions we’d get on civics exams at school, each of them demands one and only one correct answer. No ambiguity. No room for discussions. We memorized each and every rule as matters of fact: the “morals” education we were getting was not “what would you do, even if there was no one to judge you” but “pick the one and only answer in the exams correctly, dutifully”. I don’t know if he went ahead with his survey or not; if he did, it wouldn’t surprise me if all of the questionnaires came back identical…
HIM: (smiles knowingly and says firmly) So you’re a fascist.
ME: (duly offended) Why does that make me a fascist?
HIM: Let me give you an example: A young boy’s grandmother is dying; he refuses to visit her. Case A - the father threatens him with a good spanking if the boy doesn’t go and visit his grandma, so the boy gives in unwillingly and visits his granny. Although he’s forced to do something he doesn’t want, he still maintains his free will. Now case B – the father resorts to reason and tells the boy that grandma loves him very much and if he doesn’t visit her it’ll totally break her heart. So the Boy goes to his grandma. The boy is basically tricked into doing something he really doesn’t want. Now which one would you choose?
ME: I can’t follow your non sequitur. You are apparently expecting me to choose case B, which I indeed do, but why is that fascist? Because the father strips the kid of his free will? This is not making any sense. Who’s to say the boy can’t make a conscious decision to see his granny, of his own free will, because he doesn’t want to break her heart? You make it sound as if free will is a momentary snapshot…but it’s not; it’s a perpetual state of mind that’s both firm and fluid. Changing one’s mind doesn’t equal loss of free will. In fact, wouldn’t you agree that the whole idea of education is pretty much based on benevolent manipulation?
HIM: But the first boy will in fact be staying true to himself. Externally, he’s only following the rules from a higher authority to avoid conflict, to survive in the system; internally he’s still free to think whatever he likes.
ME: That’s how hypocrisy starts. Saying one thing when actually meaning the other. Doing something without any personal conviction, just to comply with and conform in the system. That’s what I’ve always detested in Taiwan.
HIM: Looks like everything you run away from is what draws me to Asia.
ME: Looks like you have every reason to return. PS I’m not running away from anything.
HIM: You are leaving your country and your culture behind for a foreign one, where you will always be an outsider. There must be something that you’re trying to escape.
ME: That’s oversimplification. One might simply be happier in place A than in place B. Is every Glasgower moving to London or every Californian moving to Buenos Aires escaping something?
HIM: Well…this is different, cause you’re placing yourself in completely alien culture, you’re leaving your comfort zone for unknown territory.
ME: You’d be surprised how I actually feel more comfortable where I am now, and I do like challenges of the unknown.
Him: OK…see I’d like to go back to Korea too, or just anywhere in Asia really, if only I had the money…oh well…now, would you like to go and have coffee somewhere or something, so we can continue our conversation?
ME: What time is it now? Hm I kinda wanna be home before 10…some other time?
HIM: Oh. OK. (turns around to the waitress indicating for the bill) I hope my company will pay me back the money they owe me soon…say, how do you support yourself in Berlin?
ME: Well…I just live off mom and dad. (looks at the bill) Noodle…tea…here, let me give you a ten.
HIM: Yes…(puts another ten in the tray, which the waitress comes and takes away) I’d really like to see you soon…I’m free all day tomorrow, what about you? (waitress comes back with the change in a tray)
ME: I’m seeing some friends tomorrow…you might find me at Popstarz on Friday night. My friends and I haven’t decided what we’re gonna do yet though.
HIM: I don’t go clubbing these days…not my cup of tea…so I guess I won’t see you before you go back to Berlin then?
ME: I don’t know…but I will be back again…
Suddenly Him stands up, picks up the tray with his right hand, tilts it swiftly so that all the coins slide into his left hand, which then determinedly dives into his pocket. With Me still on the chair not sure what’s happening, Him dashes for the door and disappears.
THE END
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