It is Just Like a Drama!

One night I had a dinner with Jennie and 2 other French girls from the hostel.
We planned to go to an Italian restaurant where our Italian friend, Max from the hostel was working as a waiter.

Max was a very sweet Italian guy who had a long hair and huge eyes which almost looked like popping out of his face every time he stared at me. He was a musician and wanted to reside in Chicago for his music.

We took a bus for about 20 minutes towards north.

When we got off the bus, we were standing right in front of a big Italian restaurant.

We entered inside and found Max working. We waved our hands and tried to greet him. He noticed us and smiled. But he looked too busy to greet us at the moment.

A host guided us to a table. We sat on a table and looked at a menu.

I looked up salad section. I was getting tired of Caesar salad, so decided to order something different.

A waitress came to our table and took our order.

"Can I have a seafood salad, please?" I wanted to eat seafood because I hadn't have seafood for awhile since I arrived in Chicago.

We were chatting and observing the restaurant. Max kept working non-stop. But he managed to came to our table and say hello.

After Max left, Jennie pointed a guy in the restaurant who was also a waiter and said he looked like an angel.
He had a petit body and angel curly hair. He was kinda cute.

When my seafood salad arrived on the table, I was confused. I saw only bits of tentacles of squid and octopus. There was no vegetable in the plate.

".... Jennie, do you think this is really seafood salad??? I don't see any lettuce..."

"OH, Mariko. This is really an Italian style seafood salad. Did you want salad with vegetable? I'm sorry I should have explained to you if this is not what you wanted to eat..."

"No, that's ok. I can eat this."

I ate the bits of squid and octopus. I'm not actually a big fan of this kind of seafood... I ended up leaving more than half of the plate again. Jennie offered me to eat some of hers, but I kindly refused and said I wanted to eat some sweets instead.

"Excuse me!" I tried to stop one of the waiters.

"Yes?" The angel looking waiter came up to our table.

"Could I order a Tiramisu?

"Do you really want a Tiramisu?"

"Yes, do you think it is weird if I order a Tiramisu?"

"No. I'm just happy to hear that such a cute Asian girl like you want to eat Tiramisu!!"

He put his hand on my shoulder.

".... alright, interesting comment..." I mingled in my mind.

When we were asking for a check, Max came to our table again and told me that the angel waiter wants my number.

I looked at the angel waiter again and blushed from the fact that someone actually asked my number at a restaurant. It sounded like one scene from a drama!

"Marikooo, he likes you! He looks like an angel!!" Jennie got excited and teased me.

But I didn't have my number since I was staying at a hostel, so Max went back to the waiter and explained him my situation.

Then the waiter came to our table and gave me his number and told me to call him on the following day.

"Wooow. It really happens!!" I was totally flattered, but had no idea what to do with his number. So I asked Jennie what to do with it.

"Of course, you should call him!" She replied.

"Alright...."

So I called him on the following day.

Sightseeing in South French Way

We would wake up after everyone else had left the room. We got a similar body clock.
By the time we go out, we always ended up starting a day from finding a place to have a late lunch then headed to downtown Chicago for some sightseeing.

After we had a heavy lunch, we were walking to downtown. When we were walking in a park, suddenly, Jennie got excited.

"Mariko, look! There is a apple tree!!" She pointed the tree with a bunch of small apples.

"Apple is really good for digestion. We should eat it!" She picked some apples from the tree and started to eat. I was too full to eat anything.

She demanded to stop in a cafe almost every 3 hours. She said she needed to hydrate regularly and rest every once in awhile.

When we went to a supermarket, she picked up a cherry from a pile on the shelf and ate it.

"...!?" I was not able to understand what she was doing and got a little nervous.

"In France, you can pick and eat fruit to taste at a supermarket." She explained. I didn't even want to bother to say "But we are not in France, are we?"

At the art institute of Chicago, we saw a bunch of French people around us in the museum. She would stay quiet and listened to their conversation in French carefully.

"They must be from Paris. They are very snobbish but uneducated. Those people even don't know who Renoir is!!"

When I saw the painting by Renoir, "Two Sisters On the Terrace", I was moved. I used to have a poster of the painting in my room when I was in Tokyo and yearned to see the original painting here. Finally I was able to see the painting right in front of my eyes.

We entered Navy Pier at night. It is one of the most touristy places to visit in Chicago. There was a big Ferris wheel and a huge shopping mall on the pier. We encountered a live music concert outside. Jennie really liked the concert and wanted to stay there for awhile. But it was almost 11 pm and I was getting nervous about staying out so late there. I was warned not to stay outside after 8 pm in the US from my advisor at an English school in Japan.

"Jennie, I think we should go back to our hostel. It's kinda getting late."

"Nah, don't worry. We'll be alright. Look, there are so many people still here, having fun!"

".... right."

Her attention moved back to the concert, and started to move her body with the music.

I stood still with a nervous expression on my face. After awhile she noticed that I was not enjoying the concert with her.

"Alright. You look like you are really worried. We should go. You don't trust me."

"No, Jennie. I do trust you.... it's just, I've been told that I shouldn't stay out that late in the US when I was in Japan..."

"You know I've been in the US longer than you and when I say it is ok, you don't trust me?"

Regardless of my trust to her, I just felt uncomfortable staying out late in the US.

"OK, let's go." she said.

I followed her.

"You really reminds me of my younger sister. She is also really young and naive. You have to be strong, Mariko."

It must have been during a rush hour to take a bus from Navy Pier, we saw a bunch of fat & huge American tourists trying to squeeze into a buss. The scene was absolutely hilarious.

"Look at the fat American people trying to get into the bus. They make the bus look smaller!!" Jennie was standing by the bus station and couldn't resist staring at the bus.

We took another bus to go back to our hostel. On our way in the bus, we realized that we were in a wrong bus. So I approached to the bus driver and asked him if he was driving to Fullerton street.

"Excuse me, is this going to Fullerton?"

"What???"

"Is this going to Fullerton?"

"What???"

".... we need to go to Fullerton."

".... I have no idea whatcha' sayin'" The huge black driver couldn't understand my English at all.

Jennie broke in and said, "Excuse me Sir, we want to go to Fullerton street."

"Ah, Fulleeeeerton. This isn' goin' to Fullerton."

"What???? How can we get there then?"

"I'll let you get off here, so take the bus #11 at the bus station."

He stopped and let us get off the bus.

"Oh shit!!" Now Jennie looked very worried. I looked up a map to find out where we were.

"Put it back!!! Do not look at the map here. We'd look like tourists!!" Jennie shouted.

- Anywhere you go, "looking like a tourist" is a bad idea. It's true.

We looked at a bus schedule carefully. It seemed like the bus we needed to take was still running.

As soon as we got into the bus, we were both released.

Jennie

I opened the room. It was dark inside in orange light from few tall stand lamps.

I saw several bunk beds and some towels hanging from the beds. There were some cracks on the white wall. Nobody was there.

I found an empty bed. I sat on the bed. Suddenly I felt really lonely and scared. I started to cry. I regretted my choice to stay in the hostel alone. I had never stayed in a hostel with a bunch of strangers before, it really scared me. After giving myself 5th thought, I decided to call my mother in Japan and ask her if I could stay somewhere else.

I walked upstairs and asked the guy at the reception how to make an international call from here. He told me to get a prepaid call card at a small convenience store near the hostel. I thanked him and also asked him if he could keep my laptop in the reception room with him so nobody would steal it. He accepted my favor very kindly and told me not to worry.

I got a prepaid card at the store and returned to the hostel to make a phone call to my mother in Japan though it was quite late there, I really wanted to talk with her about the accommodation. I stood by the public phone in the basement and picked up a receiver. When I was looking up the number to push on the prepaid card, somebody talked to me from behind.

"Excuse me."

"Yes?" I put back the receiver on the phone. I saw a girl with a huge backpack on her back. She had very strong hazel eyes and a small forehead.

"I'm having a problem in opening the door with my key. Could you show me how to open the door?"

She pointed the room next to my room. So I took the key from her and tried to open the door. But it didn't seem to work.

"Hm, that's weird. It's not working. Maybe you should go upstairs to tell the receptionist that your key is not working."

"Yeah, I guess I have to do that..." She took down her big backpack from her shoulders and asked me to keep my eyes on her backpack while she is upstairs to talk to the receptionist.

She came back and told me that it was a wrong key. So instead of changing the key, she asked the receptionist to switch her room to my room.

"Great! ... by the way, what is your name?"

"My name is Jennie."

"Hi Jennie, my name is Mariko. Nice to meet you. Where are you from?"

"I'm from South France."

I decided to stay. Now I got a new friend here!

Jennie has worked in a hotel as a concierge in London before, so she spoke fluent British English with a touch of French accent.
She was traveling throughout the US.

Shortly after we settled our belongings in the room, we went out for a lunch. It was a beautiful day, so we decided to try the restaurant near the hostel which had a small outside terrace.

We sat in the table. She ordered pasta. I ordered Caesar salad. I couldn't believe how big the plate was and could not finish even half of the plate.

Actually, I was eating less than normal for awhile after I arrived in Chicago due to the stress from the change of environment. She kept telling me to eat more.

"You need to eat more. Probably your size is zero here. Zero means nothing!"

"Nooo! I'm considered really fat in Japan. I never felt I am skinny. I always wished if I was skinnier..."

"Oh Mariko, I got this little pot belly and my ex. boyfriend told me that this is actually sexy."

- Good to know, there is such a nice guy still exists in this world....

She told me I reminded her of her younger sister a lot and I have to be stronger. She was indeed a very strong girl.

Arrival

"Attention passengers, we are preparing to land in about 30 minutes."

My mouth was dried and my knees were aching by sitting in the same seat for hours.
I was very tired, but could not sleep well in the plane and still had the drowsiness and headache.

Now I only need to focus on how I survive to get to the hostel which the English school in Chicago has reserved for me.

I was standing in the waiting line for the immigration gate. I was very nervous because I've heard so many negative stories about the immigration gate in the US. They are not the friendliest people to greet foreigners coming to their country.

"Next"

I moved by the counter and showed my passport.

"Hi, how are you?" I made a big smile and made myself as friendly as possible by presenting him that I can easily communicate in English.

He looked at my passport with the student visa.

"...so, you are studying here."

"Yes."

"What are you studying?"

"I'm studying fine art. I'm a painter. I paint with oils."

"That's interesting. Have a nice day."

"Thank you!"

Phew.... luckily he was very friendly to me unlike the rumors I've heard.

- Alright, now I need to find a baggage claim.
This was my first time to fly by myself, so I was nervous for every single process I had to go through at the airport.

"Welcome to Chicago!" I saw the big friendly sign.

I decided to take a taxi even though I was really scared of taking a taxi by myself in the US. I thought it would be safer and easier than taking a train to go to downtown Chicago from the O'Hare airport.

I stepped outside. It was a beautiful sunny day. The air smelled different.

I saw the taxi waiting by the gate. As I got closer to the taxi, a big black man came out and opened the trank to put my big hard suitcase.

"Thank you" I said nervously.

"Could you go to..." I showed him a printed map of the hostel I was staying. He seemed to get it. So I decided to stay in the taxi.

I felt the cold air coming out of the front seat and the big noise of pop music out of the speakers in the taxi. The seat was like a big black sofa. It was kind of comfy, but it did not remove a bit of my nervous feeling back in my head.

But when I saw the skyscraper of downtown Chicago which I used to see only in pictures, I was amazed.

- Finally I'm in Chicago!!! How long and how much have I yearned to be here???

After entering a small street, the driver slowed his car.

"Miss, I think we are almost there..."

"Ok, then please stop here. Could you open the trank for me?"

He stopped the car and opened the van to pick up my suitcase. I waited outside. I did not want to pay before I get my suitcase.

"Thank you." I smiled and paid him with few dollars extra as a tip.

I started to walk on the small street and looked around. Few minutes later, I saw some people standing by the gate of a house and saw the sign, "The Arlington House Hostel"

- Great, now I made to the hostel safely!!

I went inside and waited in a line to check in. I saw people who were sitting in the couch and watching TV. 2 or 3 people were standing by the gate talking and smoking.

"Hi, how are you? I have a reservation here for 2 weeks from today." again, I made a big smile and spoke as carefully as possible so he could understand my English.

He looked at me and talked to me gently.

"What is your name?"

"Mariko Koike"

He took a moment to look up my name in the reservation list, then gave me a key and the room number and explained about use of the hostel briefly.

I thanked him again and went downstairs to find my room.

Departure

The mixed feeling filled my mind while fighting against drowsiness from last night - I hardly could sleep by being too nervous about my departure to the US. My mother was helping me pack my stuff into a big hard suitcase. "This is the last thing I can do for you before you leave our home.", she said.

I was sitting by the window where I could view the planes waiting to fly. My mother was sitting next to me. Probably she couldn't sleep well last night, too. We were sitting together almost in silence. I didn't know what to talk with her. I was really happy to leave Japan which had been my strong dream since graduating from high school. But I was also very nervous about starting my new life alone in the city where I had never been. This is what I really wanted so I must obtain it no matter what. Sometimes I have to ignore my fear.

"Thank you, mom. I'll be alright. Don't worry. I'll contact you when I get there." I tried to make the farewell as smooth and dry as possible. No tears, no hugs, only I wanted to show her that I'm strong enough to carry out everything alright.

After entering the security gate, I was still nervous. After about 13 hour of flight, I'll be in Chicago. I have to be strong and keep my awareness high on everything around there. Different language, everything is unfamiliar, I have to guard myself.

The plane took off, I was sitting between Japanese college students who were probably going to the US for their school trip or a short term study program. I couldn't keep my eyes dried. I had a fit of overwhelming feeling and started to cry.

Una pregunta

Cuando yo estaba haciendo mi tarea con una ayudante quien era una estudiante en mi universidad en Chicago, me preguntó en qué yo creyera en mi vida sin creencia en Dios. 

Ella nació en Siria y ha crecido con su familia muy cristiana. Así que siempre ha creído en Dios en su vida.

Le dije que sólo yo creo en mí misma y la gente a cuya admiro muchísimo. Siempre he tenido la creencia muy fuerte en la gente quien ha hecho mucho en su vida y vivido como quiere vivir. Las palabras de ellos son las palabras de la Biblia para mí.

Como Sylvie Guillen ha dicho, "Si tiene miedo de perder algo, es dependiente de él. Si no tiene miedo, es libre entonces." 

Yo tenía 20 años entonces.