In Klamath Falls, the Japanese people were very rare to see. It probably is still so in that small city. This is the main reason that I could, and citizens of Klamath Falls could, come across strange and unique incidents as written in this book, while I was there. These incidents may seem to have begun with my attempt of verbal or non-verbal communication with others over cultural difference or English barrier.
The reality, however, was not so generous. It wouldn’t wait for the cultural difference or English barrier to become evident. My existence itself could cause strange reactions of the local people there. Let me describe how it could.
One day I was walking along the downtown shopping street. It is Klamath Falls. There weren’t many people walking around even in the day time on Sunday. I was just walking, heading for some store or library. Then there came a motorcycle from ahead. I was on the right side of the street toward my destination. The motorcycle approaching were to pass by running through on the other side of the road. It barely succeeded.
The rider noticed me that I am a foreigner. Not just a foreigner. Non-Caucasian. Non-Hispanic. Non-American Indian. The rider must have been astonished as much as he should have found a live bear on the other side of the very road on which he was running. He turned his face to look at me more in detail. Or he may not have been able to believe what he saw. He just kept on looking at me while the motorcycle maintained its motion intact.
When my existence finally positioned right behind the rider, a misery occurred. The motorcycle became unable to proceed straight ahead. It swung right and left. It didn’t take a moment before it hit the curve of the pavement, and turned over. The rider was thrown away and crashed on the stone cold pavement. It was just like a scene of a cheap action movie.
The place where the rider tumbled down was already a little distant to me. It would have taken at least a minute for me to run to him. One of the lessens I learned before coming to the United States was to never help someone you don’t know because he may sue you for inappropriate care you do for him. In this case, I was obviously the major cause to his traffic accident. But it was definitely not my fault. So I turned back and kept on walking.
On another Sunday, I was standing at an intersection waiting for the green light to turn on. My car was parked in front of Fred Meyer’s where I had been hanging around. I was to drop by Taco Bell across the street. Then there came a high school student on his bike. He got off of it right beside me.
He stared at me very carefully for a while and became impatient to satisfy his curiosity. “K.U. or Mazama?” he asked. Both are the names of high schools in Klamath Falls. K.U. stands for Klamath Union. He wanted know which school this strange creature attended.
“You mean the school I go to? Well, neither of them.” I replied. The expression that he might never have heard surprised him.
“Okay. So you’re home-studying!” he guessed with all his knowledge.
“Umm. Nope!” I replied. “I’m not a high school student!” I gave him a clue.
“You are not a high school student? So you are a college student?” he asked in surprise.
“Yes.” I said.
“But you look very young! When did you graduate from the high school?” he continued asking.
“Eight years ago. I know I look young to you. It’s because I am an alien you know.”
It was a year after I came to the United States. I had been tutoring at the school. I got the form to fill in from IRS for the first time. It was a special tax form for foreigners. It referred to the tax payer “alien” in the contents. The word, “alien,” stuck to my mind then. I recalled watching an old documentary film which recorded how the first group of Japanese immigrants landed on San Francisco Airport in the first half of 20th century. There hung a huge banner over the gate in the airport. It said, “Welcome! Aliens!” The word did not make me upset or sad. It was merely a new expression of myself that I obtained in my English vocabulary.
The word I intentionally used conveyed some strange idea to the simple-minded high school student. He responded to me immediately. “You are an alien?”
“Yeah. I’m an alien. I am a legal alien since I landed on Portland last year.” Back then Men In Black movie did not yet come out. But the very idea of the alien immigration system was created in this kid’s mind at this moment for sure. (I am not sure if Men In Black comic was out there back then.)
“A legal alien? So the government knows that you’re an alien? So you’ve been registered somehow, when you landed, right?” Now he was almost daydreaming. He enthusiastically asked me back to verify his discovery.
“I think so. They should know it, cause it says in my tax form, too!” I smiled to him. Probably it was the most shocking news that he ever had heard. Before I completed my answer, he started murmuring something. As it became loud, I could figure out what he was saying.
“Oh, my God! I found an alien. He studies at OIT! And the government knows it. I gotta tell this to somebody!”
I wanted to make sure if he was really on the wrong track. I said, “You know. You told me that I looked very young. You thought that I was fifteen or so, right? I look young because I am an alien. You know I am almost 30 now. I speak awkward English because I practiced English watching stupid TV programs of this country. I look young. I speak awkward English. It’s all because I am an alien!”
“Oh, my God! I gotta tell this to somebody! I can’t believe this. I’m going crazy.” He saw the green light on, jumped on his bike and dashed away. It was actually the third green light after I started tell him the “truth.”
Just walking on the streets would invoke people’s curiosity and would result in strange stories. The rare specimen of the Japanese was really a “something” in town. I told these stories to my classmates. They laughed and laughed. In a business class one day, Mr. Stec, the instructor, announced after taking the attendance, “Okay. Sixteen gentlemen and two ladies. All of you are back in the class again!” Then one of my friends in the class raised her hand and said, “No. It’s fifteen gentlemen, two ladies and one alien! Sho turned out to be an alien, Mr. Stec!”