”What's
with the chop sticks and the miso soup? You're not Japanese.”
”You
sure? I could be.”
”No,
you're not. You're born in Denmark and it takes more than flirting
with a culture to actually be a part of it.”
”I
can try, can't I? I mean, I'm taking lessons in language, brush
painting, cooking and what have you. I'm thinking of going there as
soon as I can.”
”When
will that be? You haven't got the money and you're afraid of flying.”
”Man,
you're always so negative! Can't you just be glad I have something
that excites me?”
”Of
course I can, but you won't become Japanese no matter how many
courses you take. And besides, they would never accept you as one of
theirs if you ever get to go. You'll be a foreigner for 10
generations or more.”
”Says
you. What do you know?!.”
“I
know they work very long hours and you haven't held on to even a part
time job for more than 2 weeks. You couldn't survive in Japan. Not on
the same terms the Japanese live.”
“Shut
it! Have you seen the band-aids? These damn straw sandals give me
blisters.”
cold
fondue
what's
left of the frog
the cat
eats
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