a place to begin

[Mishin]

New places where daunting… frightening, in a manner. It was a land which provided no maps, no friendly faces, no gentle reassurances she was doing things right and proper. Nanako bore no idea or way to make a conclusion as to where to go first in this strange building, this boarding school. It seemed only natural to half-drag her bags up to her assigned dorm and hope it was the proper choice to make.

For a girl her size, just under five feet, it was no easy task but one she managed, working in two steady trips, dropping things off besides the doorway but not attempting to enter, her legs shaking unsteadily in platform Mary-Janes, carrying all but her school bag awkwardly for fear of getting it caught on her skirt—her most recent creation, black with new lace, and high-waisted, acting as a form of fabric corset besides its traditional function. And in proper manner of her established style, a petticoat underneath gave it form, a white dress shirt lined with frills underneath her black suit-coat, long and warm, reminiscent of older times.

Nanako looked at the door with an air of uncertainly. It was the right door… wasn’t it? And what lay behind it? Biting her dark-painted lip, she slowly entered, Asian eyes wide, a frightened doe. There were girls there, yes, all tall and beautiful, Western.

Different.

No, here, it was she who was different. Foreign.

“Gaijin,” she murmured, disliking the taste of the word in her mouth.

Although she had attended a school in England, she had shared a room with only a single person, small and tanned, a Korean girl, the though of the school having been the two Asian girls could talk, converse in their own language together, never minding the fact Japanese and Korean bore little likeness. This, this room with these people, it was not what she had expected, nor what she would have preferred.

“Excuse me. Aa—this… this is Dorm B, yes?” Her English was accented, Japanese with a slight mix of British and heavy with uncertainty. Nanako looked on at these faces, judging, harsh, and waited for a reply, for any words at all.

Note: "Gaijin" is Japanese for foreigner. More precisely, "one who does not belong" or "outsider." Although most use it innocently now, it's wasn't originally the nicest of words. Nanako means it in the foreign way and in the outsider way when referring to herself.

[shadow]

Lilly was curled up on her bed. She was finding it hard to be accepted. She was a foreigner, small and dark, and these people were so sophisticated, and they knew so much of the world. Lilia had been almost sheltered from the First World countries, such as this one, coming from Russia, which was Second World. For goodness sake, there was still the death penalty in her country. She was so different, it was unbelieveable. Lilia was reading a book, one of the few she had brought with her, one of the few in her own language, one of the few she could actually understand.

She was wearing a long beige skirt, gypsy in style, with a deep red, almost pinky shirt and a dark cardigan. Her long hair was tied into pigtails, and she looked stereotypically Russian. She didn't mind this, as that was what she was, but she sometimes just wished she were more....sophisticated. In the company of the other girls at this school, she felt kind of dowdy and most definitely an outsider.

Lilia looked up as she heard to door open, but she was certain that it was another American, someone who thought they knew everything and was someone. She curled up even smaller, trying to make herself inconspicious, and carried on reading her book. The last thing she could deal with right now was some loud American. She had too much on in her life. Her parents were being tried, and were possibly going to have the death penalty, and in a few weeks, she was trying her first professional audition. She most certainly didn't want to have to attempt to speak to someone who thought they were the world.

It was when she heard a voice that she actually looked at who the newcomer was. She was a small girl, Asian, possibly even smaller than Lilia herself, which was something of a miracle. She put a bookmark in her book and leant over. "Um, yes, dorm B," she said, her English accented too. "You is new here? Do you want to, um-" Lilia paused for a moment, searching for the word. "You want to have bed next to me?"

She wasn't sure why she was being so forward. It was probably something to do with the fact that she saw herself completely in the new girl. She looked lost, and Lilia still felt that way. More importantly, she definitely was not a tall, blonde American, and Lilia wanted someone different to everyone else to be friends with.

[Mishin]

Nanako searched the room, laden with uncertainty, as her words hung awkwardly in the air. For long moments, she doubted she should have come to this country, to any new country at all. After England, she had enough at being foreign. Had she been smart she would have returned to Japan, found a small boutique or fashion house in need of the assistance, even from one as uneducated as she. But, she noted with a sort of horror, time did not turn backward, and no matter the conclusion, she was here at least for this year.

It was then the Russian girl spoke, startling her. Nanako had not seen her, not at first; she was small and easy to miss among the buoyancy of the Americans. But she seemed kind enough, and her voice was far from accented in the American way. It was a relief, to find someone else who seemed out-of-place.

But as she thought it, the small girl bit her lip. Maybe she wasn’t different; maybe that girl only just seemed so. For all she knew, she was someone important, famous. Someone who only seemed small and different, but was in reality just like everyone else.

Nanako looked at her, bright green eyes wide, still bearing an expression of nervousness and fright. Even as the girl spoke, her words seeming kind, she doubted herself, she doubted her presence in this room and debated turning on heel and running, the only thing holding her back being the knowledge that she would have to carry her suitcases back again.

“Yes, yes, thank you. That would be… good. Yes, good,” she smiled shakily, gathering two of her bags and placing them carefully next to the empty bed before returning for the last of the four. For the first time since stepping from the plane into this strange new land she felt a small tinge of relief, looking at the other girl who seemed just as foreign as she was.

Taking a seat on the mattress, she picked up her nearest bag, small and pink, adorned with Hello Kitty, and faced the girl, her smile this time a little less nervous as she pulled out the small mementoes and pictures from the canvas bag and placed them on the—her—bed. She opened her mouth to speak, but said no words, instead thinking through this situation, wondering what it is she could possibly say, what to ask. She wanted to know where this girl was from, if this place, this America, was as frightening as it first seemed.

“You are not… from here... aa... too?” Nanako finally asked, curiosity winning out against all worries of politeness.

[shadow]

Lilia smiled at the girl, but then sat back on her bed. This time, she didn't open her book, but took out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. This letter was so important to her, but it was also heart breaking. Her eyes quickly scanned the lines of text, written neatly in Russian, her mother's hand. She felt sick just reading it, and so put it down again. Everyone seemed to be understanding, but she wondered just how much they really did know. Yes, there was Death Row in some states over here, but how many of them had their parents there? There was no Death Row in Russia, but her parents were political prisoners, and in a country just free from Soviet rule, that was serious. Many a political prisoner had been excecuted, and Lilia was sick with the feeling that that would happen to her mama and papa.

Not for the first time, Lilia wondered why she didn't go back to Russia, why she didn't campaign for her parents' freedom. But no, she was safe here in America, this was where her mother wanted her to be. Russia was a dangerous country, though America didn't seem much different, if she was brutally honest.

Lilia smiled again as the girl put her bags on the bed. "You want...aid? Help?" she asked, sitting up and swinging her slim legs over the edge of the bed. This girl had so much baggage compared to what she had had. Lilia had come here with one battered suitcase, and a small racksack, and that held all her worldly possessions. However, the American girls had so much more. Lilia was happy with her one bag, but these Americans had so much, and still weren't satisfied. If they knew what life was like for some people, they would be less than happy, and would most certainly be content with one bag of things that really meant something.

Lilia shook her head. "No. I is from Russia. You are not 'merican neither, are you?" she asked, smiling. The girl seemed so...so, well, frightened, and Lilia knew the feeling. She still felt that way. "Maybe you find America scare? Well, me also find it terrifying. But maybe it not so bad really, yes?"

[Mishin]

Nanako looked on as the Russian girl removed a worn piece of paper from her pocket. She said nothing, instead smiled slightly, and continued to pull odds and ends from the small pink bag: an image of her parents when younger, standing in front of a grand piano, her father looking uncomfortably out of place; a number of spools of thread, assorted colors which had not fit into her sewing bag, as well as a small pink and green cell phone which would most certainly not work in America—it hadn’t worked in England, either, but she kept it with her, a form of security. She blinked down at the array of trinkets, unsure what to do with them for the time. It only took her a moment so sigh and shove them back into the Hello Kitty bag.

As the other girl spoke, Nanako turned, listening to her intently, and grinned. She then nodded, grabbing her sole wheeled luggage, and laying it down so it was face-up. “Please, could you help me get this out? It is heavy…” she trailed off, unzippering the front and flipping up the top, revealing a sewing machine, old and slightly rusted, a hulking brandless model which was just the right size for the large bag—Nanako’s prize possession from Japan, bought at a second-hand shop when she was nine or ten and her best friend throughout her years in school, in seamstress shops and foreign countries. “I suppose it can go under bed?” she remarked, poking her hand beneath the bed frame to make sure there was room, “Yes, it would be best there. I do not want it out all…” she thought for a moment, waving her hand at the rest of the room, searching for the term, “kizutsuki-yasui, in danger…”

She glanced for a moment at her two other bags, sitting like impatient dogs a few feet away. Mostly they contained clothing, shoes. She had been sparing with what she brought, absently figuring if she needed more she would just sew some up. Certainly even America has fabric stores, so she needn’t worry about that, so long as she found the time and the quiet to work. She would unpack them later.

“Russia?” Nanako asked, turning fully to the girl, “that is far… very. I come, first, from Japan. I did not go to school there for a small while, no good schools, so, later I go to England for a year. To design,” she smiled down at her sewing machine, “but, it was no good there, the school here seemed to provide more, and my parents say they prefer it here since it offers music, too. So I come here, but… America is more scary than England. It is loud here… before, the schools I went to, and shops I work in, was quiet. Even in Kyoto, a city—but not big city like New York—it was more quiet, less scary. But maybe it is better than it seems, yes. Lets hope!” She said the last line enthusiastically, clearing hoping the situation was far better than it seemed.

Note: "Kizutsuki-yasui" is Japanese for "vulnerable." Yes, she's giving the sewing machine human traits.

[shadow]

Lilia glanced at the Japanese girl. It was a comfort to know that she was not the only foreigner here. At least there were the two of them to moan about how strange America was, and how big-headed its occupants were. She noticed that the girl had a lot of thread, and she guessed that her talent must be one of sewing, or something of the like. Sewing was something Lilia admired greatly, as she knew the amount of work that had to go into showdresses for dancing, and people like her would be no where without the seamstresses that made the amazing dresses. The girl seemed to have a lot of things, small things, trinkets, Lilia supposed. Most of them seemed to be photographs, and she wished that she too had photographs of her parents. The only thing she had was a small, crumpled black-and-white picture, and cuttings from newspapers of their trial. Not great memories.

Lilia nodded, getting gracefully off the bed and walking the few steps to where the girl was standing. She was only an inch or two taller than this girl, but being taller than someone for once made her feel good. "It is a nice, um, machine," she said, remembering seeing the word written down, and so pronouncing the silent 'ch'. "You make dresses?" She smiled, helping lift the heavy item and put it under the bed. "It will be safe there, yes."

Lilia nodded. "Yes. Is very far. Japan is also far. I have never been there, neither England. I only been in Russia and here, but both is big countries. I only been in my village in Russia, and a bit in the city maybe. I did not want to leave my home, but there was..." she paused, trying to recall a phrase she had heard someone use earlier. "...there was unforseen incidents, so I had to." Her pronounciation was a bit out, and she didn't elaborate. She would only tell people what was on her mind so much when she really knew them, and really regarded them as a friend.

"America is very scare. I do not like it here. The persons is too much loud, and everything is very big. At home, it was very quiet. Or was 'til police come." Realising that she had let down her guard slightly, she stopped talking. She smiled. "Yes, maybe it will be better, yes? My name is Lilia, it is nice to meet you," she said, changing the subject.

[Mishin]

Nanako grinned at the question. Did she make dresses? The question seemed so plain. It wasn’t just making dresses, not to her. It was crafting small worlds, different personalities, making facades and capturing emotion within small stitches. “Yes, I make dresses. And… other things. Shirts, cutsews, jumpers, pants, kimono—although, kimono I do not like doing. Boring,” she grinned, recalling her short months working with a seamstress, “I made this,” she tugged at her skirt and shirt, “Is simple, though. Not one of my better designs. Just something to wear when sitting on plane and finding here. I have better things in bags. And I will make better when I have time here. Maybe do costumes for the other performers, since I do not perform myself…”

With the assistance of the other foreign girl, the sewing machine safely managed to slide under the bed, and Nanako continued to smile. “Thank you!” She pronounced her ‘th’s like most Japanese, never quite grasping the manner with which it was said, instead saying it with a hissing ‘s’-sound. She sighed, annoyed at the butchered way with which the words had come. It was a saying she had known since before coming to an English-speaking country, yet one which consistently refused to be pronounced properly.

“I have never been to Russia… is it good there?” she questioned, “I have been many places in Japan, but Japan is small. When I go back, I move to Tokyo, the city. Is better there than where I am from. They have, aa, big fashion district,” she waved her arms to demonstrate the size; “I want to find job there, with good house!” Her English skills slipped as she spoke, excitement at the thought preventing her from thinking through her sentences. “Good store, I think, actually. House is like… fashion house,” she blushed, correcting herself.

Nanako fell silent again, listening as this girl spoke of America, and then, Russia. For a moment she thought of questioning what she has meant by police, but the subject seemed to be one she should not touch. Something personal, and Nanako knew better than to pry into the lives of others. “Lilia…” she then considered the girl’s name as she introduced herself, the ‘l’s rolled slightly, sounding slightly like ‘r’s, “It is a pretty name. Hard to speak, though. No ‘l’s in Japanese,” she laughed nervously.

“And me, I am Kitamura Nanako—ah, Nanako Kitamura, that is!” Nanako quickly introduced herself, bowing slightly to Lilia, purely through habit, “Just Nanako, I suppose, though. It is a pleasure to meet you!”

[shadow]

Lilia sat back on the bed, her small hands either side of her legs, the said limbs swinging slightly. "I, um, admire people what make dresses. Because I no make dresses myself, and I need lots of dresses," she said. She looked at what the girl was wearing. "It is very good. I wish I could make clothes. What I have is old, from home, yes." She smiled. "You make dresses for people like me? And here, you get better. Meant to be place where you get lots of improvement." She giggled. "I is talking too much. I do that when I a bit nervous," she said, pulling her legs beneath her.

Lilia nodded. "It is okay," she said, fiddling with the end of her plait. "Russia is...good, but the go...goverment is very, uh, strict," she said, struggling over the long word. Didn't she just know how strict the government was? She felt that this girl was going to be one she could confide in, and she knew that, when she did feel able to tell someone, it would be a large weight off her chest. "There is lot of snow in Russia. Here is much warmer." She smiled. "I maybe must go to Japan. It is nice there? Maybe I see good fashion. I do not know if I back to Russia will go. But probably, because English is very hard, and no one speak my language."

Lilia smiled. "Thank you. I like way you say it. Sounds nice," she said, giggling too. She liked this girl, and she was grateful that she didn't press what Lilia had let slip about her past. This past was something she wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. "In Russia, none of letters is here. We have different alphabet, yes. Have to learn new signs before anything else. Speaking English is hard, because everything is different. Japanese has different alphabet too?"

Lilia nodded. "Nan..Nanako. That is how you say?" she asked, the Japanese name sounding very strange in her Russian accent, and finding some of the sounds hard to say. "It is also good to meet you. I hope we friends can be."

[Mishin]

Nanako grinned, “Do not worry. I have been talking a lot also. I do too when nervous. I suppose many do,” she laughed, “And, if you wish, I can make dresses for you, maybe. If you want…” she then trailed off, the color rising in her cheeks. She may have done dresses for others back in Japan, but it was rare that she ever gained the courage to offer to make them. It made her seem so sure of herself, so certain she was good at it, and Nanako firmly believed she was neither.

Taking a seat on her bed, she listened intently as Lilia spoke. Japan had a weak government, a lap-dog government feeding out of the hands of its master—America—as it had done since the Americans occupied it in the 1940s. She wondered for a time when the other girl had meant by ‘strict.’ She knew little of Russia, it was not something mentioned often in Japan’s history text books, the few pages she had bothered reading throughout the years. “Yes, Japan is nice. It is boring in the country side, but in the cities it is lovely. I come from Kyoto… not so good for fashion, but good for inspiration. Good temples, and geisha. Many geisha, tea houses… but also it is a city. I like Tokyo better. Tokyo has Daikanyama, and favorite stores. And designer, Akinori Isobe. His designs I look up to. Back in Japan, I go to his store often,” she paused, and then nodded, “English is hard. But I learn when I was younger, it is mandatory in Japanese schools, mostly, so I understand okay. Just not speak it good. It has too many words… Like ‘the.’ I do not like ‘the.’ Or this word-order. Is a difficult word-order. But, yes, Japan has different alphabet too. Three writing systems. But one can not really be called ‘alphabet.’”

“And, yes, that is how you say it. Na-na-ko. I hope we can be friends also.”

[shadow]

Lilia nodded, leaning forward and cupping her chin in her hands. "I would like that very much, thank you," she said, smiling warmly. This was what she had always dreamed of; a friend that not only was a good friend, but could help her in ways that she couldn't help herself, and visa versa. "Yes, very much," she repeated. It was the one thing she had always found difficult. Finding dance dresses was a hard enough feat, but actually being able to afford them was another one entirely. For previous competitions, Lilia had begged or borrowed, sometimes adapting her current clothes to make a dance dress. It was far from easy, and she really wanted a proper competition dress.

Lilia frowned slightly, Nanako's accent making her work harder to understand the unfamiliar words. She knew nothing of Japan, it was some far away country that she had vaguely heard of. It wasn't in her history books, it had been passed over in geography, and they certainly didn't learn the language. Not even English was compulsory, as Russia was too big-headed; the government thought that that was the only place to live. In a few moments of wonder, Lilia asked herself why, if they were so anti-world, why she was sent away from the country? She had not chosen to come to America, but it was where they had sent her, though Russia was such a big country, they could have sent her any where else. Shrugging to herself, she concentrated on what Nanako was saying.

There were so many words that she didn't understand, so many words she wanted to know. "What is geisha?" she asked, not having heard the word before. "And also, what is Daik...Daika... that word what I can't say?" she asked, laughing at herself and at her accent not allowing her to say the word. She smiled. "I only learn English because I was sent...I mean, I live in America now. It is not teached at our schools. Yes, word order is hard, it is so different to Russian. It is hard to translate from Russian to English because things is very different. Some words in Russian they no have in English." She shrugged. "Maybe I learn. It is hard to understand and to speak also. But I do not mind."

She ran a hand through her hair. "It is nice name. Does it anything mean? And I am sorry if I say wrong, but some sounds is not easy with my accent." She laughed, finding it easier to make light of her speaking problems than anything else.

[Mishin]

As Lilia spoke, Nanako continued to smile, it felt like the only things she had full ability to do. At her thanks, she felt a sort of happiness swell. She had not even done anything, not really, and yet she was being thanked. Even if America itself was a frightening place, she couldn’t help but be grateful for the presence of this other girl, who was not only from a different land like herself, but also one who was apparently kind. “You are welcome,” she remarked after a moment.

“Oh, sorry, sorry, you do not understand. Forgive me, ne?” the color rose to Nanako’s cheeks, and she looked down at her platform boots, almost shamefully, “Geisha are, ah, mostly what people think of when Japan is mentioned. They are, ah, women with painted faces, white painted, and elaborate kimono. They do arts. Like, dance, and, aa, I do not know the English name. It is music instrument. Like guitar. But not guitar. Things like that. Also, they work at tea houses, serve tea for people when requested. I think I have a picture, maybe, somewhere.” She considered this for a moment, knowing that when she had left Kyoto over a year before she had taken pictures of everything she could that she would not find outside of Japan—temples, tea houses, stores, people, and, yes geisha. It was the main reason she had kept her cell phone around, despite not being able to use its service.

“And, Daikanyama is… fashion district. Many big stores—good stores—there. Very nice. My favorite place.” She trailed off once more listening to Lilia, nodding as she spoke of English and Russian, “Japan has those words too. Like, yugen, it has no English. But, English have many words Japanese does not, too. Which is why, I think, we have whole writing system just for foreign words…” she laughed, “but maybe not. I never really listen in class.”

Nanako transferred her gaze from her boots back to Lilia, considering the question, “This name, Nanako, is stupid name. Nana is, like, seven,” she held out seven fingers in demonstration, “and ko is daughter. So, Nanako, is, like, seventh daughter. But… there is only one child in family. I think my parents, they just liked the name. Does your name have meaning?”

[shadow]

Lilia was feeling totally relaxed, and it was the first time she had felt this way around another person here in America. There was something that drew her to Nanako, she felt she had something in common. They were both outsiders, and for Lilia, it meant she didn't have to be on the outside on her own any more, and she could be with someone her own age without feeling dowdy and stupid. She smiled back at Nanako, and nodded.

Lilia giggled. "No worry, don't feel bad. Sometime I not understand no-one, but maybe take me little while to work out. But these words, I not heard before. Maybe we have words for it in Russian, I not know. But please don't feel bad," she begged. She listened, her head tilted to one side, as Nanako explained. "Ah, maybe I know. I not sure. We did not study Japan much at school." She nodded, a vague picture forming in her mind. It had been two or three years before she left Russia, it had been an international day, or something. She wasn't sure, but she thought she knew what Nanako was talking about, which was something.

Lilia nodded. "Maybe you need me teach Japanese," she said quietly, transferring her gaze from the girl on the opposite bed to the book on the bedside table. "That is interesting," she said, absorbing what Nanako had said about her name. "So you is one child, but name of seventh, yes?" While she was asking this, she thought about her name meaning. She frowned, trying to work out how to say it in English. "Lilia mean like the flower Lily, yes? I think lily is a, uh, syn..symb...sign of pure. That make sense, no?"