Paying an annual budget of Japan to buy a Japanese

 

About thirty years ago, in mid 1990’s, I was waiting for her at ticket gates of Kensington Underground station in London.

 

As I leaned on the stone object, which looked line a fountain, I noticed there was a young man  looking at me.

 

I was slightly startled, thinking why he was looking at me. Then he came forward with soft smile on his face

 

“Anna？”

 

I could not recognise his voice, but behind his adult face, I remembered his younger days

Besides, there is no one who knew my name

 

“Kamire？”

 

Bingo.

 

He was brother of my best friend from a language unit of an international school in London.

We sit at the same class, and we had lots of fun during the brake.

7 years passed since then

 

The boy who was a12 years old at that time, became 17 years old grown-up boy now. His voice changed, and was wearing thin beard.

I nearly gave him a big hug, but realised that he is no longer the little boy I knew.

 

“My sister sent me to tell you that she will be late”

“Oh, I see. By the way, you CHANGED so much!”

“So you do!”

“You were about this hight, that I could pick you up, you know. And you are growing your beard!”

As we chatted along, my friend Niloofar came rushing towards us from ticket gate.

 

“Gosh, it’s so nice to see you at last !!”

“It’s so nice to see you, too!”

 

N turned to her brother.

“Thank you, my dear, were you alright? did you pass her my message along?”

“Yes, I did”

I couldn’t help but cut in.

“Your brother has changed so much, I couldn’t recognise him at first”

“Yeah, he has changed a lot since then”

 

She picked up a packet of Marlboro, and lit a cigarette as she spoke

“There’s a good restaurant around the corner"

 

We went to Italian restaurant, which was at a sort of hidden place near the Kensington station

 

We caught up what we had been doing over the past 5 years. She has just finished taking extra A Level exam, and just had University entrance interview before coming to the station today.

 

As we talked along, our conversation circled around the language unit, a small class in an international school. We studied there about 4 months together. We started from an intermediate class for 12-16 years old. We studied together, read together and talked together.

As we graduate from language unit to “proper class” to study math, science and English etc. we met occasionally and updated news and gossip.

 

Once we finished one year, we went to separate schools. However coincidentally we met at an basketball match, where we were so happy to see each other, nearly went crazy to meet at an unexpected situation.

 

As we recollected out memories, we laughed so much.

 

What DAYS we had!”

“Yeah, what days we had! Not many can talk about the days we had”

I could not help myself thinking that I am talking to the precious friend once again. There are only about 10 of us who can share the memory at the language unit, and I assumed most of them were scatted across the globe now. It was lucky than Niloofar’s family hadn’t moved or changed the address. I could call her and meet again – we would never meet once again in case her family had moved back to Iran.

 

Next afternoon, we met again and she introduced me to her boyfriend. We went to have lunch at Chinese restaurant. He was a friendly Tunisian, and I told them what I am going to do in the coming year at the University in North as an exchange student.

 

After the meal, the boyfriend invited me to his flat. There were three flatmates, who all came from Tunisia. We had good time there, we even danced along the music along the guitar which one of the flatmates was playing.

 

At early evening, they to me to the nearest pub. As a pious Moslem, they opted for gigerale. I had a half pint of stout.

 

Then a weird customer said to me.

 

“Are you Japanese？”

“Yes”

“How much?”

Very rude comment, indeed. I came up with an idea.

“Do you know the annual budget of Japan?”

“More than a billion”

“Well then, get yourself a billion yen, and take it to the prime minister of Japan”

“WHAT?”

“You are buying Japan, right? So it takes a billion yen to buy me”

“…….”

“If you are serious, prepare a billion yen in cash, and take it to the prime minister by yourself. Oh, but it must be lunch time in Japan so you will have to wait. Bring the cash with respect, you are meeting the head of Japan”

“Would a bank transfer do?”

“Who would trust a bank??”

“Are you a prostitute?”

“No. I am a Japanese national”

 

We laughed as we get out of the pub. Niloofar’s boyfriend held the door open for us

 

We couldn’t help laughing. The man’s face, when he heard “to prepare a billion yen in cash” as simply hilarious

 

We laughed as we run the empty street. We jumped over the chains between bollards until we get totally tired of laughing and running.

 

Pay an annual budget of Japan to buy me. What a cheek.

 

It was truly funny event, and I was so happy that my friends got the joke

 

Niloofar said she is not good at writing letter to keep in touch.

We were in touch for couple of years after that, but being graduated from university and started job, my life also changed and we lost each other.

 

I sometime wonder what she is doing nowadays. Maybe married to her boyfriend and raising a family.

 

Whoever she is with now, I sincerely hope she is fine and leading a happy life, and living somewhere on this globe.