DEPAYS5 STACK003

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linguistic baggage except the indispensable excuses and thank-yous,
along with various combinations of the word neko, and from each
stop you’ve kept the memory of the merchant who left his shop
to lead you to the foot of the building you were looking for, the
guardian of the cat cemetery (neko dera) in Osaka who escorted you
for twenty minutes, absolutely undiscouraged by the limited nature
of your vocabulary, plying you with all kinds of intimate observations,
to leave you on a major street traversed by buses (which also means
of course that you, stupid foreigner, would never have been able to
find it all alone -but since courteous condescendence is so much
more pleasant than hostile equality…). This kind of interchange also
takes far stranger forms. In one of those charming little trains in
Hokkaido, all dark wood and green felt (Larbaud would have loved
them), you keep sneaking glances at the magazine being read by
your neighbor, as you’ve seen an illustrated article on the takenoko,
the little Sunday dancers in Yoyogi park, and you think you recognize
one of the young girls you also photographed. Without having
expressed your intention in the slightest sign, you mentally form
the project of politely borrowing her magazine when she finishes
reading. At which point, still reading, she slips off to sleep. I’ll wait
till she awakens, you think. A few minutes later she does, and
immediately she hands you the magazine. Clear enough. Harmony
has struck again.