A Night in a Foreign Land

　When I’m walking alone across the ocean, I find comfort in the fact that, to those around me, I’m nothing more than an odd-looking Asian Guy A. No matter where I go, I always end up spending my time at a bar in a quiet town—places far from the city center and not even tourist spots.

　I suppose it’s unusual for an Asian person to show up alone.

　Maybe I look like someone carrying a certain sadness, as if I have a story behind me. A breakup, unemployment, something like that. People around me are always kind. People overseas are very kind to “someone who’s all alone.” They casually fuss over you, saying things like, “If you need anything, just say so!” If I were with other people, I’d just be another couple or a group of tourists, and the novelty would fade. Being alone is what matters.

　I sit down on a chair, drink as much as I like, and blend into the town.

　Abroad, you should generally be wary of strange people, but in this state I am simply “a mysterious Oriental guy boldly drinking alone in a bar on the edge of town.” In other words, from the world’s point of view, I fit more than well enough into the category of weirdos myself. Once you become the strange one, strange things stop happening to you, relatively speaking. The calm goes on.

　As a pure Okinawan, I drink a fair amount.

　I have no desire to drag anyone else into my pace, and at the same time I have no interest in drinking alone in Japan. So I end up lingering for hours in some quiet bar overseas, guzzling drinks as a peculiar Asian drunk. I love this time very much.

　Even if I had a lover I truly adored, or were out with a close friend I’ve known for ten years, the moment another person is involved, it becomes “socializing.” I really just can’t stand having to connect with society. Even if I treasure that kind of time too, I still want, separately, to walk around alone with no purpose in places where I can’t hear Japanese.

　That’s why I can’t get enough of this precious time: far from Japan, far from the city center too, drinking whatever alcohol I want in some bar, with every connection to reality stripped away.

　Since I’m here, I ask them to bring me something they recommend.

　They brought me something I have absolutely no idea about. Apparently it has something to do with wine. The color looks cool. Outside, groups of people chat noisily and laugh together. Watching them, I sit there in a daze, sometimes reading a book on a whim, sometimes listening to the staff, who talk to me to pass the time, tell amusing stories about the town. I’m a foreigner too, after all.

　It is completely night now.

　I’m the only one left in the bar. I drank a lot. I stayed until closing time.

　I drift through the night of a town I know nothing about.

　City streets look kind of like this in Japan too.

　People pass by one by one on their way home, and it makes you feel the end of the day.

　The lights from shops after closing shine on the road.

　A pale bluish white. Or no, is this place still open?

　The feel of the square.

　Stone really is strong. It stands firm for hundreds of years and shapes the townscape.

　In the park, a parent and child were playing with a radio-controlled car. I wanted them to let me join too.

　I’m sure this street must be noisy during the day.

　A green neon light glows eerily. I like how unsettling that color is.

　As you get closer to the city center, the streets grow louder.

　To the people out there enjoying life, I’m the odd one.

　I want to keep wandering all over the world forever as some nameless weirdo. Anywhere is fine. As long as I can just be the odd Oriental Person A, anywhere is fine.