Memoirs of a geisha-wannabe

I really love my current layout. For those who don’t know, I am currently reading Memoirs Of A Geisha by Arthur Golden. Reading all about beautiful kimonos and such made me wish I had one, or that I could wear one right now. So there I was, reading away in my bedroom when all of a sudden, I remembered that I had worn a kimono once when I was a little kid. I was four years old then, and it was for United Nations Day at my school. I swear to God, I could’ve been a genius or something because for some reason I was placed in a class with other six-year olds. But I think I always hated school ever since. I remember that once after recess, I didn’t want to go back to the classroom and spent all day sitting on the swings. I’m not sure if I got in trouble for that or not, but I did remember that this one guy who was in grade school or high school stopped and asked me why I didn’t want to go back to my classroom. As early as two years old I remember an angry teacher telling me to stand in the corner. I also remember asking bites from everyone’s baons (snacks) during recess, even though I had one of my own. I dunno. Other people’s baons always tasted better than mine. Even until now, hehe. But I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah, the kimono.

The kimono wasn’t mine; it belonged to our Japanese next-door neighbor. Her name was Mrs. Oki and she must’ve been around fifty years old. She had a daughter named Yayo who I think was a teenager then. I remember Mrs. Oki telling me that she liked me because I looked a lot like her daughter. I had really small eyes when I was a kid, and although I hardly saw Yayo I’d sometimes catch a glimpse or two of her whenever I would visit Mrs. Oki. I didn’t see our resemblance because her skin was whiter than mine and her eyes were smaller.

Anyway, I was supposed to be Ms. Korea for United Nations but since my mom didn’t know where to get a Korean costume, she asked Mrs. Oki if she could borrow a kimono instead. The kimono belonged to Yayo and I remember that it was way too big for me. I felt kind of uncomfortable in it, especially when I walked. But when I looked at those UN pictures recently, I was surprised to see that the kimono fit me perfectly. I dunno. Maybe kimono are meant to be really loose or something. Unfortunately, I don’t remember how I wore it. My mom said that the obi–the red belt thingie–was really long though, and that there was a certain technique to tying it. So that I would look more Korean, my mom let me hold this Korean doll that my grandpa gave me. It was my first time to hold that doll because my mom kept it in a box and never let me play with it.

Mrs. Oki died suddenly when I was around seven or eight years old. We had just arrived from a family vacation when we learned of her death, and I was quite sad to hear that. She had always been real nice to me; always gave me free potato chips. Then a few months later, I heard from the maids that Yayo got pregnant and had a son. I saw him a few times before Yayo moved away after two or three years. The new people who moved next door were noisy and sang karaoke a lot. They had a rooster with them and I remember shooting at it with a water gun. The two guys my age who lived there yelled at me for doing that, and I remember feeling scared.

Funny how I can remember all sorts of stuff from my childhood, yet I can never retain those stupid math formulas in my head.