An Unforgettable Love Story
By Monty Vern
I met her, my future wife, in a small bar on the second day after arriving in Nagoya, Japan for my first job out of college. I’d grown up in Vermont during the 80’s, went to college in upstate New York in the 90’s, and this was my first time ever outside North America. In college, I had taken a freshman writing seminar in Asian-American literature where my piece-de-resistance was “WONDERBREAD” – an essay dripping with stereotypical white guilt wrapped in SAT vocab words (for which I received a B+ to my dismay at the time). Anyway, what I’m trying to say is I was the ultimate gaijin arriving in Japan.
At the time I didn’t speak more than a word or two of Japanese, and certainly I did not have the wherewithal to ‘nanpa’ (i.e., pick-up) a beautiful Japanese girl. I say that as if language was the only barrier, but in full transparency, being a painfully shy and awkward 22-year-old that looked at most 13 years-old was also been a contributing factor. Nevertheless, with the help of an in-between I learned her name and phone number so that we could meet up another day (I also learned that she was in fact Chinese, not Japanese, which will be of some import in just a bit). At the time I was a rather confused and surprised as I’d never, ever (ever!), been successful with such an effort back in the states (I honestly can’t remember even having the ‘confidence’ to try). I suddenly had inappropriate fantasies about having a very ‘lucky’ year in Japan.
Well to speed things along, we ended up having what I thought was our first date, but was in fact, and English lesson, at the Nagoya zoo. She pointed at the Elephant and said “zo”, I pointed at the elephant and said, well, ‘elephant’. It was super romantic (at least to me) and I proceeded to fall head-over-heals and she proceeded to get free English lessons.
Unforgettable
A poem by Monty Vern
He was beautiful in his own majestic way. Sad eyes with lashes that seemed to go on forever. Grey skin wrinkled after years of basking in the sun. Calloused, dusty feet from so many miles trekked.
She was beautiful in every conceivable way. Almond eyes with dark chocolate centers. Radiant skin, translucent in the filtered sunlight. Porcelain feet disappearing into elegant heels.
He stood silently, swaying, almost swinging with musicality. Looking into an unseen distance with somber longing.
She strode with confidence, hips swaying the air around her. Eyes smiling coyly below her hat brim, lips red and inviting.
He sunk onto his calloused joints, no more miles to trek, trapped behind bars as children and couples played beyond reach.
She turned her head toward him, shiny chestnut hair swaying long down her back. Gently pointing with her delicate hand, her voice practically sung, calling out to him.
Reflecting in his large sad eyes, the couple stood side-by-side.
The girl looking his way. The boy seeming awkward and a bit shy as he looked down upon the melting ice cream he held.
Closing his wizened eyes, never forgetting his freedom times, he saw his past in their future, and gifted them with a blessing, for perhaps the last time.
Without so much as a word, just a smiling grin, the girl turned to the boy and proceeded to smush the ice cream he held all over him. The boy guffawed and practically snorted ice-cream up his nose, as his laughter released.
Knowingly and at peace, with the couple’s laughter caressing his floppy ears, he let himself sink to a peaceful slumber.
Unknowingly blessed, the couple departed. A past stitching together their future as their first date at the Nagoya zoo etched into their memories.
Fast forward about 6 months, I was down on my knees proposing to this very same girl ‘Shuri, will you marry me’. And for mysterious reasons she agreed. We had our very first kiss – it was sweet. I then met her sister, then brother, then finally her parents to ask permission for her hand. And for mysterious reasons they agreed too.
Six weeks later we were applying for our marriage license and the administrator asked her name and she replied, ‘Xiuli’. This was not the name of the girl that I proposed to. This was not the name of the girl, whose parents, granted permission to marry me. Yet this girl was my fiancé and skipping forward a week, she was my wife. While this was just a bit of ‘names lost in translation’, it was just the beginning of uncovering the real girl within the stranger I’d just married.
Twenty-five years later, I’m still discovering new things about her. What a curious journey this has turned out to be.
It has been such a pleasure getting to know, and working with Monty this past year. Few folks have the ability to feel and express themselves so deeply, and still not take it too seriously. He allows his open heart to be the driving force behind his relentless creativity, and the quality and feeling of his work reflects just that. Check out Monty’s website with his blog and original artwork!
