Chapter 1: Kiku - Beginning
Year: 1934
I didn't understand why I came to America, especially in the Great Depression, but here I am, in a place called New York. Apparently Father has friends there that will help me settle and a job position for me there. I would like to avoid such bustling places, since I live in the country since birth, but it seems there was still money left for those who would work for less, given they would handle strange hours and uncomfortable living spaces.
However, I was fortunate to live in one of the outskirts of the city's limits, but this also means that I have to travel back and forth. Even more so that my father's friend found the house for rent, meaning that I would have to pay to live in it. If Father didn't ask me to do this, I would've refused and stayed in my own isolated life while everything else is advancing without my knowing. But Father wanted me to expand my horizons starting with living here for four years, working and knowing the Western culture as best possible.
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After sometime, and fortunate that I was able to keep my name through the check point, I met with the one who my father trusts to look after me for short time I would be here. I soon realized why when he guided me through the crowds, being one of few with a dark blue kimono, and we entered an automobile that I've heard about and rarely seen. He knew the language and dressed accordingly, but people still stared with a sense of distaste. He assured me that it was because foreigners such as I were getting jobs that Americans have to offer, but not many want to do but do it because some have families to support or just to make it through the next day.
That discontent wasn't on Americans alone…
Other foreigners from Spain, Italy, and other countries felt this heavy atmosphere. On our way out of the city, someone threw a tomato at the window where I was sitting. I looked through the pale red juice and saw someone shouting in a language that I know wasn't English. My guide and guardian told me we're in a small Italian community and that he probably is from or was raised in a household from Southern Italy. I didn't want to ask why he assumed that, in fact I figured I wouldn't get involved for as long as I'm here so that I would not find myself in a certain conflict later on.
o0o0o0o
About an hour in he stopped by a house that is to be my home for a few years.
"Ah! Looks like the folks that you're going to rent out to just moved in as well."
I didn't ask further, seeing that I only need to pay the considerable amount and not be a bother to them.
After getting a tour of the strange building and showed how the appliances work, he left, telling me that he will pick me up to take me to work from this point on, and I was left all alone.
The first night on American soil is the worst experience I've felt since leaving home by my father's order. I placed the blankets and pillows on the ground and slept on the floor that night, trying to find my sense of normalcy in this foreign land I've stepped on.
My name is Honda, Kiku. I'm twenty years old and this is how my story begins.