Who are you?
That's a strange way to start the letter. But sometimes, Jon-Michael, I'm afraid. I'm afraid that you and I are actually the same person. I'm afraid that when you left China you never actually left, and that I was reborn to be the replacement English teacher for the next year. So when you hopped on the plane, your soul was transplanted into my awaiting body, because everyone knows there's no lands outside China. It's all an illusion.
I have inherited your apartment. What happened to the apartment, Jon-Michael? It was so dusty, but now I know that wasn't your fault. You did leave a lot of assignments in a drawer, though. That was a lot of paper to throw away. You also left a few glasses, and a bucket for which I am thankful. But you also left a broken heater (maybe you also did not know how to use it?) and wax on the floor.
Where did the wax come from, Jon-Michael? Were you making candles? Were you making soap? I can't imagine why on earth there is red/brownish wax on my floor. At least I was informed that the lizard skeleton and the writing on the walls was not you.
Did the writing bother you too? Did it whisper to you, our soul from three years ago, a message? I imagine it actually says to me, "Hello!" and "This is a cool place to go!" and "All who inherit this apartment are actually the same person!"
Do you know what else I have inherited from you, Jon-Michael?
Your students.
They talk about you. All the time. As if I should know you. As if I should be you. Constantly they remind me of how we should be the same. I inherited your apartment, after all.
This is no more evident than today, when I translated a Japanese speaker from a news story. Our students, our awesome students, they said, "Oh, you speak Japanese! Just like Jon-Michael!"
I then explained that I'd lived in Japan for a year and a half, which is why I understood Japanese.
"Oh! Just like Jon-Michael! He lived in Japan too! He was also a very fun teacher!"
Who are you? Why do you haunt me at every turn? You and I, we speak Japanese, we have the same apartment, but we're not alike, right?
Right?
Oh wait.
Our birthdays.
I'm a day older than you. Officially.
Somehow I do not find this comforting. Somehow this theory of mine, that I am your reincarnated soul in China, it holds more water with this fact.
So I've tried to learn about you, but there's only so much I can learn from people. I know you were a vegan. I know you liked drinking. I know you were a lot of fun, and that your students love you even now and have not forgotten you. You were everything I am not; shorter, skinny, vegan, and a man.
Why do you haunt me so? Why do you fill my thoughts, making me everyday wonder about what sort of person you are?
Wait.
I remember.
You named your wireless "The Poopery".
...
WHO DOES THAT?
With much love,
The person who inherited your apartment, students, and cannot figure you out for the life of me but I'm pretty sure you're a cool guy,
Eaaf
PS ALSO WE TOLD THE SAME HALLOWEEN STORY NOES
A letter, of sorts...
ReplyDeleteDear Eaaf,
I apologize that it has taken me so long to respond to your letter. Had I known it existed, I would have responded many weeks ago. However, having just discovered it I will now attempt to reply in a cohesive and coherent form. I must apologize again, for I fear many of the answers will not meet your needs.
My name is Jon-Michael Durkin, and having read some of your blogs I really understand your meaning when you say that we are actually the same person.
First let me talk about the apartment. It is true that in the final weeks of my stay in Kaifeng I did stop dusting. You should know that at the height of my living period I kept a very neat house. However, I realized in May that the apartment would sit vacant and uncleaned for two months post departure and I stopped. There was no point to it.
You are correct that it was a lot of paper to throw away. Actually, I thought I had taken all my paper to Jackie for recycling purposes, but apparently I did not. Alas, I am an imperfect being.
The glasses were mine, and I used to have a lot more cooking materials, but at the very end I gave them to Ben. Sorry I didn't leave you with more.
I cannot take credit for the wax, the lizard skeleton, or the writing on the walls. Those pre-dated my stay and, I think, should continue on for the foreseeable future. It adds to the charm of the apartment, you see. It gives a life and lineage to the building and rooms inside. Please keep these things the way they are for the next person.
Our students. Our awesome students. I correspond with many of them, and I am told by Alexis that you are kind and compassionate. Please keep up the great work and continue to nurture them. You'll miss them when you leave, even if you decide by the end of your time that China is not to your liking.
If you would like to correspond sometime, feel free to email me at ran2004(at)gmail.
Best Regards,
Jon-Michael
(PS, you really told the hairy toe story? On purpose?)