Zunbara Zuihitsu Chapter 4 "The Village Miracle"

 In 1986, I met two of my friends at the 57th NIPPONCLUB Gallery.

As for its surroundings, this is where senior artist Goroh Saitoh held a solo exhibition in New York. We were seated for the commemorative exhibition party on the first day: many Americans, a couple of Chinese and us Japanese. One of them was Newsweek journalist at the time, Durian Bencoil. When he attended an interview, I got introduced to him, and I never thought we would become good friends. The next day, Bencoil accompanied Goroh to a radio station where he was tasked as an interpreter, and I was the photographer to document it, then Bencoil recommend us a restaurant for a hearty brunch. That was all. The other was the UN desk, MISS Kumi Yasui, Michiyo Yasui's daughter, the producer for Goroh Saitoh's solo exhibition. She was interested in me as a composer and we gathered about talking for 15 minutes. That was it.

Time had passed, and it was June of 1989. I arrived in the US alone, unpacked my luggage in my apartment in Lexington (Avenue) and slowly went out to visit Manhattan. I took the 6th metro to Greenwich Village and strolled with a sidelong glance at the balloon wagon. A couple passed by me in the crowd. My memories were shaking. I knew that man. I knew that American. Who was it.....umm...oh! That time we were at the radio station, at brunch....oh man, I couldn't figure out his name...

"Hello, you must be Goroh, Mister Saitoh. erm, Goroh Saitoh--"

"I'm not Goroh Saitoh. Who's Goroh Saitoh-- ah, you must be..."

"Oh yeah, I'm MASA. MASA, the composer!"

"Oh, YES! I KNOW YOU!"

Bencoil told me he would be at the insurance office that instant, so I parted way with him, replying I would see him again tomorrow, and walked straight to Washington Square. It took me about 15 minutes. Through the gates in front of a bench beside the puppy playground, a Japanese woman held a hula hoop while merrily chatting with an Oriental boy.

Wait....that's not Kumi!

"Hello there, it's Kumi"

[blank stare]

"I'm Yamamoto."

"Oh, aaaahhhh--"

"Here we go again."

"Wooaah---- such an honor to meet you!"

That night, me and Kumi, who lived at the Bronx at the time, listened to jazz at the Village Vanguard with Seiya Harukawa, ate cake at W4 street, and warmed our friendship.

The next day, me, Bencoil and Cathy (accompanying Bencoil) bought ground meat, charcoal and zucchini from the supermarket, and grilled fresh hamburgers at Cathy's apartment where we had our dinner.

Your town is at Greenwich in Sheridan Square / The town where Italians sell charcoal at corner stores (TOWN lyric allusion)

This miracle keeps on going for its time.

Every time I go to New York, every where I go in New York, Bencoil suddenly became my family. Kumi is happily married to a university professor in Saitama, and I always go to her dates with my mother in New York. I walked past the Waldorf Astoria Hotel and onto Park Avenue, where I sipped myself a good cup of black cup at a cafe in Madison (avenue).

Then that happened to me. Back in 1986, I bumped into Goroh's wife, Kyoko, who lived with us at a house in Forest Hills, at the Empire State Building.

In 1989, I bumped into my apartment roommate, Mushiroda, at Madison Square Garden.

In 1995, I bumped into Mii Miyazawa, who stayed with me at Cosmopolitan condominium 21B, at the Broadway ticket booth.

How many people do you think there are in New York? This was where I bumped into my own family and ate together one morning.

New York is just a town, where the impossible becomes possible. A town where wonderful experiences await you.

<A SUREAL TOWN>

Don't drag your silly-dilly Japanese personal relationships with you. Come and play with me; I'll take care of you.

Original Japanese: https://bellabeaux.co.jp/yamamoto/zunbara/zun004.html

This is the first of the couple set of chapters that would be left standing on that page to this day.