Dorm

Everyone in college is trying to find themselves. Some people just try way too hard.

There was this self-proclaimed weeaboo who lived down the hall. I’d usually find him in my dorm room playing video games with my roommate and we’d all end up chatting. He was gregarious to the point of obnoxious, the kind of guy who wants to convince everyone of his amazingness. But he was well-meaning, just trying to figure it out like the rest of us.

Even though he knew he was the only person in the room who had been to (or cared about) Japan, he would periodically dialogue about Japanese culture. He’d speak Japanese and do random translations. It seemed pretty impressive.

Maybe he thought I’d be interested in be told about “Asian things”? At the time I literally knew nothing about Japan other than Pokemon and the late night broadcasts of Samurai Champloo I had recently started watching.

Once during a rant, he asserted his Asian identity.

“You know what’s funny James? You’re Chinese but you don’t know anything about Asia. I’ve been to Japan and speak Japanese. I guess that makes me more Asian than you.”

Years later, I realize his translations were terrible.

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