Today, I didn’t have a hard deadline to complete anything. Didn’t have any plan, except to go buy some bread for the cafe stock. I walked into my favorite bakery, England Street Bakery in Tokorozawa. Great! No one seated at the counter which only seats 3 at a time. Plopped my stuff down at my seat and ordered 3 loaves of bread, then took time to select my breakfast items. Hot black coffee, of course. Then decided on scone with clotted cream. They gave me a huge helping of their homemade rhuburb and plum jam with my order.
As I waited for my order to arrive, I noticed an old children’s magazine, “Golden Magazine”, in front of me, so I opened it up. It looked like something around the time I was growing up. Oh, it covers children of different ages. Then I went to the index and looked for article that I would like to read. There it is! “First Lessons in Spanish”! What’s that like? I go to the page, and it has pictures of
Pictures of animals and names written in Spanish and English. I attempt to pronouce some words. Love the illustration! Love the lesson!
Then I flipped through some pages and found a story that I wanted to read. “I GO TO SCHOOL IN GERMANY”. I see the photographs that feels so nostalgic. I never attended school in Germany, but the black and white photographs with the way the people were dressed, the expressions on their faces, the buildings felt so familier. I was in a small city in Germany, Bitburg, back in 1972, so maybe that’s why. I start reading it, and immediately pulled into the world of the writer. The story is written in a voice of a girl, Uschie, in 5th grade at attending a very small school of 100 students from grade 1st through 8th. I love the simple way it is written, so clear, easy to understand. In no time, I am riding the bus with them on the way to Christkindlesmarkt listening to them singing, attending weekly bibles class given by local pastor. But then sometimes, third person thoughts pop up in my head. There must be some solumn process every year in selecting the boy to act as an angel on St Nickolas. Whoa! Every December 6th, the kids receives the judgement whether they have been good or bad for the year, and find out whether or not they receive candy or broomstick for Christmas?! Yeah, when I was in 5th grade, or even well into adulthood, I would have accepted things as they were if someone told me that the castle that overlooks this villege was never officially captured for 900 years by anyone except the Americans during World War II. I was not taught critical thinking until I went to college. If this happened now, I would ask, why was the castle never was captured? Why did the Americans captured it? When was it released? On what terms? How did the locals react? How did it affect the locals lives, etc..
Usually, England Street Bakery is very busy around 10:00 am, but today, it was deserted. I knew it was a rare occasion, so I decided to hang out until the place filled with customers. I orderd another cup of coffee and kept on reading.
The cut out craft Christmas ornament, Christmas sweets cooking recipe by Betty Crocker, crossword puzzle and more stories. I skimmed through “The Icehouse Mystery”, but immediately figured out what was inside was a cat. I had to read the happy ending, so I relished reading the ending that two kids took the kitty home with them. Then I read the story with Disney-like illustration, “Totega: A Story of the Grand Canyon”. It was a story about a boy wh was sent on an errand to find out what was causing missing people from their village. I was so into it, and after 4 pages of the story, it said, the second part to be continued to the next issue. Oh, nooooo! I don’t have the access to the second half of the story! That’s when I took the snapshot of all the pages I looked at and decided to write this piece.
The time I spent reading this children’s magazine at the Bakery England Street was one of the most profoundly enjoyable moment I had in a long time. It wasn’t just the great bread and coffee. It wasn’t just the environment, the interior with all the familier Christmas accessory, the scent of bread, spices and coffee, the old time FM radio music program in English. It wasn’t just the feel of the old wooden table and wooden tray. It wasnt just the children’s magazine from December 1965. It was combination of all of these that brought back to me the wonders and pure joy I felt when I was a child. I don’t remember any grand event I was in that felt grand and wonderful. I only remenber the fragments of details. Like the recent grand wedding Kenzo and his bride had. I cherish the moment of talking to my oldest son in the waiting room, putting on make-up and doing the hair for my mother-in-law, a quick hug as I said good bye to Kenzo at the elevator door. It’s the sight, smell, sound, the feel at that particular moment.
I just had to find out what happened to the boy Tokega who went to rescue the missing people from his village, so I later searched online for the story of Tokega. Guess what? No such individual ever existed. There was someone close to that name in Soux nation, but they were located in Florida rigion, nowhere near the Grand Canyon. Tokega was a fictonal character. I did locate a story that looked like the source of this fiction, a story of Hopi tribesmen who deceived Spaniards about the Grand Canyon which helped keep this region safe from explorers for nearly 300 years. But the power of story telling is truly a magic.
Having this moment of pure joy started when I was around 3 year old. Reading instantly transported me to different places, more so then movies. The details are imprinted. I hope my cafe, Project Kobo Place, offers the kind of experience I have at food places with physical books and magazines to many, many people who read at our place.
