Paul V. Coates – Confidential File, Nov. 6, 1959

 Nov. 6, 1959, Prisoner

Now Hear This and Then Smell This

Paul Coates    THOUGHTS ON THE LONG VOYAGE HOME:  The things you remember most are the sounds and the smells of the Orient.

    The sound, in Japan, of women's voices, subdued but constant, like the chattering of a million delicate, well-bred mice . . . The wailing pleas of Hong Kong women begging the price of a bowl of rice for the gaunt infants they carry strapped to their backs.

    The mysterious, resonant crash of temple gongs . . . The giggling of immaculately uninformed, well fed Japanese school children as they surround tourists and try out their first grade English by shouting, "'allo, goo' bye" . . The almost deafening silence of ragged, grim-faced Hong Kong kids as they surround tourists with their hands outstretched.
   
The exotic click-clack of wooden sandals in the Gion section of Kyoto every evening at 6 as the elegantly kimono'd and powdered geisha girls walk to work.

    The sounds of traffic — blaring horns of the reckless Tokyo cabbies who have been indignantly labeled "Kamikaze drivers" by editorials in the Japanese press . . . The warning bells of bicycle delivery boys precariously balancing luncheon trays on their heads . . . The shrill curses of the Kowloon ricksha boys.

    The whispered invitation to vice by the low bowing Japanese gentleman who stops you on a street corner and asks if you'd be interested in making the acquaintance of, "Nice girl.  College graduate."

Nov. 6, 1959, Abby

    The woman train callers in Tokyo station who announce arrivals and departures in a breathy, intimate murmur . . . The raucous cries of the Chinese sampan girls in Victoria Harbor.

    And the smells — The incense of the temples and shrines . . . The rich odor of tempura frying in a thousand tiny restaurants . . . The overpowering whiffs of Korean cabbage . . . The subtle perfume of the Japanese girls . . . The fish slowly, odoriferously drying in the noonday sun . . . The incredible smell of humanity in decay at Aberdeen where 2,000 families of eternally hungry, dirty, Chinese live on a sea of mud aboard rotted, leaky junks that have been condemned by the British authorities.

Signs of Their Times

    And the signs you saw — the one at Suehiro's steak house announcing: "Mr. John Wayne, American movie actor, ate here fifty one nights in the row." . . . The breakfast menu in an Osaka cafe that lists, "Flench Toast; coffee with cleam, sriced oranges."

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