From Japan With Love

Whoever says that Church girls are boring clearly never met Mayumi "May" Yokomitsu. I must admit, the first time I met her, I honestly didn't know what to make of her. I mean, how many Asian girls do you know attend a Black Church? Path Of Hope Baptist Church, located at the heart of Vanier, Ontario, is a predominantly Black Church. The pastor, Dr. Henry Jerome Etienne, is Haitian, as is forty five percent of the congregation. The remaining fifty five percent is a hodgepodge of Jamaicans, Nigerians, Ghanaians, along with a few non-Blacks.

The Church is fairly diverse, in fact, fifteen percent of the membership is of European descent. In a milieu where everything is literally Black or White, Mayumi Yokomitsu is Asian, and that made her different with a capital D. I kind of know how she must feel. The name's Jay, short for Jack. I am half Black and half White, born to a Haitian immigrant father and White Canadian mother. I'm six-foot-one, somewhere between mildly chubby and borderline fat, and I have light brown skin, curly Black hair and lime-green eyes.

People often ask me if I'm anything from Hispanic to Moroccan. I always tell them that I'm mixed, biracial or mulatto, whatever the word of the day which describes people like me happens to be. I really don't give a fuck about labels. I am only me. I mean, seriously, when will people stop being obsessed with race? I'm not naïve enough to believe I will see such a thing happen in my lifetime, but I do hope it happens someday. I mean, we're all creations of the same God, right?

I have never been what you'd consider very religious. My parents, Marcus Laroche and Lynn Malvern-Laroche are devout Catholics, like most people in Quebec, where I was born. Growing up in the Catholic diocese of Montreal, I gained a certain level of respect for all things connected with Christendom, then later grew disillusioned due to Church politics. My sister Marian is a devout Catholic, as is my older brother Ivan. He's currently studying theology at the University of Montreal and hopes to become a priest someday. Best of luck to him. Me? Let me put it this way. I believe in God, it's people that I can't stand.

My good friend and roommate Reese Sheldon is a short, stocky White guy with reddish brown hair and green eyes. We met at Carleton University during freshman year. I'm in political science and he's in criminology. Reese is seriously into Black chicks, to the point that I nicknamed him Robin Thick. He's the one who first invited to Path Of Hope Baptist Church. His girlfriend Geraldine Voltaire, a six-foot-tall, dark-skinned Haitian chick with sharp features and a gigantic ass is part of the choir.

I kept putting off Reese's invitation until finally I gave in just to shut him up. I've grown weary of Churches in general, especially the ones lacking diversity. I don't do all-White Churches or all-Black Churches. As a mixed guy, I don't really fit in either category. I won't tell you how many times I've been insulted by both Blacks and Whites for being 'too mellow to be a real brother' and too 'rough around the edges' to be a member of club Whitey. I tell both sides to kiss my high-yellow ass. Fuck you.

Anyways, I went to the Church and met with Reese and Geraldine, and did the polite smile and handshake thing with quite a few people. Black Churches typically take a long time, and Path Of Hope was no exception. I tried to stay focused as Pastor Jacques, a stocky older Black gentleman, prattled on about forgiveness and sin. Seated up front, right behind the podium, his wife Catherine Berger, a lovely, professionally attired Black woman in her mid-thirties, kept nodding at everything he said. The First Lady of Path Of Hope Baptist Church, ladies and gentlemen.

I looked around, and beheld the Church's diversity. Here and there, White and Hispanic families among the throngs of Africans and Afro-Caribbean people. Most of the White people I saw were male, and they were flanked by their Black wives and Black girlfriends. The few White women I saw tended to be 'mature'. Cool. Just what I expected. Black women run the Black Church and trust me when I tell you that they don't invite a lot of young White women to visit. They don't want blondes stealing their ( Black ) men. Of course, Black female/White male couples are more than welcome. When the Church choir took center stage, we were treated to a display of singing talent that would put American Idol to shame. One of the singers caught my attention.

A short, slender young Asian woman in a White blouse and knee-length Black shirt, with her pair in a ponytail. The only non-Black person on the ten-person and all-female choir, this gal was singing loudly and passionately. I mean, she had a set of pipes on her, man. I found myself admiring her. We have a lot of Chinese people in Montreal, Quebec, but they're almost a group apart from other recent immigrants. You see, Chinese Canadians tend to associate more with White people than other minority groups. Hopefully other Asians don't share this had habit.

There's stereotypes about every group, I know this intimately. The pretty Asian gal at the Church had caught my eye, and I definitely wanted to get to know her better. At the end of the service, I discretely asked Reese to introduce me to Miss Asian Beauty here and like the genius he is, he got his girlfriend on the job. Friends, if you don't already know, let me tell you. Black people are among the biggest racists and hypocrites when it comes to interracial relationships. A Black mother will fawn over her daughter's White boyfriend but she will give the cold to a White woman brought home by her son.

My father is Black and my mother is White, and for the most part, when we're out together as a family, we tend to get more verbal hostility from Black folks than White folks. Of course, both sides stare...a lot. For this and many other reasons, I was initially apprehensive when Reese told Geraldine to introduce me to her fellow choir member. Nevertheless, Geraldine made the introductions, with all the enthusiasm of someone marching into the doctor's office for a rectal exam. I ignored her and smiled at the pretty Asian gal. You sing beautifully, I said, allowing myself to gush a bit.

Thank you kindly I'm May, she said, extending her small, delicate hand for me to shake. I shook her hand, and looked into her lovely brown eyes. Good to meet you I'm Jack, I said. May had a lovely smile, sweet and yet, utterly fearless. I told her I'm from Montreal and study at Carleton. Me too, May said excitedly. We stared at each other silently, for a moment, and then Geraldine cleared her throat, reminding us of her existence. Choir meeting after Church service, she said evenly, while rolling her eyes. I smiled at May. It was good to meet you, I said, and shook her hand again. Pleasure's all mine Jack, May said, waving me goodbye as Geraldine all but dragged her away.

Haters gonna hate, I thought, watching May as she walked away. The lady is lovely, front and back. I'm definitely going to holler at her first chance I get. After Church, I went home, and immediately logged on Facebook. I looked up May and found her among Reese Sheldon's friends. I immediately sent her a friend request, and since we had at least one mutual friend, I was able to peer through her profile. I browsed through her profile. Mayumi Yokomitsu, born on November 8, 1992. Hmmm. A Scorpio, eh? I like the sound of that. I was born on February 3, 1991. I'm an Aquarius, and proud to be.

While I sat there, pondering this, Mayumi accepted my friend request and sent me a message. Hello stranger, she wrote. Hmmm. Whatever happened to the after Church meeting? I wrote back. Mayumi seemed quite amused by that. What was her reply? L.O.L. followed by 'I had to ditch'. Rubbing my hands together, I had to smile. Sounds promising, I thought. I ended up talking to Mayumi online for twenty minutes, then we exchanged numbers.

Now, when you're meeting a woman for the first time, getting her number can be tricky. Most females don't give out their number easily, but some are fairly open-minded. Mayumi told me that she felt like she knew me since she'd been friends with Reese all the time and he talks about me a lot. Of course he does. White guys love to mention their token Black friend. Mayumi surprised me with the shit she learned about me from Reese. That bozo even told her about that time in Montreal-Nord when I stopped some thugs from giving his Melanin-challenged behind a sound beating.

Typically, I'm of the belief that loose lips sink ships but for once, I was thankful for Reese Sheldon's blabbermouth ways. Got me Mayumi's number. I sent her a text wishing her goodnight, and then excused myself, something about finishing a paper for one of my classes at Carleton. Stay blessed and see you soon, Mayumi texted back, and I smiled as I read it. I didn't have shit to do but I didn't want her to think I'm all about her. That's the worst thing you can do with a female. You've got to keep them guessing.

The next day I ran into Mayumi, I was walking through the University Center atrium at Carleton. I spotted a familiar-looking Asian gal ( with a big butt ) talking to a small crowd of Black students. Who else could it be? I thought, and walked up to her. Hello Jack, she said, perking right up. We shook hands, and I gave her a quick once-over. Mayumi looked pretty hot in a Black T-shirt featuring Tupac Shakur and blue jeans. I think I looked pretty dapper myself in a red T-shirt, Black jeans and Timberland shoes. What's up Miss M? I said, licking my lips.

Mayumi flashed that fearless smile I would come to know so well. I'm volunteering for the Zulu Youth Education Fund, she said proudly. I had to scratch my head at that. Seriously, what's going on here? An Asian chick who's into everything African, that's definitely not something you see every day. You've visited Africa recently or something? I asked Mayumi, curiosity getting the best of me. Mayumi looked at me, hands on her hips. I'll do you one better I was born in South Africa, she said proudly.

Dude, if Mayumi said she was from the moon I would have been less shocked. Come again? I said, more than a bit surprised. Mayumi laughed, and told me that she was born and raised in Johannesburg, South Africa. Her parents, Kamiko and Shiro Yokomitsu moved to South Africa from Osaka, Japan, in 1989. I'm a proud citizen of South Africa, Mayumi said, her eyes boring into mine. I like your style, I said, a bit chastised but keeping it cool. I was ready to bounce, but Mayumi caught my arm. We're having an event this Friday at eight, she said, all serious now.

I looked at Mayumi's hand on my arm, and smiled. Strong grip you got there lady, I said evenly. Sorry, Mayumi said, smiling quickly. You really should come to the meeting, she insisted. I nodded at that. Pretty lady wants to flag me down she need not apologize, I said coyly, and Mayumi burst out laughing raucously. See you Friday pretty lady, I said smoothly, then shook her hand and walked away. I could feel Mayumi looking at me as I headed toward the Tory building. What can I say? I got it like that.

Friday came, and I met Mayumi and her friends in a room inside Southam Hall, for my introduction to the Zulu Youth Education Fund. There were eleven people at the meeting, and Mayumi was one of three non-Blacks. I was quite surprised to hear that she was co-president of the club, her buddy James Zithulele was the president. The meeting began with a short prayer, then introductions were made. I had no idea there were so many South African students at Carleton University. Cool. The only two White people in the club, Justine Hauser and Michelle Vollmer, were from South Africa as well.

That's kind of cool, Black south Africans and their White counterparts actually getting along and everything. I honestly feared the country might slip into anarchy and even racial warfare after the death of the great Nelson Mandela. Lord knows that man did a lot of things for humanity as a whole. The meeting rolled on, and there was talk of fundraisers and whatnot. I learned that Mayumi was an international student here at Carleton, something which surprised me since she spoke English fluently, with no detectable accent. Wow.

After the meeting, I invited Mayumi to grab a drink with me at Oliver's Pub, the only bar on campus. There, over sandwiches, fries and Pepsis, I got to know her a bit better. Mayumi is one complex woman, then again, what woman isn't? A Japanese woman born and raised in South Africa, fluent in English, Swahili, German, Dutch, French, Spanish, and the Zulu mother tongue. I speak English and French and some Haitian Creole, and I often felt like a tough cookie around my friends. Mayumi the polyglot put me to shame.

The more I learned about Mayumi, the more fascinated I became. I've met a lot of smart women at the university but she was in a class by herself. I mean, she was only a year younger than I, and she had a bachelor's degree in business from the University of Johannesburg in South Africa. Fortunately for Mayumi, Carleton University accepted her credentials and she's in the MBA program at the Sprott School of Business. A lot of Canadian educational institutions only accept transfer credits from schools in America, Australia, New Zealand, or the United Kingdom. If you're from Latin America, the Caribbean or other 'third world' places, good luck getting a job in Canada with your degree.

Sad world we live in, but the Canadian government is protectionist and expansionist at the same time. They're trying to keep immigrants out while seeking to increase their territory, especially in the Arctic regions. As a Native-born Canadian, I'm out of their reach ( or so I hope ) but I decry my government's policies. When Mayumi told me what Carleton University charged international students, I was appalled. They're fleecing these poor bastards! Not fair, I said, looking her in the eye. Mayumi shrugged her lovely shoulders. It's my life, she said wistfully.

I looked at this lovely young woman, and saw a strength within her that astounded me. Mayumi clearly hasn't had an easy life, and moving from south Africa to Canada must have been quite a shocker for her. Canada isn't the easiest country to navigate if you're a foreigner. My Haitian father told me numerous stories of his desperate struggle as a young Black man in Quebec in the 1980s. Struggles I can't relate to since I was born here. You're something extraordinary, I told Mayumi, saying the first thing that popped into my head.

Mayumi looked at me, an amused look in her big brown eyes. Mr. Laroche are you hitting on me? she said coyly. I looked at her, stroked my barely-there goatee, and fixed a serious look on my face. Yes ma'am I am, I said in my best southern accent. Mayumi burst out laughing, and gently laid her hand on mine. Very good answer Jack, she said, looking into my eyes. I smiled, looked at her small hand on mine and grinned before sipping my Pepsi. I couldn't stop grinning. Chemistry, what can I say?

I took Mayumi to the Silver City movie theater, where we watched Ride Along. Mayumi delighted me with quotes from Ice Cube's best movies, annoying the hell out of the people sitting in our row, who kept trying to shush us but to no avail. I didn't know Mayumi liked 'urban' movies, what a pleasant surprise. After the movie, as our fellow moviegoers glared at us angrily, we left the theater and grabbed some Chinese restaurant located near the mall across the street.

Taking a Japanese-descended woman to a Chinese restaurant might have been a cultural faux pas given their history but Mayumi didn't seem to mind. I fucking love Chinese food, she said, elbowing me as we sat down. Mayumi is a voracious eater, something which surprised me since she's not exactly big. At five-foot-eight and maybe 120 pounds, Mayumi is positively tiny. At least while standing next to me. Yet she had two plates of shrimp-fried rice with orange chicken, beef teriyakis, three egg rolls and one egg foo young. All this the lady washed down with two Pepsis. Me? I had crab Rangoon with shrimp-fried rice and a soda. Damn son!

After dinner, Mayumi and I took the bus, and parted ways at Hurdman station. I was heading to my place in Vanier, and she was headed to Carleton. She lives in residence. I had a wonderful time, I told her, and gave her a hug. Mayumi hugged me back, then stood on her tippy toes. At the last moment, completely unexpectedly, Mayumi planted one on me. That's right, this sexy Japanese-descended South African cutie kissed me. On the lips. A three-second peck. Bye now, Mayumi grinned, and dashed off the bus. Damn.

I stood there, smiling, my heart thundering in my chest as I replayed recent moments in my mind. The feel of Mayumi's supple body in my arms, her light yet intoxicating perfume, and her soft lips against mine. The bus left Hurdman station and I didn't snap out of my reverie until Rideau. Great, I missed my stop because I was daydreaming about a chick. A seriously hot chick. I shrugged, and walked through the Rideau Center and made my way to the bus stops downstairs. I caught the number nine heading from downtown to Vanier, and sat down. My phone buzzed, and I smiled when I saw Mayumi's text. You got sweet lips handsome, she wrote. I grinned from ear to ear. Damn, I got it like that, huh?

And so it began, ladies and gentlemen. My life-changing romance with Mayumi. We're very different, and we argue a lot of the time but guess what? We're happy together. Three months after we met, I introduced Mayumi to my parents. My dad was quite taken with her, and my mom told me she was nice but advised me to be careful. Mom says the same thing no matter who I've dated/brought home since high school. It's usually good advice. I know that my mom got my back no matter what. Means the world to me.

The only people in my life who don't like the fact that Mayumi and I are now a couple are, ironically, Reese Sheldon and his girlfriend Geraldine Voltaire. In fact, I noticed a change in Reese's behavior in recent times. One week after our first kiss, Mayumi and I officially became a couple. We were coming out of this little mall near Lincoln Fields when we ran into Reese and Geraldine. Here we were, hand in hand, when we saw them. We waved, and they saw us. You should have seen the look on Geraldine's face. Bitch looked like she'd seen a ghost.

Hi guys, I said, as Mayumi and I approached them, hand in hand. Odd to see you guys here of all places, Reese said in a clipped accent. Hey sister, Mayumi said, looking at Geraldine, who smiled politely but said nothing. We wished them a good day, then went our way. What's their problem? Mayumi asked me. I looked at my lady, and put my arm around her. Lots of people got a problem with interracial dating when the male half of the pair is Black, I told Mayumi with sad patience.

Mayumi glared at me, her face flushed. They're in an interracial relationship just like us, she retorted. I shook my head. That doesn't mean they like you and I being together, I told her. Mayumi shook her head, refusing to believe me. When we got back to her place on campus, I sat her down on her living room couch and talked to her. I hated to do this, but I had to school her. Much of what I told her, I learned them from my parents. The world isn't fond of interracial dating or marriage, especially when there's a Black male involved. In North America, for centuries, it was perfectly okay for White men to avail themselves of Black women, Native women and all kinds of women. Men of color, whether Black or Native, were forbidden from dealing with White women. Many Black men and Native men lost their lives over dalliances with White women.

The same goes for South Africa, Mayumi said, a horrified look on her pretty face as realization dawned on her. She told me about the many interracial couples she saw in Johannesburg and Cape Town, and noted for the most part that they were White male/Indian female or White male/Black female. Even in post-Apartheid South Africa, non-Black women didn't deal much with Black men. Yet White guys could and did enjoy themselves with women of all colors. I've noticed White guys staring at me ever since we started going out, Mayumi said, shrugging.