On Doppelgangers and Smiling Because They Happen

Original Posting: August 2011

Today was my first day working with a group of Japanese students as part of my university's summer cultural exchange program (I believe I yammered on about that in the previous posting). Now, everyone who is non-Asian (and many Asians themselves) know the trope: All Asians look alike.

Anyone who has spent a significant amount of time with at least a very small portion – say, a group of students studying abroad at a particular university, like mine – of an Asian population, as I have, knows that this is a stereotype in its purest form. Generalization? Yes. Based upon an element of truth? Oh, yes.

I definitely don't subscribe to Political Correctness Gone Mad, but I do try not to stray into offensive territory when describing non-Caucasians. I am well aware that there's a generalization right there in what I just wrote, but, see, generalizations are nice sometimes. But I digress.

The point I intended to make is: Asians don't all look alike, but you can confuse two who look similar; you can do exactly the same for two Caucasians, two Africans, two Arabs, and whatever other ethnicities your culture recognizes.

Case in point: One of the students (although I believe she is actually functioning as one of the guides for the students) looks uncannily like my roommate from the Fall 2010 semester.

I don't recall off the top of my head if I've talked all that much here about Mami, but before I go on, I think you should know that we became very close by the time she had to go back to Japan. We were best friends, and we loved each other dearly. I was so, so terribly sad to see her go, and I've missed her ever since. I think about her a lot; whenever I hung out with my Japanese friends the spring semester, I would wait to here her chime in with something, or think, "Mami-chan would love this..."

I remember waking up on morning toward the end of the year (recall from my more recent posts that I was completely not in my right mind), and I saw Risa at her desk, I think doing homework, and I just saw her silhouette, and for a moment I thought she looked like Mami. I literally had to think to myself, "She is not Mami." And I felt so lonely.

She shows up in my dreams occasionally. We just hang out. It's usually those dreams that make me think about her, but sometimes I'll see something and just think of her. She's told me recently that she is making plans to visit during one of my breaks from school. I don't think she knows for sure yet, but I am definitely looking forward to it. It has been far, far too long!

So when I saw the group of students from the Mukogawa University in Japan for the first time, and then Rie-san was introduced, I balked. Right down to the hair; when she smiled, it was wrenching. Her style was even a bit similar to Mami's. I stole glances at her all day, trying to figure out if I was going crazy.

I know she's not Mami. If I get a chance to one-on-one with her, I'll have to remind myself of that, just like I had to do the same with Risa.

Rie is not Mami.

But I wish she could be.

It makes me feel very sad. That's the simplest way to put it. Makes me wonder why time couldn't move faster so I could get closer to when Mami would visit. Or makes me wish Mami was here instead of her, on some level.

But this day... To have so many students from Japan, with their endearing Japanese ways, was just... wonderful. It felt like home. It made me so extremely happy.

It was only on the way home on the bus that I started to feel sad. Because I started to remember Mami, of course. And also Megumi, and Honoka and Saki and Konomi and Masashi and Kotomi and Iku and Mai and Souichiro, and also the friends from Korea I made last semester, who I sadly wasn't able to spend so much time with – Sori, Sujin, Amy, Emily, Hyosuk, and others whose names I haven't the foggiest how to spell.

It's those faces from last year who made my freshman year special. It's Mami and Megumi and the others from that first semester who lit it up and made it memorable. I thought about them on the way home and it made me sad, even though it was the last thing I wanted to be, especially now that I'm thinking so much about my life back on campus for my sophomore year.

I think about it again now. Specifically how I look at this batch of students from Mukogawa and how I see my friends' faces among them. And I don't want to be sad. Everyone knows the saying, "Don't be sad because it ended; smile because it happened."

Sadness is an expression of regret, isn't it?

So that makes me wonder, what is there about my time with Mami-tachi that I regret? Nothing. Not a darn thing. I still miss all of them, certainly; I am allowed to, because I always will miss them and there's no reason to deny myself that freedom. But I don't have to cry about it. That wasn't our last good-bye. We still have Facebook to stay in contact, so it's not like we'll never hear from each other again.

If anything, as uncanny-valley-esque as it might feel to me, Rie's resemblance to Mami proves one thing: That Mami holds a special place in my heart. Everyone does. These students who I am just getting to know (along with their names and faces!) now, I'll have a special place in my heart for them, too, after they've passed out of my life for the time being.

We all make mistakes; we all carry regrets, but regrets can weigh us down like a disease. So isn't it only fair that we make an effort to have as few regrets as possible?

When I see Rie's smile tomorrow, I will remember Mami.

And I will smile, too.

♥Sarah