We've now been introduced to the two characters Kim and Thomas. A relationship between the two has been implied, while not fully established. We now examine Thomas' character in more depth, particularly his self proclaimed gift of having a cross cultural sixth sense.
Consider this as you read: does this story seem to be a criticism of or a celebration of anthropology?
A quietness came over Tom, a phenomenon that had happened only a very few times in his life. It was a sort of reverie that he couldn’t explain, an unfettering of the mind, a liberation of the soul. And it always preceded what Tom liked to think of as inspiration, a lucid vision of what he was meant to do in the coming moments. The first time that he recalled it he had been about seven or eight, sitting in the school cafeteria with a Chinese foreign exchange student, that sickening smell of tan noodles rising from his plate; another time had been waiting for the late bus home from school, and he had been offered a ride home by a Nigerian man. Tom liked to think of his forcing Chang Lee to pour ketchup on his noodles as another fall of the Berlin Wall; smaller yes, unpublicized as well, but to Chang Lee, equally as important; likewise, he’d understood the extreme danger of even exchanging glances with the Nigerian man that snowy afternoon, and his decision to report him to the crossing guard had been absolutely warranted. He knew Nigeria’s past, ripe with insurrection and violence; and anyway, how could he have known that his mother had arranged the ride? Tom had a “cultural sixth sense,” something that could not be taught, nor learned, but something that allowed him to merge seamlessly into any crowd, from any nation, at any time.
Walking purposefully to the computer, he googled ‘South Korean, supplanted, audacity’. Nodding knowingly at the 6,899,435 results, he clicked on ‘refine search’ and added ‘passive aggressive’. It took an unusual mind to understand the deep relationship between cultural anthropology and psychology, and Tom had understood it from day one- once again, he could only explain it as intuition.
The results were more than he’d hoped for. Smiling, he leaned back and scanned the list expertly. There were a few towns, generally rural, that produced an unusually audacious breed of South Koreans. It seemed that property regulations had been dissolved with the spread of communism, and in one particular village, all housing and privacy had become obsolete. Before long, neighbors would find friends and enemies alike sleeping on their floors and eating their food with not even a trace of shame. This same village was liberated from the communist regime by NATO forces in the late 90’s, and the entire population was transplanted to select areas of the world due to a tragic oil leak (which also rid the world of the already dying Silga Bird). With their unbending reverence for reputation along with their deep-seeded brazenness, this strange breed of Asians found themselves shunned by the capitalist and selfish masses, who were anything but supportive of the odd and unexpected Diasporas. Meager attempts at mental rehabilitation funded by certain international organizations had only left these ambiguous immigrants with an unshakeable sense of entitlement. Furthermore, Korean clan systems were highly topographical, and the surnames were strongly indicative of the micro-cosmic patria from whence they arrived. These facts meant two things: Tom could retrieve the most likely/ possible surnames of the cyber criminal in question, and he could locate his/her whereabouts. Voila.
Bingo. The three hundred or so inhabitants of Xian Cho had been sent via freightliner and then a shipped in a small fleet of Greyhounds to a small mountainous village in (none other than) his own native Wyoming. From there, it was assumed that the refugees had sought employment after realizing that they would not subsist off of the vegetable gardens sprouting on window sills, roofs, and in small back yards. Further, it had been primarily the male populace that had ventured out, leaving the women and children to tend to the peppers, tomatoes and squash- this only meant one thing- Tom’s good friend was a man.
Tom jotted down his progress in a trembling font:
“1) S. Korean, 2) from Xian Cho (look up derivatives of this name, possible attempts at Americanization- Johns? Johnson? John Joe?), 3) Male, (his projected height and skin tone given diet of squash, tomatoes, peppers, and noodles), 4) computer savvy, 5) relation to possible employment, w refugee visa”
Carefully folding up the list, Tom placed it next to his computer. It seemed as if it had been only moments, but he was surprised to see that it was already 5: 30- din din time! His stomach answered with a growl, and Tom raced down stairs to the smell of his favorite dish- mac and cheese.
Stay tuned for the next episode!
there isn't even words!
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