Just how do we black women living in Japan keep our beautiful, curly and unique hair looking supa dupa fly in a country where everyone else has not only different hair, but hair that is the exact opposite to ours?
I’ve accidentally turned up the heat on this whole living in a foreign country experiment, and the chemicals in the beaker are starting to bubble.
Fish with an inexplicable jonesing for dead human flesh will eat it all off of your feet if you give them a chance…which I did.
I’m all moved in to my own apartment here in Tokyo and I’m pretty pleased with myself, I have to say.
In Japan, not once has a child run screaming or starting crying at the sight of my blackness. Not until yesterday that is.