[fanfiction] chimugukuru
Fandom/Pairings: The Social Network; Mark/Eduardo
Rating: PG-13
Pre-Notes: It's Irei no Hi. I wrote a thing. (Translations are provided at the end.)
Disclaimer: Get out, Mark.
Summary: Eduardo asks what chimugukuru is, and his mother tells him that he will learn.
chimugukuru
When Eduardo is younger, it does not occur to him that there is anything unusual with his family. His mother makes him taco rice when he gets home from school, pronounces his names with syllables in just the wrong spots. She tells him he is uchinanchu and he should wear this with pride, then feeds him andagi. There is nothing strange about this at all, because Eduardo has not been informed it is strange. In Brazil, this is quite normal. Commonplace.
Then, he is seven and he moves to America.
----
It takes Chris and Dustin and Mark and anyone, really, a very long time to notice that Eduardo mumbles in not one, but two languages that fall awkwardly on their ears. Eduardo would be sad about this, but he has long since learned that languages one does not understand all sound the same if one is not paying attention. In fact, he is only found out because of Dustin's weird obsession with weird animated porn he insist on calling "hentai." It often involves tentacles, and Eduardo is vaguely creeped out by it.
"Wait," Dustin says one day, as Eduardo talks to his mother on the phone, "that wasn't Portuguese. That was Japanese."
Eduardo glances at Dustin, tilting his head in curiosity but not saying anything. In the space of this Kirkland dorm, Dustin could mean anything. He could mean that the hentai he downloaded was supposed to be in Portugese, for all Eduardo knows. Dustin points at him.
"You. You just said something in Japanese." Dustin seems vaguely betrayed by this, although Eduardo cannot fathom why. "I thought you only spoke Portuguese."
"Hai," Eduardo says, holding up a hand to stop Dustin from talking more. His mother tells him to remember that he needs to wish his cousin a happy birthday, and Eduardo makes a noise indicating he heard her. "Hai. Wakaru, wakaru. OK. T'chau, mama. Te amo."
Hanging up and closing his phone, Eduardo thinks about how to handle this. He avoids it whenever possible, because it is not something that he knows how to explain well or at all. Turning his phone over in his hands, Eduardo doesn't look at Dustin.
"I never said I only spoke Portuguese. I said I was from Brazil, and you assumed."
----
Where Eduardo's mother is all heart, his father is harsh, severe even, and it takes Eduardo a long time to understand that for all his faults his father truly loves his mother. They are very, very, different and both are reserved about affection but it sometimes leaks out. His father will close his hand over his mother's, or stand next to her and dry the dishes and everything becomes as clear as the sparkle of the simple, small diamond that glitters on his mother's finger. They fight, loudly and often, but Eduardo's mother tells him that fighting is a product of being married for so long. She says that the longer you know a person, the better you know them, the more crevices you find. When you are angry, she says, your words will find those crevices and push into them. Your words will crack someone's heart open.
Be careful with your words, Eduardo's mother is always telling him. They are worth much more than you know.
----
Actually, Mark notices first.
Eduardo does not know how, but he leaves Kirkland one night and the next day while he is digging through his bag for a pen, he finds a box of green tea. Not the crappy kind that Eduardo has gotten used to, the kind that is too fermented and does not sit right in the back of his throat, but the real kind. He stares at the box for a moment while his instructor drones on, and then tucks it back into his bag to deal with later. He also finds a pen.
When his lecture is over, Eduardo goes back to his dorm room and toes off his shoes as he shuts the door. It is automatic at this point, too many years of his mother yelling batchii, Eduardo! batchii! burning the habit of taking off his shoes when he enters a space into his brain. Fishing the box of green tea out of his bag, Eduardo sets it down on his desk and tosses his bag onto his bed. Sitting down, Eduardo inspects the box.
It is so familiar, the exact brand that his mother always kept in stock even though his father complained that it was expensive-especially in America. His mother had always said that tea is something where quality could not be sacrificed and Eduardo is inclined to agree. The coffeeshops have something they claim is green tea, but no matter how Eduardo brews it, he can't get it to taste right.
Technically, what he has in his hands is not quite green tea. Eduardo knows that, knows it's actually called genmaicha, but he wasn't aware that most people did. Opening the box, Eduardo lets the smell of home wash over him. There's a note written in the lid of the box, and Eduardo brings the box closer so he can read it.
I don't know if this is the right kind, but it seemed like a good guess.
The note is not signed, but Eduardo would recognize that handwriting anywhere and he wants to cry. There is homesickness and love mixing together in his head and it is overwhelming, too much. Closing the box of tea and setting it carefully on the shelf above his desk with his textbook, Eduardo breathes.
He puts his shoes back on and heads to Kirkland, words already waiting on the tip of his tongue: how did you know?
----
Eduardo parents both tell a similar story about how they met. His mother was a waitress at the restaurant where his father other held business lunches. She caught his eye, and he started coming by himself just to see her. When he asked her to dinner, she said yes with one condition: they would not be eating where she worked, because she would be picking. He obliged, which is how they ended up at the local obon eating takoyaki and andagi.
Sometimes Eduardo thinks he can see the shadows of a tender and smiling man capable of attending a festival in his father. Other times he thinks that his parents constructed the story purely for his benefit.
----
Chris seems the least surprised when he finds out about the parts of Eduardo that are hidden. This is not entirely surprising, given that Chris is a history major, but Eduardo is still relieved. He can fill in blanks, but he does not know how to wrap his tongue around the whole story.
"There's a sizable Japanese population in Brazil," Chris says. He is wrong, but Eduardo does not know how to navigate the difference between nihonjin and uchinanchu in any of his tongues. "It's not that surprising that Eduardo is at least a little Japanese."
Being called Japanese stings, somewhere deep in his chest. His mother's mother is from Ryukyu, not Japan. They are not the same in the slightest, but Eduardo does not know how to say that in Portuguese, let along English. It was something understood, something common, where Eduardo grew up. He does not have the words for it in any language, because he has never needed them.
Mark watches as Eduardo sighs, tries to release the wrongness. It does not quite go away, but it lessens. He misses the way Mark tilts his head, misses the way he turns to Chris.
"Okinawa." The syllables sound strange on Mark's tongue, and Eduardo's head snaps toward him. "Eduardo's family is from Okinawa."
"Okinawa is part of Japan," Chris says, like it is as simple as that.
"You shouldn't say that in the presence of an Okinawan," Eduardo laughs. He has found his tongue again, and he is grateful. "We don't really like being called that. We're our own people."
Eduardo does not say the Japanese lack chimugukuru, because that is a word Eduardo can't begin to translate. Chris looks at him curiously, and Eduardo spends the better part of an hour giving a crash course on Okinawan culture. Dustin makes him promise to make them taco rice, and Eduardo tells him that he will some day. Taco rice is about the only thing that Eduardo can make without courting potential disaster, so he does not think that much about the promise.
He thinks there will be time.
----
When Eduardo's father is around, his mother mainly speaks Portuguese. When Eduardo's father is not there, Eduardo's mother mainly speaks Japanese. He speaks a blend of the two, flicking between them without much thought, and it is not until he comes to America that he realizes this is not a gift.
American sounds harsh to his ears, devoid of Portuguese's sensuality and without the soft vowels of Japanese. He later learns that American is actually called English, and that English was a language expressly created to make fun of him. He does not get along with English, so he keeps to Portuguese and Japanese where he is able to. Harvard is a terrible place for that.
----
Mark creates thefacebook, and Eduardo is breathless with awe when it goes live. When Mark shows him his name on the masthead, he tells Mark you have no idea what that's gonna mean to my father and can hear what Mark is not saying when he says sure I do. He is saying do you like this? I did this for you and Eduardo wants to kiss him, wants to press him onto the tiny twin bed and answer him. Yes, yes, yes. There is nothing that Eduardo likes more, because Mark could do anything and Eduardo would think it is stunning, fabulous. Eduardo wants to let Mark fuck him, maybe tell him that his mother said he should be careful with his words and that he says I'm here for you because he is afraid to say I love you suki da te amo.
"Let's celebrate," Eduardo says instead. "I'm buying."
When Mark looks at him, expression calculating, Eduardo thinks that he is too much his mother's child. He thinks that maybe all the people with chimugukuru are destined to fall for people like Mark. People who need to be wrapped up in chimugukuru, softened around the edges. He thinks that if he tells his mother this she would agree, say that Eduardo should bring Mark to Miami so she can serve him tea.
His father would not be so happy, Eduardo thinks. He has never been happy with the way that Eduardo was never what he expected, became too much like his mother. Eduardo thinks he wanted a different son, but does his best to love Eduardo anyway. He is not the villain in Eduardo's story, regardless of what Mark thinks.
They go out drinking, and Eduardo tries not to kiss Mark.
He succeeds.
----
One day when he is very little, Eduardo's mother sits him down. She explains his heritage, tells him to be fiercely proud of it and never be ashamed of who he is. She tells him that he has chimugukuru, and that she will be proud of him no matter what.
Curiously, Eduardo asks what chimugukuru is, and his mother tells him that he will learn.
----
Sean Parker is an asshole and Eduardo hates everything about him.
Mark likes him, because Mark likes anyone who is willing to inflate his ego, and Eduardo wishes that he had never agreed to go out with Christy. He had been wishing so hard to not focus on Mark, to not give in and maybe ruin whatever they had, that it had seemed easy. Christy is the kind of girl his father would like him to date. Christy is smart, intelligent, and fun to be around.
Eduardo does not love her.
He tries, desperately so, but he does not love her and he thinks that Christy knows it. When they return to Harvard after meeting Sean Parker, Eduardo says he is sorry and breaks up with her. Christy kisses the corner of his mouth and tells him that she hopes he finds a girl he can love.
"Aren't you mad at me?"
"No," Christy says, shaking her head. She places her hand on his shoulder, and suddenly reminds him too much of his mother. "I can't be mad at you for ending things before they got messy. You have so much heart, Eduardo, but I'm not the right girl for it. It's okay"
There is a box of tea in Eduardo's bag a few days later, and Eduardo wonders if Mark knows how much he appreciates it. He says thank you, because his mother raised him to be polite, but Eduardo is not sure his immense gratitude translates. He figures that Mark understands, though, because . . . Well, why else would Mark continually tuck boxes of tea into his bag?
----
Before she dies, Eduardo asks his obaasan about chimugukuru. She takes his hand in hers when he asks and looks him in the eye for a long moment. He is almost afraid that she will not tell him or she will say something similar to what his mother said, but his obaasan smiles at him.
She tells him that chimugukuru is the spirit and soul of being uchinanchu, tells him that it is compaixão. Eduardo says that he is not sure he understands. His obaasan says he will understand better with time, that chimugukuru is natural to those who try to be the best people they can.
----
As the semester closes, there are a dozen internships that Eduardo could take, that Eduardo's father would like him to take, but there is also a box of tea sitting on his desk with for California written inside the lid. This is the closest that Mark will come to asking him to go with them to California, Eduardo knows, and he thinks that maybe he shouldn't be considering it at all.
Running his fingers over the words, Eduardo hears his mother telling him that he should do what makes him happy. That he should try to be the best person he can, always. Mark is unhappy with him because he has been pushing ads, but he still tucked the box of tea into Eduardo's bag. Still asked him to come to California.
Closing the box, Eduardo sets it on the corner of his desk. He puts his shoes on and walks to Kirkland, too many words crystallizing on his tongue. Once he is sitting on the edge of Mark's desk though, only one thing tumbles out of his mouth:
"I hope at least one of you knows how to cook. I only know how to make taco rice."
Mark shrugs. "We can always order pizza."
"You are not," Chris yells from another room, "eating pizza every goddamn day in California!"
"It won't be every day," Dustin yells, "because Eduardo is going to make us taco rice on Tuesdays!"
"Yes," Eduardo laughs. "I will make so much taco rice."
"Good," Mark says, and that's that.
----
For most of his life, Eduardo has not had to explain himself, the delicate balance he keeps between his heritage and fitting in. He thinks that most people do not understand, because they have not had to balance anything of the sort. People look at him, hear that he is from Brazil, and assume something about him. Eduardo finds it easier to pretend, to not open up and let them into the things that are most sacred to him. He pretends to be what they want him to be, instead of what he is.
Mark and Eduardo meet, and suddenly Eduardo knows what it is like to be yourself.
----
Eduardo calls his mother from the side of a pool in California, watching Dustin climb up onto the roof. He does not think this will end well, but he knows that Dustin will not listen to reasons when there is "cool" stuff to be done. When Eduardo's mom picks up, the first thing he says is ah! mama, matte ne? followed by Dustin, are you okay?! which only gets laughter and whooping in return. He decides that Dustin must be okay, even if their chimney is now not.
"Gomen, mama," Eduardo says. His mother tells him it's fine and asks him how he is.
I'm great, mama, Eduardo says. He tells her that he thinks he knows what chimugukuru is now, and she laughs and tells him she's proud. Mark comes over then, camcorder in hand, and sits down next to Eduardo. He says hi to Eduardo's mother and wait, patient, for Eduardo to finish. Eduardo does not talk long, mostly just wanting to let his mother know that they have settled into the California house, and Mark leans on Eduardo but does not speak.
"What does that word mean? Cheamoogookahroo," Mark says, once Eduardo's hung up. It's mangled and tales Eduardo a moment to place when Mark wraps his tongue around it. "You say it a lot."
"It means." Eduardo tries to think of how to put it in English, how to explain this concept he's been chasing after most of his life to Mark. "I think it means something different for everyone. For me, chimugukuru is having heart."
"Okay," Mark says. He gets up, fingers still curled around the camcorder. "Are you coming in? Dustin is going to order like eight pepperoni pizzas if you're not there to mitigate."
"In a second," Eduardo says. He grips his phone tighter, thinks of this thing that is between him and Mark. "Keep Dustin from ordering only pepperoni, okay?"
Instead of saying anything, Mark rolls his eyes and turns to go into the house. Eduardo watches his back, already turning slightly red, and thinks: this could work. They are a bunch of stupid kids with a crazy idea, but Eduardo truly, honestly thinks that what they have is solid. It does not matter what his father thinks for the first time in a long time, because Eduardo is happy, he has chimugukuru, and everything is going to be okay.
(And it is.)
----
Postit-notes: Chimugukuru is an uchinaguchi (Okinawan language) word literally meaning something along the lines of "compassion" (compaixão), but is probably better explained as "heart." It is an incredibly personal word that exemplifies Okinawan culture. Uchinanchu is the name of the people of the Ryukyu Islands.
Taco rice, andagi.
"Hai. Wakaru, wakaru. OK. T'chau, mama. Te amo." -> "Yes. I get it, I get it. OK. Bye, mama. I love you."
Batchii is a slang word that literally means "dirty." It's often yelled at children who are doing something bad, in this case leaving shoes on.
Genmaicha, obon, takoyaki.
Nihonjin means "Japanese," simplistically, as obaasan means "grandmother" here.
ah! mama, matte ne? / gomen, mama -> "ah! mama, wait a second ok?" / "sorry, mama."
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
Rating: PG-13
Pre-Notes: It's Irei no Hi. I wrote a thing. (Translations are provided at the end.)
Disclaimer: Get out, Mark.
Summary: Eduardo asks what chimugukuru is, and his mother tells him that he will learn.
chimugukuru
When Eduardo is younger, it does not occur to him that there is anything unusual with his family. His mother makes him taco rice when he gets home from school, pronounces his names with syllables in just the wrong spots. She tells him he is uchinanchu and he should wear this with pride, then feeds him andagi. There is nothing strange about this at all, because Eduardo has not been informed it is strange. In Brazil, this is quite normal. Commonplace.
Then, he is seven and he moves to America.
----
It takes Chris and Dustin and Mark and anyone, really, a very long time to notice that Eduardo mumbles in not one, but two languages that fall awkwardly on their ears. Eduardo would be sad about this, but he has long since learned that languages one does not understand all sound the same if one is not paying attention. In fact, he is only found out because of Dustin's weird obsession with weird animated porn he insist on calling "hentai." It often involves tentacles, and Eduardo is vaguely creeped out by it.
"Wait," Dustin says one day, as Eduardo talks to his mother on the phone, "that wasn't Portuguese. That was Japanese."
Eduardo glances at Dustin, tilting his head in curiosity but not saying anything. In the space of this Kirkland dorm, Dustin could mean anything. He could mean that the hentai he downloaded was supposed to be in Portugese, for all Eduardo knows. Dustin points at him.
"You. You just said something in Japanese." Dustin seems vaguely betrayed by this, although Eduardo cannot fathom why. "I thought you only spoke Portuguese."
"Hai," Eduardo says, holding up a hand to stop Dustin from talking more. His mother tells him to remember that he needs to wish his cousin a happy birthday, and Eduardo makes a noise indicating he heard her. "Hai. Wakaru, wakaru. OK. T'chau, mama. Te amo."
Hanging up and closing his phone, Eduardo thinks about how to handle this. He avoids it whenever possible, because it is not something that he knows how to explain well or at all. Turning his phone over in his hands, Eduardo doesn't look at Dustin.
"I never said I only spoke Portuguese. I said I was from Brazil, and you assumed."
----
Where Eduardo's mother is all heart, his father is harsh, severe even, and it takes Eduardo a long time to understand that for all his faults his father truly loves his mother. They are very, very, different and both are reserved about affection but it sometimes leaks out. His father will close his hand over his mother's, or stand next to her and dry the dishes and everything becomes as clear as the sparkle of the simple, small diamond that glitters on his mother's finger. They fight, loudly and often, but Eduardo's mother tells him that fighting is a product of being married for so long. She says that the longer you know a person, the better you know them, the more crevices you find. When you are angry, she says, your words will find those crevices and push into them. Your words will crack someone's heart open.
Be careful with your words, Eduardo's mother is always telling him. They are worth much more than you know.
----
Actually, Mark notices first.
Eduardo does not know how, but he leaves Kirkland one night and the next day while he is digging through his bag for a pen, he finds a box of green tea. Not the crappy kind that Eduardo has gotten used to, the kind that is too fermented and does not sit right in the back of his throat, but the real kind. He stares at the box for a moment while his instructor drones on, and then tucks it back into his bag to deal with later. He also finds a pen.
When his lecture is over, Eduardo goes back to his dorm room and toes off his shoes as he shuts the door. It is automatic at this point, too many years of his mother yelling batchii, Eduardo! batchii! burning the habit of taking off his shoes when he enters a space into his brain. Fishing the box of green tea out of his bag, Eduardo sets it down on his desk and tosses his bag onto his bed. Sitting down, Eduardo inspects the box.
It is so familiar, the exact brand that his mother always kept in stock even though his father complained that it was expensive-especially in America. His mother had always said that tea is something where quality could not be sacrificed and Eduardo is inclined to agree. The coffeeshops have something they claim is green tea, but no matter how Eduardo brews it, he can't get it to taste right.
Technically, what he has in his hands is not quite green tea. Eduardo knows that, knows it's actually called genmaicha, but he wasn't aware that most people did. Opening the box, Eduardo lets the smell of home wash over him. There's a note written in the lid of the box, and Eduardo brings the box closer so he can read it.
I don't know if this is the right kind, but it seemed like a good guess.
The note is not signed, but Eduardo would recognize that handwriting anywhere and he wants to cry. There is homesickness and love mixing together in his head and it is overwhelming, too much. Closing the box of tea and setting it carefully on the shelf above his desk with his textbook, Eduardo breathes.
He puts his shoes back on and heads to Kirkland, words already waiting on the tip of his tongue: how did you know?
----
Eduardo parents both tell a similar story about how they met. His mother was a waitress at the restaurant where his father other held business lunches. She caught his eye, and he started coming by himself just to see her. When he asked her to dinner, she said yes with one condition: they would not be eating where she worked, because she would be picking. He obliged, which is how they ended up at the local obon eating takoyaki and andagi.
Sometimes Eduardo thinks he can see the shadows of a tender and smiling man capable of attending a festival in his father. Other times he thinks that his parents constructed the story purely for his benefit.
----
Chris seems the least surprised when he finds out about the parts of Eduardo that are hidden. This is not entirely surprising, given that Chris is a history major, but Eduardo is still relieved. He can fill in blanks, but he does not know how to wrap his tongue around the whole story.
"There's a sizable Japanese population in Brazil," Chris says. He is wrong, but Eduardo does not know how to navigate the difference between nihonjin and uchinanchu in any of his tongues. "It's not that surprising that Eduardo is at least a little Japanese."
Being called Japanese stings, somewhere deep in his chest. His mother's mother is from Ryukyu, not Japan. They are not the same in the slightest, but Eduardo does not know how to say that in Portuguese, let along English. It was something understood, something common, where Eduardo grew up. He does not have the words for it in any language, because he has never needed them.
Mark watches as Eduardo sighs, tries to release the wrongness. It does not quite go away, but it lessens. He misses the way Mark tilts his head, misses the way he turns to Chris.
"Okinawa." The syllables sound strange on Mark's tongue, and Eduardo's head snaps toward him. "Eduardo's family is from Okinawa."
"Okinawa is part of Japan," Chris says, like it is as simple as that.
"You shouldn't say that in the presence of an Okinawan," Eduardo laughs. He has found his tongue again, and he is grateful. "We don't really like being called that. We're our own people."
Eduardo does not say the Japanese lack chimugukuru, because that is a word Eduardo can't begin to translate. Chris looks at him curiously, and Eduardo spends the better part of an hour giving a crash course on Okinawan culture. Dustin makes him promise to make them taco rice, and Eduardo tells him that he will some day. Taco rice is about the only thing that Eduardo can make without courting potential disaster, so he does not think that much about the promise.
He thinks there will be time.
----
When Eduardo's father is around, his mother mainly speaks Portuguese. When Eduardo's father is not there, Eduardo's mother mainly speaks Japanese. He speaks a blend of the two, flicking between them without much thought, and it is not until he comes to America that he realizes this is not a gift.
American sounds harsh to his ears, devoid of Portuguese's sensuality and without the soft vowels of Japanese. He later learns that American is actually called English, and that English was a language expressly created to make fun of him. He does not get along with English, so he keeps to Portuguese and Japanese where he is able to. Harvard is a terrible place for that.
----
Mark creates thefacebook, and Eduardo is breathless with awe when it goes live. When Mark shows him his name on the masthead, he tells Mark you have no idea what that's gonna mean to my father and can hear what Mark is not saying when he says sure I do. He is saying do you like this? I did this for you and Eduardo wants to kiss him, wants to press him onto the tiny twin bed and answer him. Yes, yes, yes. There is nothing that Eduardo likes more, because Mark could do anything and Eduardo would think it is stunning, fabulous. Eduardo wants to let Mark fuck him, maybe tell him that his mother said he should be careful with his words and that he says I'm here for you because he is afraid to say I love you suki da te amo.
"Let's celebrate," Eduardo says instead. "I'm buying."
When Mark looks at him, expression calculating, Eduardo thinks that he is too much his mother's child. He thinks that maybe all the people with chimugukuru are destined to fall for people like Mark. People who need to be wrapped up in chimugukuru, softened around the edges. He thinks that if he tells his mother this she would agree, say that Eduardo should bring Mark to Miami so she can serve him tea.
His father would not be so happy, Eduardo thinks. He has never been happy with the way that Eduardo was never what he expected, became too much like his mother. Eduardo thinks he wanted a different son, but does his best to love Eduardo anyway. He is not the villain in Eduardo's story, regardless of what Mark thinks.
They go out drinking, and Eduardo tries not to kiss Mark.
He succeeds.
----
One day when he is very little, Eduardo's mother sits him down. She explains his heritage, tells him to be fiercely proud of it and never be ashamed of who he is. She tells him that he has chimugukuru, and that she will be proud of him no matter what.
Curiously, Eduardo asks what chimugukuru is, and his mother tells him that he will learn.
----
Sean Parker is an asshole and Eduardo hates everything about him.
Mark likes him, because Mark likes anyone who is willing to inflate his ego, and Eduardo wishes that he had never agreed to go out with Christy. He had been wishing so hard to not focus on Mark, to not give in and maybe ruin whatever they had, that it had seemed easy. Christy is the kind of girl his father would like him to date. Christy is smart, intelligent, and fun to be around.
Eduardo does not love her.
He tries, desperately so, but he does not love her and he thinks that Christy knows it. When they return to Harvard after meeting Sean Parker, Eduardo says he is sorry and breaks up with her. Christy kisses the corner of his mouth and tells him that she hopes he finds a girl he can love.
"Aren't you mad at me?"
"No," Christy says, shaking her head. She places her hand on his shoulder, and suddenly reminds him too much of his mother. "I can't be mad at you for ending things before they got messy. You have so much heart, Eduardo, but I'm not the right girl for it. It's okay"
There is a box of tea in Eduardo's bag a few days later, and Eduardo wonders if Mark knows how much he appreciates it. He says thank you, because his mother raised him to be polite, but Eduardo is not sure his immense gratitude translates. He figures that Mark understands, though, because . . . Well, why else would Mark continually tuck boxes of tea into his bag?
----
Before she dies, Eduardo asks his obaasan about chimugukuru. She takes his hand in hers when he asks and looks him in the eye for a long moment. He is almost afraid that she will not tell him or she will say something similar to what his mother said, but his obaasan smiles at him.
She tells him that chimugukuru is the spirit and soul of being uchinanchu, tells him that it is compaixão. Eduardo says that he is not sure he understands. His obaasan says he will understand better with time, that chimugukuru is natural to those who try to be the best people they can.
----
As the semester closes, there are a dozen internships that Eduardo could take, that Eduardo's father would like him to take, but there is also a box of tea sitting on his desk with for California written inside the lid. This is the closest that Mark will come to asking him to go with them to California, Eduardo knows, and he thinks that maybe he shouldn't be considering it at all.
Running his fingers over the words, Eduardo hears his mother telling him that he should do what makes him happy. That he should try to be the best person he can, always. Mark is unhappy with him because he has been pushing ads, but he still tucked the box of tea into Eduardo's bag. Still asked him to come to California.
Closing the box, Eduardo sets it on the corner of his desk. He puts his shoes on and walks to Kirkland, too many words crystallizing on his tongue. Once he is sitting on the edge of Mark's desk though, only one thing tumbles out of his mouth:
"I hope at least one of you knows how to cook. I only know how to make taco rice."
Mark shrugs. "We can always order pizza."
"You are not," Chris yells from another room, "eating pizza every goddamn day in California!"
"It won't be every day," Dustin yells, "because Eduardo is going to make us taco rice on Tuesdays!"
"Yes," Eduardo laughs. "I will make so much taco rice."
"Good," Mark says, and that's that.
----
For most of his life, Eduardo has not had to explain himself, the delicate balance he keeps between his heritage and fitting in. He thinks that most people do not understand, because they have not had to balance anything of the sort. People look at him, hear that he is from Brazil, and assume something about him. Eduardo finds it easier to pretend, to not open up and let them into the things that are most sacred to him. He pretends to be what they want him to be, instead of what he is.
Mark and Eduardo meet, and suddenly Eduardo knows what it is like to be yourself.
----
Eduardo calls his mother from the side of a pool in California, watching Dustin climb up onto the roof. He does not think this will end well, but he knows that Dustin will not listen to reasons when there is "cool" stuff to be done. When Eduardo's mom picks up, the first thing he says is ah! mama, matte ne? followed by Dustin, are you okay?! which only gets laughter and whooping in return. He decides that Dustin must be okay, even if their chimney is now not.
"Gomen, mama," Eduardo says. His mother tells him it's fine and asks him how he is.
I'm great, mama, Eduardo says. He tells her that he thinks he knows what chimugukuru is now, and she laughs and tells him she's proud. Mark comes over then, camcorder in hand, and sits down next to Eduardo. He says hi to Eduardo's mother and wait, patient, for Eduardo to finish. Eduardo does not talk long, mostly just wanting to let his mother know that they have settled into the California house, and Mark leans on Eduardo but does not speak.
"What does that word mean? Cheamoogookahroo," Mark says, once Eduardo's hung up. It's mangled and tales Eduardo a moment to place when Mark wraps his tongue around it. "You say it a lot."
"It means." Eduardo tries to think of how to put it in English, how to explain this concept he's been chasing after most of his life to Mark. "I think it means something different for everyone. For me, chimugukuru is having heart."
"Okay," Mark says. He gets up, fingers still curled around the camcorder. "Are you coming in? Dustin is going to order like eight pepperoni pizzas if you're not there to mitigate."
"In a second," Eduardo says. He grips his phone tighter, thinks of this thing that is between him and Mark. "Keep Dustin from ordering only pepperoni, okay?"
Instead of saying anything, Mark rolls his eyes and turns to go into the house. Eduardo watches his back, already turning slightly red, and thinks: this could work. They are a bunch of stupid kids with a crazy idea, but Eduardo truly, honestly thinks that what they have is solid. It does not matter what his father thinks for the first time in a long time, because Eduardo is happy, he has chimugukuru, and everything is going to be okay.
(And it is.)
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Postit-notes: Chimugukuru is an uchinaguchi (Okinawan language) word literally meaning something along the lines of "compassion" (compaixão), but is probably better explained as "heart." It is an incredibly personal word that exemplifies Okinawan culture. Uchinanchu is the name of the people of the Ryukyu Islands.
Taco rice, andagi.
"Hai. Wakaru, wakaru. OK. T'chau, mama. Te amo." -> "Yes. I get it, I get it. OK. Bye, mama. I love you."
Batchii is a slang word that literally means "dirty." It's often yelled at children who are doing something bad, in this case leaving shoes on.
Genmaicha, obon, takoyaki.
Nihonjin means "Japanese," simplistically, as obaasan means "grandmother" here.
ah! mama, matte ne? / gomen, mama -> "ah! mama, wait a second ok?" / "sorry, mama."
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