On our way back from Infoweapons (and on the prowl for non-fried
places to eat), Paolo and I spotted a brightly-lit cafe with Japanese
characters sprayed on its windows. We stood there for a moment,
deciphering the inscription: ÃƒÂ¥Ã‚Â–Ã‚Â«ÃƒÂ¨Ã‚ÂŒÃ‚Â¶ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â¨ÃƒÂ¨Ã‚Â»Ã‚Â½ÃƒÂ©Ã‚Â£Ã‚ÂŸ. Tea house and snacks. Coffee
and snacks. Something like that.
Then we saw the bookshelves overflowing with manga.
We went in and stared at the manga collection for a moment. I amused
myself by trying to translate the sign posted above the bookshelf. The
English caption mentioned Japanese people who want to converse with
Cebuanos. Being neither Japanese nor Cebuano, I wondered if they’d let
me come and practice Japanese anyway. A look at the clientele—old
Japanese businessmen, pretty Filipinas—and at the high prices posted,
and Paolo and I looked at each other and laughed. It might be like one
of those snack bars I saw in Shinjuku…
Hmm. Maybe we can have a cup of hot chocolate / coffee and read as
much as we want. Maybe Wednesday. Hehehe…
ÃƒÂ§Ã‚Â§Ã‚ÂÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â¯ÃƒÂ¥Ã‚Â¦Ã‚Â¹ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â«ÃƒÂ¦Ã‚Â–Ã‚Â°ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â—ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â„ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚Â³ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â³ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â”ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â¥ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â¼ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚Â¿ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂƒÃ‚Â¼ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚Â’ÃƒÂ¤Ã‚Â½Ã‚Â¿ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚ÂÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â›ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â¦ÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â‚Ã‚Â„ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚Â£ÃƒÂ£Ã‚ÂÃ‚ÂŸÃƒÂ£Ã‚Â€Ã‚Â‚ I let my sister use my new computer.