De-Webbed

As much as the old PC in this room has been driving me nuts –I mean, PII, people!– I’m very aware of my soon to be PC-less state. I’m moving out on Sunday and though my new room is cooler, warmer, more central and modern, it doesn’t come with a PC. Internet, yes, just to twist the knife a little. And I was this close to bringing my web book but didn’t, because I already had so much to bring and there was a PC in my room anyway…you know how it is.

I’m going to miss being a webbed creature.

Ms. Nosey

Spending a lot of time at home, trying to write, naturally gives rise to all sorts of questions about the neighbours.

You’ve heard about Kanno san already, of course. But what about the family right across the road from me? Hip 40-something mum and two late-teens-to-early-twenties kids, that much is evident. And the other man who lives there, obviously no longer young but black hair still (dyed?), often seen dressed in tight jeans and bomber jacket, transportation means a foldable bike or small black Toyota and, not sure from where I’m looking but I think so, sporting an earring? Is he the father? The daughter’s hubbie? The mother’s toyboy..?

And what about the old man in the house next door, who shuffles into the garden at regular intervals to stand in one corner for a few minutes, looking down? Does he really pee in his own front yard, or is there another explanation? Does his wife know and, if so, what are her thoughts?

I could go on and on like this…

Kanno San

was my neighbour. At least, I assume that was his name. We never spoke but there’s a wooden plaque shaped like a slice of tree on his door with that name on it. We only met face to face once, on the day I arrived. I was leaving my apartment to get some dinner and he just got home. When he saw me he turned his back and shrank a few inches as if to protect himself, and quickly went inside. I was still mid-bow, but didn’t hold it against him.

Springy, wiry silver hair and a green army jacket, that’s what I remember. His looks and attitude combined easily won him a place in that category of people that is avoided on the bus. Henna hito, strange people. Though he drove a squeaky clean, red boxy car that he parked on the driveway most evenings. He usually got home late and I wondered what he did. Could easily be a writer, I often thought. Bunch of antisocial misfits that we are…

I heard him come home in the middle of the night last night, though the rustling of plastic bags seemed to go on for an awfully long time. I’m probably dreaming, I thought, or time has become liquid, as it does when you’re asleep. It even sounded as if he was wiping the hallway floor. That does it, I thought. Definitely a dream.

Suddenly the thought hit me that he was moving out. At 3.30 in the morning, without the usual check-out pomp and circumstance. I heard the four doors of his car shut one after the other, and him driving off. Intrigued, I got up to take a look in the hallway. His name plaque was still there, as was the empty mini can of beer that’s been sitting next to his door for the past month. I almost tried the door handle to check if it was unlocked. But, honestly, I was still half asleep and the whole scene felt a little like a scary movie. Suddenly he would be there, in the room, staring at me…So I didn’t, went back inside and back to sleep. But I wonder if he really left, and where he’s gone.

The Good, The Bad, And The Dorky

It’s weird how a person can love Japan. It actually is, when you think about it. To be blunt, Japan is ugly and the Japanese are dorks. Let me elaborate, before you throw shoes and rotten tomatoes…

The buildings are obviously post-war, and built in a time when aesthetics was the last thing on people’s minds. There are electricity cables everywhere you look, small small streets and houses stuffed to the brim with knick-knacks and flower pots…and even in the most scenic spots you are confronted with blaring microphones selling stuff or asking you to do stuff, for example to “enjoy your shopping on this beautiful day in Kyoto.” It’s very kind, really, but those tinny, sugary doll’s voices do get on your nerves.

As for the people, I mentioned some of the fashion before, didn’t I? There’s that, the things they wear on purpose, but there’s also the fact that they don’t care how something looks as long as it’s practical. I guess you all know we wear sun hats and carry parasols, but have you seen those sun visors that completely cover a person’s face? And I do mean completely. Picture a welder at work and you get the idea. There are thermoses and water flasks worn across one shoulder, even by grown men. There’s the kindergarten uniform that makes you think we’re in an 80s time warp…the list goes on and on.

Even so, sometimes I think there really are no people cooler than the Japanese on this planet. I admire their constant optimism (real or forced) and smiles (ditto). And I like the way of life they’ve created for themselves. Oh and, when they do dress well, they beat the rest of the world hands down.

This morning I walked to that nearby shrine again. I like going there because it’s quiet and, anyway, it’s a nice walk. I sat for a while in what’s become my usual spot, on a tree root next to a little stream. And thought that this is typically Japanese as well: they don’t need much to be content. The stream is about one metre wide, there’s a tiny little bridge, some sakura, ginko trees and maples. It really isn’t much, especially viewed in the larger context of buses and cars and noise and yes, those electricity cables that so offend my European eyes (so to speak) only some metres away. But it is, I guess, more realistic. Life can’t be beautiful everywhere you look, but there’s plenty of beauty to go around if you keep your eyes open…

This time around it’s taken me a little longer to look past the ugly and the dorky, and to see the good. But lately I’ve just really fallen in love with Japan all over again.

I’ll end with a tangent, something that crosses my mind at least once a day. It’s a miracle Japanese people come back in one piece when they go abroad. They are so used to safety. Again, it’s the society they’ve created and I think it’s great. But when they go to Brussels or Barcelona for example, don’t thieves just skin them alive? Bags casually dangle from a hand or arm, or are simply left on a chair or train seat while the owner walks off to admire the view. Wallets are opened in public spaces and money waved around as if everyone are friendly little elves. Well, maybe they are…

And at traffic lights, pedestrians wait patiently, even if the street is about a metre wide and there are no cars to be seen for a mile. I crossed one such street the other day, red light and a car approaching but really, I had so much time I could have squatted down and done a few sit-ups without getting hit. The woman behind the wheel though, a mid-thirties mum I’d say, honked the horn (only reserved for special occasions here) and flapped her hand across her bosom as if to say, you just took ten years off my life, Missy! Honestly, I keep wondering how they survive abroad…

And just to let you know, I finally discovered the funky side of Kyoto. I was beginning to despair, honestly. As of this week, I have a favourite hangout…More to come, since it looks as if I’ve already talked both your ears off.

Nurse Betty

I’m at home, nursing a cold. Had to happen, it’s hot and cold and then hot again, with air conditioned trains and buses and malls and restaurants. Shou ga nai, as they say. Can’t be helped. This has become my catch phrase…

So. I did some shopping for the next few days as we’re expecting a typhoon, more than my little fridge could accommodate, so half of the veg I bought is outside in a plastic bag. Shou ga nai (see? how useful), we’ll see how it goes.

I spent the weekend in Osaka, which convinced me to stop dragging my feet and give my one month’s notice. Kyoto’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but kind of boring. And so are the people, sorry to my Kyoto audience (all zero of them, hah!). Osaka energy, on the other hand, is just really something else. Cooler than Tokyo even, if you ask me (of course this is the eternal argument between Tokyoites and Kansai people, we both think our neck of the woods is the coolest and there’s no way we’ll ever agree). The people are loud for Japan standards but just fine for me, weird in terms of dress sense and sense of humour, really friendly and eager to laugh. Even a trip to a department store has the potential of becoming an ‘experience’. A friend and I got a make over at a Shu Uemura counter, where we giggled away with the make up artist, and then decided to try out the massage chairs in the electrical appliance centre. We were stretched out in a chair each, being poked and prodded while the sales assistant explained all the features to us, knowing full well we weren’t interested in the least in buying one. So he just decided to play along and entertain us. His sales pitch was hilarious…

An old man walked past and bumped into me on purpose, and I was all apology of course, even though I was the one who had been standing still. Then I realised he just wanted a chat, he thought I was very tall and wanted his picture taken with me. He didn’t ask, mind you, he just shoved his camera into the hands of our nice sales assistant and put his arm around me. Say cheese, he instructed me. Well, ok then…

This is what I mean, Osaka is fun. And don’t even get me started on the food…or do, in fact. I ate fugu (the poison fish, you know) in a killer restaurant (hah! I just got the pun on that, in rereading…), had takoyaki for dessert (‘octopus balls’, though they’re neither a dessert or actual balls, not to worry), and went for drinks in a funky bar afterwards. I was reminded of my mum’s joke: we should all become alcoholics, life is so much more fun that way. Hmm, you really have to wonder…

So I’ll be in Kyoto until the end of the month, which suits me ok. Like I said, it is beautiful here, and I can hardly wait for the coloured leaves. I visited yet another temple yesterday (I want to catch some of the ones I missed on my previous trip), during weekends I tour this area a bit. And when I’m home on days like this one, I try to catch up on some work and emails, which isn’t going all that well since my writing cap is refusing to stay put, but shou ga nai…It’s all good, really. Life’s just rolling along as usual.