And For Desert, Some Sap

Sugary sweet, definitely. But when in Japan…
I heard these again recently and love them both:

Remember this one? Back To The Future is still a classic in these parts…

Haaa, what can you say..?

The End Of The World

I have to cross a big intersection on my way to the supermarket from this room, and yesterday there was a cop standing in the middle, directing traffic. Hmm, I thought as I approached. Another official at the crossing bowed deeply and apologetically and, with a bright smile plastered to his face, explained to everyone that there was a special convoy passing of some sort (he was quite vague about it) and we were asked to wait. We had to stand just so, not too close, but not too far so he could keep an eye on us. He ran back and forth, explaining and asking people to move an inch this way or that. The cop in the middle was running back and forth, visibly flustered, yelling at people on scooters to WAIT! instead of trying to make a quick dash for it. More officials standing in the flower pots, hanging onto the telephone pole to get a better look…

People adopted their vacant, public transport look –I wouldn’t have been surprised if any of them decided to grab a quick nap — but the whole scene was unbearably funny to me. The official standing close to me shot me a suspicious look, I guess grinning was also out of the question. Showing my emotions is definitely something that sets me apart here. I just can’t keep a straight face, never could…

The convoy passed soon after that, more cops on bikes and black cars with tinted windows filled with businessy types in suits, a police van and something that looked a lot like prisoners transportation…though I doubt that somehow. And then my favourite part: everyone seemed to know exactly when it was ok to start moving again, even before the cop blew his whistle. One moment we were all standing still, the next the world came to life again and we started to cross just before the crossing signal turned to green and the beep-beep-beep for the blind people could be heard. I don’t know how to put it exactly, but that was just so typically Japanese. So used to following rules and staying in line, or something, that it has become intuitive…

It probably doesn’t come across well in writing, but it struck me. I have less than a month to go here now, which is long or short depending on how you look at it. And I’ve spent enough time both to love this place again and to see its faults and difficulties, were I to live here full-time. It’s a strange place and quite a hard place to spend your life, unless you’re willing to be brain-washed. Even if you’re willing to be brain-washed. I’m reminded of Murakami Haruki’s ‘End of the world’: The older you get, the harder to let go of your shadow. It would probably be hard for me to fit into this mindset now, having spent most of my life abroad. But I love it here, really. And this autumn has been my best in a long time.

Heta Na Kawaii Ko

I am incredibly clumsy lately for whatever reason and, among my friends here, I’m steadily getting a reputation as a clutz. A cute clutz, they assure me, but a clutz nonetheless. I’m the one who trips over her own feet and takes half of the cosmetics display down with her in a convenience store, the one who opens the washer to find she left a tissue in a pocket, now ripped into a thousand pieces covering everything, the one who burns the food…Just now I flushed the toilet and the flush fell off, entirely on its own –honestly! (Luckily I managed to fix it with a pair of chopsticks, I was already wondering what to say to the estate agent).

I’m usually really elegant and handy, I keep protesting. To which they smile and say, you’re very cute…

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…