I remember writing about autumn-blooming flowers. Now I'm seeing the late-late-autumn flowers, the winter flowers. The tsubaki and the other brilliant fuchsia and white flowers that I cannot name. And the weather is icy-cool, and windy, and the palm trees blow and rattle. And it snowed for the first time this winter yesterday; random, splattery gobbets of snow that didn't stick and didn't stay... I was so dazed with fatigue that I hardly noticed them. I regret that now. I should have at least tried to catch one on my tongue.
We walked through the snow as we were leaving the bowling alley. Alex, Melissa, Jenna and I had two games in the bustling Dia Lanes that is across the street from my apartment. I finally managed to break 90; my final score was 110... hooray for me! My bedroom (actually, my only room) faces the plain white wall of the bowling alley, and at night it sounds like thunder; once I got used to the sound, it became oddly comforting. On the other side of the apartment building, there are train tracks. I am blanketed by sound from all sides, all hours of the day. I woke up at 5am a couple of weeks ago, and in the stillness, I could hear my left neighbor singing (which he always does) and my right neighbor rustling paper. Yes, rustling paper. On the other side of the wall by my head.
My apartment has seemed more and more like a sad little squirrel's nest as time has gone by. I used to think that I wanted to live in a van and drive across the continent of North America. Maybe I still do. But the live in a van part has lost some of its appeal. Maybe the right van would be bigger than my apartment, though. And when I stepped out of the van, the scenery would be different every time. Not just the quick and narrow street that separates me from the white wall of the bowling alley. And I bet you that a van would have more than one range in the kitchenette.
I said I was dazed and fatigued yesterday; with good reason. I mistakenly believed that with most of my co-workers out of the country for vacation, I would revel in the lull and do things like vacuum and organize and write letters and shop for delayed Christmas gifts. I would hermit myself away and read the Dhammapada again. I would draw and paint. I would go to bed early and rise early. I would live out all of my best intentions, get a good start on my New Year's resolutions.
Ha!
Reality-check. I seem to be an inherently social animal. I love my time alone, but I am easily swayed and distracted by a phone-call or text message promising a good time. I worked the last two shifts after Christmas and before this holiday like a robot; I used what little energy I had to try and appear alert and eager for my students. After my shift on the 27th ended, Jenna, Melissa and I caught a brief second wind, borne of the promise of a full week off. No Nova. No explaining what "what's new" means to lower-level students every forty minutes. No obsessive upper-level students wanting detailed explanations of nonsensical English idioms. "'It's a piece of cake'? But how can that mean 'it's easy'? What about cake is easy? And 'The cat has my tongue?' Why? What if I have the cat's tongue? Is it the same?" (If you have a 'cat's tongue' in Japan, it means that you can't handle really hot food. I know better than to ask for an explanation.)
I digress. We went for a drink in a little cafe-bar that is dark and sparse but comfortable, and mural led in a decidedly Rap-1992 style. We went home. I went to bed early. A good beginning, or so I thought. The next day broke clear and bright, and my good intentions went out the window with a text-message from Satoshi; or did I send the first one? Anyway, we had a fabulous afternoon of coffee and yammering about everything in all directions and window shopping. I sank a bundle on a beautiful watch; an early birthday-gift to myself. It's one of those ones that never needs to be wound as long as you are wearing it; perpetual motion. It's gold with a turquoise face. I love it. Satoshi tried on an alligator-strapped watch with an enormous face that had a price tag equal to that of a new car; my stomach spun at the sight of it. I can't imagine owning something that entails such a high degree of responsibility. But mi-e needs are big in Japan. Mi-e (as I understand it) is that it's the look of a thing (or a person) that is most important. So young women will often go hungry for the sake of a designer handbag, identical to every other designer handbag of every other woman that works in her office.
Further digression. I bought my brother a fuzzy frog-suit for Christmas (you'll love it, dude) and Satoshi and I rounded off our day in the Puri-Kura (print club) booths, getting ridiculous stickers made with me peeking out of a toilet and stars exploding out of our heads. Standard fare. I made my way home, fully expecting to vacuum and hermit and read and paint, when I got a message from my old friend Shin, aka Shrine Boy, whom I had not seen for 8 months. Did I have time? Could I meet him for his last party of 2006? I met him at 'our' shrine and we biked many chilly blocks to his apartment; which was astoundingly smaller than mine. When I saw it, I wasn't surprised that the 'party' was only going to be him and me. He's a sweetheart, a little brother of a guy, only 20 years old and impossibly good-natured and full of idealism. We drank beer and ate pizza and watched Japanese comedy shows. I tried to explain the lyrics of a James Blunt song to him; he also loves the Backstreet Boys and Daniel Powter. He was drunk after one can of beer. I decided to go as he was rubbing his eyes and yawning like a three-year old; he biked me to a point where I recognized my surroundings. As I thanked him for the pizza and took my leave, my phone rang. Another friend. Where was I? Could I come out for a drink? Like, now?
Long story short, I went to sleep at about 6:30 am. I woke up at 8am, long enough to text message an apology and a cancellation to my private student. Again at 9 am to take my mom's phone call. Again at noon to get up, and go bowling. After bowling, after glancing nonchalantly at the falling snow, I announced that I was going home for a nap.
I woke up 17 hours later. That brings us to today. Today I made a list, and stuck to it, sort of. Maybe my hermity resolutions are a little too strict, after all. I better ought to stick with my friend's father's favorite saying: "Everything in moderation, including moderation".
Happy New Year.
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Christmas eve saw me scrambling to pack up my bags and bike the two-ish blocks to the Boobie Palace. Pancake mix? Check. Gifts? Check. Pajamas? Check. Weighted down, I was lucky that I only fell over once, and managed not to break the bottles of wine and champagne. When I arrived, I was happy to find the place decorated with an array of sparkly garland and a mini tree (about 12 inches high, but a tree is a tree). Joanna and Kat ducked out to get some snacks and some more wine, and Melissa and I chatted and I checked my email. Christmas eve commenced with their return; wine and chocolate consumption, chit-chat and The Scissor Sisters (I regretted not bringing over my two Christmas cd's). We waited until midnight, and then celebrated with a group hug and the opening of some of our gifts. Melissa delighted the three of us by giving each of us a gorgeous pot of flowers; red for Kat, pink for Joanna and white for me. As I was sleeping on the couch, I had the final word on bed-time; I told everyone to get to sleep, otherwise Santa wouldn't come.
I played Santa, and after everyone awoke and emerged, the stocking were opened; a bottle of real maple syrup was included for each girl. I cooked pancakes and eggs (and bacon for the two of us non-vegetarians) and we drank pink champagne mimosas and toasted the bright sunny Christmas morning before scooting off to work.
Work was weird; the teachers were unhappy and incredulous that the students could sign up and arrive to lessons as though this was just any other day. I had expected it though, and so brought a little photo album to work with me, and I began every lesson with it: look, this is my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, my aunts, uncles, cousins. This is Aldergrove in the winter. This is the Santa Claus doll that my brother and I have had our picture taken with for twenty-six years running. This is our Christmas tree. My family has Scottish heritage, so in this picture, my brother and dad are wearing kilts. Sharing my Christmas traditions with the students made the lessons bearable; they appreciated where I was coming from, and I felt like I had given them a different perspective on the holiday.
After work I joined forces with Travis and Neil; we hit the liquor store where I bought the ingredients for poor-man's champagne (apricot brandy and ginger ale; my mom's family Christmas cocktail). The man working at the checkout was dressed in a head-to-toe Ruldoph costume. Ridiculous, but cute. Next, to my tiny apartment to grab the half-cooked ingredients for Christmas dinner. We made our careful way back to Neil's bigger place and I began to cook; Neil helped me locate utensils as Travis mixed my drink and got the carols playing. More folks arrived; soon the apartment was filled with animation. Joanna and Kat madly prepared vegetables (Jeff peeled the carrots), drinks were poured, the breeze was shot in the living room on Neil's enormous heated fuzzy rug. Yes... Heated. FUZZY. Rug. I could live on that thing... Melissa and I made a run to the Lawson's convienience store for some milk. We all ate heartily, including my somewhat runny squash pie with whipped-cream-from-a-can, applied by the skillful hand of Chris, our newest staff member from Los Vegas. We played spoons, and an aptly-named game called 'Once Around, You're Drunk'. We drank too much, and we spilled booze on Neils rug. We laughed. We laughed a LOT. Anyway, it wasn't the Christmas I expected. Maybe it wasn't exactly the Christmas I wanted. But it was great.
I played Santa, and after everyone awoke and emerged, the stocking were opened; a bottle of real maple syrup was included for each girl. I cooked pancakes and eggs (and bacon for the two of us non-vegetarians) and we drank pink champagne mimosas and toasted the bright sunny Christmas morning before scooting off to work.
Work was weird; the teachers were unhappy and incredulous that the students could sign up and arrive to lessons as though this was just any other day. I had expected it though, and so brought a little photo album to work with me, and I began every lesson with it: look, this is my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, my aunts, uncles, cousins. This is Aldergrove in the winter. This is the Santa Claus doll that my brother and I have had our picture taken with for twenty-six years running. This is our Christmas tree. My family has Scottish heritage, so in this picture, my brother and dad are wearing kilts. Sharing my Christmas traditions with the students made the lessons bearable; they appreciated where I was coming from, and I felt like I had given them a different perspective on the holiday.
After work I joined forces with Travis and Neil; we hit the liquor store where I bought the ingredients for poor-man's champagne (apricot brandy and ginger ale; my mom's family Christmas cocktail). The man working at the checkout was dressed in a head-to-toe Ruldoph costume. Ridiculous, but cute. Next, to my tiny apartment to grab the half-cooked ingredients for Christmas dinner. We made our careful way back to Neil's bigger place and I began to cook; Neil helped me locate utensils as Travis mixed my drink and got the carols playing. More folks arrived; soon the apartment was filled with animation. Joanna and Kat madly prepared vegetables (Jeff peeled the carrots), drinks were poured, the breeze was shot in the living room on Neil's enormous heated fuzzy rug. Yes... Heated. FUZZY. Rug. I could live on that thing... Melissa and I made a run to the Lawson's convienience store for some milk. We all ate heartily, including my somewhat runny squash pie with whipped-cream-from-a-can, applied by the skillful hand of Chris, our newest staff member from Los Vegas. We played spoons, and an aptly-named game called 'Once Around, You're Drunk'. We drank too much, and we spilled booze on Neils rug. We laughed. We laughed a LOT. Anyway, it wasn't the Christmas I expected. Maybe it wasn't exactly the Christmas I wanted. But it was great.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Wow, I've over-stayed my yen at the internet cafe and I think I've got to make this quick... mucking about doing research and email and chatting and what-not. It's easy to lose track of time at this cafe; I've started coming to one closer to my house called 'Moby'-- it's awesome because there's a non-smoking section and free ice-cream, in addition to all the other usual delights. Coffee, pop, melon-flavoured slush, all you can drink! Comic books! Billards! All for the low-low price of 100 yen every 15 minutes!
I emailed my Christmas Greetings this year, seeing as I haven't had the time or the patience with the staff at the post office to get much off, other than cards to my immediate family. Sorry to those of you who have enjoyed previous editions of my Christmas 'Muse Letter' (I'm such an anachronistic geek)... I'll try and get a New Year's version off during my holiday, which begins on the 27th. New Years cards are the 'thing' in Japan, anyway. As for Christmas-- well, I can't recall if I said, but I'll be helping to cook dinner for a small group of us Nova-ites, and I'm pretty excited about the menu. I've already been shopping and making lists-- I even asked my friend Neil to look up 'hot toddies', though they don't sound as appetizing when you know the ingredients. Might opt for apple cider instead.
Wow! Christmas is almost here! The space under my festively decorated potted palm is bursting with packages from home (thank you, thank you), but I'm undeniably most curious about the contents of the one my brother sent, on which he scrawled 'Granny Panties Suck' in magic marker. My brother sent me underwear? Thoughtful, or creepy? Well, Sandy isn't really the creepy type... he's just... special. Right, bro?
Anyway, I better go pay my bill... shame I didn't have time for one more melon slush-vanilla ice cream screamer before I left... I suppose my butt will thank me. There's one advantage of the holidays in Japan-- no tempting evil Christmas cookies everywhere! (Though I did consume a quarter of the box of shortbread my grandmother sent me last night- tasted like home!) To all of you out there; happy holidays, and best wishes for you and your families and friends. Make the most of the love you've got around you, because there isn't anything better than love...
Namaste
Endrene
I emailed my Christmas Greetings this year, seeing as I haven't had the time or the patience with the staff at the post office to get much off, other than cards to my immediate family. Sorry to those of you who have enjoyed previous editions of my Christmas 'Muse Letter' (I'm such an anachronistic geek)... I'll try and get a New Year's version off during my holiday, which begins on the 27th. New Years cards are the 'thing' in Japan, anyway. As for Christmas-- well, I can't recall if I said, but I'll be helping to cook dinner for a small group of us Nova-ites, and I'm pretty excited about the menu. I've already been shopping and making lists-- I even asked my friend Neil to look up 'hot toddies', though they don't sound as appetizing when you know the ingredients. Might opt for apple cider instead.
Wow! Christmas is almost here! The space under my festively decorated potted palm is bursting with packages from home (thank you, thank you), but I'm undeniably most curious about the contents of the one my brother sent, on which he scrawled 'Granny Panties Suck' in magic marker. My brother sent me underwear? Thoughtful, or creepy? Well, Sandy isn't really the creepy type... he's just... special. Right, bro?
Anyway, I better go pay my bill... shame I didn't have time for one more melon slush-vanilla ice cream screamer before I left... I suppose my butt will thank me. There's one advantage of the holidays in Japan-- no tempting evil Christmas cookies everywhere! (Though I did consume a quarter of the box of shortbread my grandmother sent me last night- tasted like home!) To all of you out there; happy holidays, and best wishes for you and your families and friends. Make the most of the love you've got around you, because there isn't anything better than love...
Namaste
Endrene
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Breathe a sigh of relief, everyone. The ordeal is over, I can sleep again; Nova has decided to renew my contract for another year. Now remains just the pithy business of signing the new contract and getting my new visa. I text-messaged most of my friends and co-workers within minutes of getting the news; as per usual, some the Japanese comments were sweetly funny:
Miho: I can't express how happy I am now! c u day after tomorrow!
Bubu: Sounds good! NOVA took the best way! Because they noticed your ability and what is the most important thing? You got wins!
Yasu: Congratulation!! I am so happy! please enjoy together forever in Japan!
I also recieved invitations to two congratulatory dinners; Satoshi is going to make me something green and healthy on Thursday night (as per my request-- the whole not-using-my-knees-thing has not been kind to the size of my bottom) and then I'm going to blow it the next night at Jenna's cheeeeesy macaroni and cheese party. I've never eaten Scottish macoroni and cheese before. I wonder if it's different somehow? More Mac-tastic, maybe?
I've recently taken a liking to how Bubu puts his hand over his heart whenever he's talking about his mind- the word kokoro means heart, soul, and mind. I'm wondering if Western people would find a greater degree of peace in their day-to-day lives if they could make a greater connection between the three. Anyway, I've been noticing a lot more of the 'small' things lately, since I was under the impression that I was going to be sent home soon. Like how Miho constantly asserts that she's a 'safety driver,' even though she's been corrected several times ("it's safe driver, Miho,") and even though she's not-- she drives that little pink bread-box of a car like a screaming Mimi. Also, things like how the decorative singular vegetables that float in the miso soup are cut to reflect the seasons; in the spring, the paper-thin daikon was shaped like cherry blossoms, now the slices of carrot are shaped like autumn leaves. I'm also trying to pay more attention to how food is prepared; I don't think I could go back to a strictly Western-style diet. I want to know how to make okonomiyaki, tako-yaki, miso, onigiri... and especially how to make the salad dressings that blow my mind. Bubu and Haruko have taught me how to make Niku Jaga-- and they teased me throughout the entire process. Apparently when I attempted to text-message my request for the recipe to Bubu in hiragana, I mispelled and asked for the recipe for Mick Jagger. Mmmm... Rolling Stone Stew. Anyway, it was fun; I'll get around to posting the recipe here one of these days.
As for Christmas... well, only a few days to go, hey? I've been trying to insert Christmassy activities and behavior into my day-to-day life as much as possible, so that I won't feel like I've missed it entirely. The nice thing (in my opinion, anyway) is that all the stores and malls play Christmas music, and have put up lights and little displays. I even heard Kenny and Dolly singing "I'll be Home with Bells On" in the Kiyoei supermarket and Anne Murray crooning over the sushi display at Fuji Grand. It's not exactly the same, but then, I couldn't expect it to be. The plan is to spend Christmas eve at the Boobie Palace with the girls so that when I wake up on Christmas morning, we can open gifts together and enjoy Christmas breakfast. Christmas day I work, but I'm off at two-ish, so I'll head over to another friend's house and start cooking dinner for a few of us. Then hopefully we can gather and drink hot toddies and cut out paper snowflakes and fa-la-la-la-la, and all of that. I'll certainly miss my family, but I'll be with good people that I love, and that love me. What more could I ask for?
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year...
endrene
Miho: I can't express how happy I am now! c u day after tomorrow!
Bubu: Sounds good! NOVA took the best way! Because they noticed your ability and what is the most important thing? You got wins!
Yasu: Congratulation!! I am so happy! please enjoy together forever in Japan!
I also recieved invitations to two congratulatory dinners; Satoshi is going to make me something green and healthy on Thursday night (as per my request-- the whole not-using-my-knees-thing has not been kind to the size of my bottom) and then I'm going to blow it the next night at Jenna's cheeeeesy macaroni and cheese party. I've never eaten Scottish macoroni and cheese before. I wonder if it's different somehow? More Mac-tastic, maybe?
I've recently taken a liking to how Bubu puts his hand over his heart whenever he's talking about his mind- the word kokoro means heart, soul, and mind. I'm wondering if Western people would find a greater degree of peace in their day-to-day lives if they could make a greater connection between the three. Anyway, I've been noticing a lot more of the 'small' things lately, since I was under the impression that I was going to be sent home soon. Like how Miho constantly asserts that she's a 'safety driver,' even though she's been corrected several times ("it's safe driver, Miho,") and even though she's not-- she drives that little pink bread-box of a car like a screaming Mimi. Also, things like how the decorative singular vegetables that float in the miso soup are cut to reflect the seasons; in the spring, the paper-thin daikon was shaped like cherry blossoms, now the slices of carrot are shaped like autumn leaves. I'm also trying to pay more attention to how food is prepared; I don't think I could go back to a strictly Western-style diet. I want to know how to make okonomiyaki, tako-yaki, miso, onigiri... and especially how to make the salad dressings that blow my mind. Bubu and Haruko have taught me how to make Niku Jaga-- and they teased me throughout the entire process. Apparently when I attempted to text-message my request for the recipe to Bubu in hiragana, I mispelled and asked for the recipe for Mick Jagger. Mmmm... Rolling Stone Stew. Anyway, it was fun; I'll get around to posting the recipe here one of these days.
As for Christmas... well, only a few days to go, hey? I've been trying to insert Christmassy activities and behavior into my day-to-day life as much as possible, so that I won't feel like I've missed it entirely. The nice thing (in my opinion, anyway) is that all the stores and malls play Christmas music, and have put up lights and little displays. I even heard Kenny and Dolly singing "I'll be Home with Bells On" in the Kiyoei supermarket and Anne Murray crooning over the sushi display at Fuji Grand. It's not exactly the same, but then, I couldn't expect it to be. The plan is to spend Christmas eve at the Boobie Palace with the girls so that when I wake up on Christmas morning, we can open gifts together and enjoy Christmas breakfast. Christmas day I work, but I'm off at two-ish, so I'll head over to another friend's house and start cooking dinner for a few of us. Then hopefully we can gather and drink hot toddies and cut out paper snowflakes and fa-la-la-la-la, and all of that. I'll certainly miss my family, but I'll be with good people that I love, and that love me. What more could I ask for?
Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year...
endrene
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Still waiting... only two days to go until Friday. Decision day. As it's my day off, I'll be calling in to talk with my Japanese manager, so see what the verdict is. Last night as I was putting on my coat for the long bike ride home, she shook her head, and said, "if you go, I quit too!" Support feels good.
To answer P.Phobic's question, yes, I have looked into teaching for other companies, and have actually already gotten several suggestions (and even an offer) from teachers at other Eikawa schools. However, I really want to come home next summer for... well, either for the summer or forever, I haven't made up my mind yet. And I can't ethically feel OK signing up with another company, only to dump them mid-contract. And there isn't any company that would be willing to give me more than 10 vacation days a year, so... I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, as they say. But I'm greased up, baby! And if you squeeze me too tight, I just might shoot sideways. Watch out!
To answer P.Phobic's question, yes, I have looked into teaching for other companies, and have actually already gotten several suggestions (and even an offer) from teachers at other Eikawa schools. However, I really want to come home next summer for... well, either for the summer or forever, I haven't made up my mind yet. And I can't ethically feel OK signing up with another company, only to dump them mid-contract. And there isn't any company that would be willing to give me more than 10 vacation days a year, so... I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, as they say. But I'm greased up, baby! And if you squeeze me too tight, I just might shoot sideways. Watch out!
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Living under the black wing of Nova is getting to be some pretty sticky business. I got a thorough scolding from the current woman-in-charge of Nova instructors and their comings-and-goings. I thought I had my visa in the bag, but apparently, my calling in sick 5 times this year (and being late twice when I was new and confused) qualifies me as an "unreliable" instructor.
"You know," she said (in a rather sickeningly patronizing voice, I might add) "it just doesn't look good. If you could promise me that you would make an effort to be on time in the future, if we were to renew your contract..." Here I was spurting and choking on words; half of me wanting to say whatever was necessary to make it right, and the larger part of me burning with a white-hot fury that I am unaccustomed to. Hmmm. Kiss her ass, or tell her where to go, and what to do when she got there? She added that everything else looked so good, but there was just the problem of my attendance...
Not wanting to burn any bridges, I went the ass-kissing route. I also had to write a letter, promising that I would be a good and timely little girl in the future. What chafes me is that I have never called in sick when I haven't been sick. Every time I might have liked to extend my vacation, or recover from a hangover, I doggedly went to work and did my job. I'm starting to get really annoyed with working for a company that sees punishment as a more effective means of control than praise. That, and I recently discovered that the Japanese staff members get bonuses twice a year, while foreign personnel get none... what's going on here? At any rate, my kissy-kissy letter might help plead my case for visa renewal. Apparently I'll know for sure on the 15th... my co-workers think it's just scare tactics. I think it's make-me-feel-like-poo tactics.
Dammit, I'm a good teacher. I have never received any complaints from the students. I love and respect the people I teach, and I seem to get the same in response, especially from the kids. But I'm really tired of feeling like a bad guy when everything else says I'm doing a good job. The universe might be pointing me in directions I was previously not ready to go in.
"You know," she said (in a rather sickeningly patronizing voice, I might add) "it just doesn't look good. If you could promise me that you would make an effort to be on time in the future, if we were to renew your contract..." Here I was spurting and choking on words; half of me wanting to say whatever was necessary to make it right, and the larger part of me burning with a white-hot fury that I am unaccustomed to. Hmmm. Kiss her ass, or tell her where to go, and what to do when she got there? She added that everything else looked so good, but there was just the problem of my attendance...
Not wanting to burn any bridges, I went the ass-kissing route. I also had to write a letter, promising that I would be a good and timely little girl in the future. What chafes me is that I have never called in sick when I haven't been sick. Every time I might have liked to extend my vacation, or recover from a hangover, I doggedly went to work and did my job. I'm starting to get really annoyed with working for a company that sees punishment as a more effective means of control than praise. That, and I recently discovered that the Japanese staff members get bonuses twice a year, while foreign personnel get none... what's going on here? At any rate, my kissy-kissy letter might help plead my case for visa renewal. Apparently I'll know for sure on the 15th... my co-workers think it's just scare tactics. I think it's make-me-feel-like-poo tactics.
Dammit, I'm a good teacher. I have never received any complaints from the students. I love and respect the people I teach, and I seem to get the same in response, especially from the kids. But I'm really tired of feeling like a bad guy when everything else says I'm doing a good job. The universe might be pointing me in directions I was previously not ready to go in.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
My black mood shattered this morning.
Yesterday, when I woke up, I had a headache that throbbed regardless of Advil or bed rest or cups of tea. I shut the curtains. First I cancelled my private lesson, then when the headache still hadn't dissipated by 3pm, I cancelled my evening shift at Nova. (For that I will pay the penalty of one day's pay; there are no sick days at Nova allowed, especially when called in after the 11am deadline. And I mean pay-- they won't just cut off a day's salary. I owe it to them.) I lay on my back on the heated floor pad, hiding under the kotatsu table like a child, covering my eyes and my ears. My hurt knee bothered me more by its existence than by any actual pain. Ever since I came to Tokushima, to Shikoku island, I have been harbouring a half-secret dream to attempt the 88 Temple Pilgrimage around the island. It's one of the main reasons I requested Shikoku as my first choice for placement when I became a Nova hack. And now... Well, the Doc said to use my knee as little as possible. Walking 1000 miles for three months doesn't exactly fit in with his recommendations. (See this web page for more info: http://travel-write.com/travel_articles/asia/shikoku_88_temple_pilgrimage/index.htm )
I phoned mom this morning after a long loll in bed with a cup of tea and a mildly soppy Christmas romance novel she'd sent in her latest care package. (I only read these things once a year, I swear!) I wanted a sounding board. Was I doing all right here? She assured me that I was all right, that everyone is very proud of me, etc, etc, everything I needed to hear and more. And, apparently, all Capricorns (her, me, my Auntie Joy and her daughter Cathy, my Auntie Flo) are right out of whack. Our planets are doing the funky chicken or something and all of us feel wonky or dissatisfied, and like our work is getting us nowhere. What do you say fellow goat-girls? True or not true? Are you feeling like greasy-grimy-gopher-guts too? Anyway, it felt good to not feel alone in my fog.
Full appreciation of my life hit me like a wall of roses. I have finally got enough rest. The memories of my Kyoto vacation are starting to percolate now that I've recovered from the assault of the hectic adventure. I finally have an idea about what to do for my family for Christmas (albeit, the gifts will be late). I can choose to be happy. I am relatively healthy. My knee hurts, but I talked with Dad-- he had had a similar knee problem a few years ago, up to the point where doctors were going to operate. He started taking sharks cartilage capsules, and hasn't had a problem since; lucky me! The only thing I recognize in the drug store are the bottles with the pictures of sharks on them! And though the thrilling newness of being in this country may have passed away, it doesn't mean that my learning is complete. It doesn't mean that I'm finished discovering.
Here's one of my recent adventures to prove it:
When we got to Nara, I was surprised to see the deer immediately, and was also surprised by their size. I thought they'd be smaller, more delicate. But they were hefty like large goats, and just as persistent, immediately hounding anybody who stepped towards a deer-snack vendor. Thankfully, most of the males had had their antlers lopped off. I say thankfully because you have to remember that it is autumn in Nara-- these animals are in the full swing of rutting season. The bucks strutted sideways through the busy intersections with arched necks, flashing the whites of their eyes and waggling their genitalia at their opposition. Taxis drove carefully around them, as the deer paid no heed. Ume and her mom and I walked on past them, determined to get to the Daibutsu. The deer swarmed all around. They perused the souvenir displays along the path. They napped on the lawns. They followed terrified children who threw the deer-cookies at the animals rather than risk getting close. As we came up the last stone steps through an arbour of golden ginko trees, we had to stop. A wily buck who had escaped being de-antlered was pursuing a doe; she was trying to hide behind groups of people. The buck was getting very frustrated, and let out his horrible deer-scream of a mating call. It wasn't music to the doe's ears, either. She took off through the trees with the buck in hot pursuit. The three of us breathed sighs of relief between exclamations of "abunai!" (dangerous!), and continued on to the Daibutsu.
This guy is big. Re-e-e-eeeally big. He is dark grayish green, with his eyes slitted thoughtfully and his enormous right hand held up in a gesture of peace. He is housed in the worlds largest wooden structure. All around his base, people from everywhere swarm and try to snap his picture in the gloom. Incense burns. Dim sunshine streams through the slats on the sides of the structure. We could walk right around him; behind him and to his left, there was a sort of hole hollowed out in the base of one of the enormous wooden pillars that supports the building. Ume had told me about this hole beforehand. "It's the same size as the Daibutsu's nose-hole. When I was in junior-high-school, we had a class trip to Nara. So, if you can fit through the nose-hole," here, she gestured with a fisted arm, "you will be clever in your life. One of my friends couldn't fit through! We laughed at him so much!" So I understood that if I could fit my arm through the Buddha-sized nostril-hole, I would be granted eternal cleverness. Sweet. However, I had misunderstood. It wasn't your arm you had to get through this nose-hole. It was your whole self! (I told you the Daibutsu was big!) I stood with the rest of the large group of onlookers as child after child scooted through, slick and quick. The adults seemed to just be watching. I wasn't going to let this opportunity for lifetime cleverness just pass me by. I crouched down and examined the hole. "It's pretty big," I thought. "And I can fit into a Japanese 'L' size now... so here goes nothing." I dove in. My arms, my head, my shoulders slid in, no problem. Then... my butt. Oh NO, my butt! I'm stuck! Ume came around the front of the hole to snap a photo of me looking flushed and maniacal. I wriggled and tried to use my feet to push me through; I felt helpful hands shoving at my waggling rump. It was no use, I backed out with a sheepish grin and a red face and exclaimed "saiyaku!" (that sucks!) to the incredulous and giggling crowd. The promise of lifetime cleverness, snatched away! Ume soothed me and pointed out that I had emboldened the rest of the adults; now the previous onlookers were diving through, one after the other. Ume's mom said that what I really needed was for the Daibutsu to have a big sneeze-- that would have pushed me through. I asked her who had been trying to help me through, her or her mom, or...? "Some old ladies," she replied. You can always count on the kindness of strangers in Japan!
Yesterday, when I woke up, I had a headache that throbbed regardless of Advil or bed rest or cups of tea. I shut the curtains. First I cancelled my private lesson, then when the headache still hadn't dissipated by 3pm, I cancelled my evening shift at Nova. (For that I will pay the penalty of one day's pay; there are no sick days at Nova allowed, especially when called in after the 11am deadline. And I mean pay-- they won't just cut off a day's salary. I owe it to them.) I lay on my back on the heated floor pad, hiding under the kotatsu table like a child, covering my eyes and my ears. My hurt knee bothered me more by its existence than by any actual pain. Ever since I came to Tokushima, to Shikoku island, I have been harbouring a half-secret dream to attempt the 88 Temple Pilgrimage around the island. It's one of the main reasons I requested Shikoku as my first choice for placement when I became a Nova hack. And now... Well, the Doc said to use my knee as little as possible. Walking 1000 miles for three months doesn't exactly fit in with his recommendations. (See this web page for more info: http://travel-write.com/travel_articles/asia/shikoku_88_temple_pilgrimage/index.htm )
I phoned mom this morning after a long loll in bed with a cup of tea and a mildly soppy Christmas romance novel she'd sent in her latest care package. (I only read these things once a year, I swear!) I wanted a sounding board. Was I doing all right here? She assured me that I was all right, that everyone is very proud of me, etc, etc, everything I needed to hear and more. And, apparently, all Capricorns (her, me, my Auntie Joy and her daughter Cathy, my Auntie Flo) are right out of whack. Our planets are doing the funky chicken or something and all of us feel wonky or dissatisfied, and like our work is getting us nowhere. What do you say fellow goat-girls? True or not true? Are you feeling like greasy-grimy-gopher-guts too? Anyway, it felt good to not feel alone in my fog.
Full appreciation of my life hit me like a wall of roses. I have finally got enough rest. The memories of my Kyoto vacation are starting to percolate now that I've recovered from the assault of the hectic adventure. I finally have an idea about what to do for my family for Christmas (albeit, the gifts will be late). I can choose to be happy. I am relatively healthy. My knee hurts, but I talked with Dad-- he had had a similar knee problem a few years ago, up to the point where doctors were going to operate. He started taking sharks cartilage capsules, and hasn't had a problem since; lucky me! The only thing I recognize in the drug store are the bottles with the pictures of sharks on them! And though the thrilling newness of being in this country may have passed away, it doesn't mean that my learning is complete. It doesn't mean that I'm finished discovering.
Here's one of my recent adventures to prove it:
When we got to Nara, I was surprised to see the deer immediately, and was also surprised by their size. I thought they'd be smaller, more delicate. But they were hefty like large goats, and just as persistent, immediately hounding anybody who stepped towards a deer-snack vendor. Thankfully, most of the males had had their antlers lopped off. I say thankfully because you have to remember that it is autumn in Nara-- these animals are in the full swing of rutting season. The bucks strutted sideways through the busy intersections with arched necks, flashing the whites of their eyes and waggling their genitalia at their opposition. Taxis drove carefully around them, as the deer paid no heed. Ume and her mom and I walked on past them, determined to get to the Daibutsu. The deer swarmed all around. They perused the souvenir displays along the path. They napped on the lawns. They followed terrified children who threw the deer-cookies at the animals rather than risk getting close. As we came up the last stone steps through an arbour of golden ginko trees, we had to stop. A wily buck who had escaped being de-antlered was pursuing a doe; she was trying to hide behind groups of people. The buck was getting very frustrated, and let out his horrible deer-scream of a mating call. It wasn't music to the doe's ears, either. She took off through the trees with the buck in hot pursuit. The three of us breathed sighs of relief between exclamations of "abunai!" (dangerous!), and continued on to the Daibutsu.
This guy is big. Re-e-e-eeeally big. He is dark grayish green, with his eyes slitted thoughtfully and his enormous right hand held up in a gesture of peace. He is housed in the worlds largest wooden structure. All around his base, people from everywhere swarm and try to snap his picture in the gloom. Incense burns. Dim sunshine streams through the slats on the sides of the structure. We could walk right around him; behind him and to his left, there was a sort of hole hollowed out in the base of one of the enormous wooden pillars that supports the building. Ume had told me about this hole beforehand. "It's the same size as the Daibutsu's nose-hole. When I was in junior-high-school, we had a class trip to Nara. So, if you can fit through the nose-hole," here, she gestured with a fisted arm, "you will be clever in your life. One of my friends couldn't fit through! We laughed at him so much!" So I understood that if I could fit my arm through the Buddha-sized nostril-hole, I would be granted eternal cleverness. Sweet. However, I had misunderstood. It wasn't your arm you had to get through this nose-hole. It was your whole self! (I told you the Daibutsu was big!) I stood with the rest of the large group of onlookers as child after child scooted through, slick and quick. The adults seemed to just be watching. I wasn't going to let this opportunity for lifetime cleverness just pass me by. I crouched down and examined the hole. "It's pretty big," I thought. "And I can fit into a Japanese 'L' size now... so here goes nothing." I dove in. My arms, my head, my shoulders slid in, no problem. Then... my butt. Oh NO, my butt! I'm stuck! Ume came around the front of the hole to snap a photo of me looking flushed and maniacal. I wriggled and tried to use my feet to push me through; I felt helpful hands shoving at my waggling rump. It was no use, I backed out with a sheepish grin and a red face and exclaimed "saiyaku!" (that sucks!) to the incredulous and giggling crowd. The promise of lifetime cleverness, snatched away! Ume soothed me and pointed out that I had emboldened the rest of the adults; now the previous onlookers were diving through, one after the other. Ume's mom said that what I really needed was for the Daibutsu to have a big sneeze-- that would have pushed me through. I asked her who had been trying to help me through, her or her mom, or...? "Some old ladies," she replied. You can always count on the kindness of strangers in Japan!
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
I have chondromalacia of my patellae. At least, that was the phrase the doctor pointed to after showing me my x-rays. Am I scaring you yet? No big deal, really, it's just mild chondromalacia of the patellae. What it comes down to is that I used my knee too much in Kyoto, walking up and down temple steps and racing to catch trains and buses, and through shopping arcades and over and through and around and under and back. Then to Nara, to see the deer among the flashing golden colours of the park, the Daibutsu (giant Buddha) with a pinkie finger as large as an average Japanese man, and shopping, and a jillion million leaves in rocket red and alarming yellow and flourescent coral. I saw the thousand red tori gates of Inariyama. I saw the golden temple. I saw the famous zen rock garden. I saw Ninna-ji, and one of the three great gates of Kyoto. I saw the second palace of the... guy. An important guy. And of course, I saw Takarazuka. I think I got myself too hyped up about it; the first story was a historical drama about a samurai named Sakamoto Ryoma and his lover-- not bad, but hard to follow the politics. The stage decoration was weak, the costumes were pretty simple. Ryoma was murdered before intermission, so part two was a disaster called "I LOVE CHOPIN!"... bad dancing and weird costumes. A little trippy, a little laughable-- my friend Ume fell asleep.
Whew. An amazing adventure, to be sure. A million little details assaulted my mind, and I am sure that they will come filtering out in my art and writing for years to come. For now, I am coping with the trauma of being back in Tokushima. God, I make it sound like some horrible thing, being here, now. It's not so bad, it can't be so bad. There are no wars, no starving people. There is a good job, and an apartment in need of dusting, and my little bit of loneliness. I am working on remembering all the good things in my life, to be thankful, etc... and then there are days like yesterday when I just stand in the laundry room sobbing into my clean socks.
I can't say what the matter is, because when I try to figure it out myself, I feel ungrateful. I have so much, and so many good people in my life who hold me up and support me in so many ways; my friends and family who send me thoughtful gifts and postcards and email messages; my Japanese friends who tour me around Kyoto and drop work to take me to the Orthopedic surgeon. I don't lack for love. Only for assurance. What am I doing here?
Whew. An amazing adventure, to be sure. A million little details assaulted my mind, and I am sure that they will come filtering out in my art and writing for years to come. For now, I am coping with the trauma of being back in Tokushima. God, I make it sound like some horrible thing, being here, now. It's not so bad, it can't be so bad. There are no wars, no starving people. There is a good job, and an apartment in need of dusting, and my little bit of loneliness. I am working on remembering all the good things in my life, to be thankful, etc... and then there are days like yesterday when I just stand in the laundry room sobbing into my clean socks.
I can't say what the matter is, because when I try to figure it out myself, I feel ungrateful. I have so much, and so many good people in my life who hold me up and support me in so many ways; my friends and family who send me thoughtful gifts and postcards and email messages; my Japanese friends who tour me around Kyoto and drop work to take me to the Orthopedic surgeon. I don't lack for love. Only for assurance. What am I doing here?
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