La Japoneisa: Dreams and Worms

Uh. Zuzka's birthday!

This was the first night I had a proper fully unconscious sleep.
Everynight I keep falling asleep to the images of weeds hanging off the rocks, or peering at me from the ground, weeds everywhere. Another dream I had was about our chickens laying lots of eggs. And I had one that was slightly closer to my usual weird night events and travels and suddenly I felt more comfortable here, even though this dream still was not reaching the traditional positively weird qualities. I was getting married. To whom I do not know since his face nor figure did not appear in my dream, very likely because the groom in himself was only a pawn, an unimportant element, the invisible cause of all the happening (which probably played a more determining role). I was sat in a Japanese-style-taxi car (with those white ornament-thingies on the head rests) and I was going to get married. Suddenly though, as if I woke up, I realized I never wanted to get married straight after I graduate and started turning everything upside down, doing all possible things only in ordder not to get married. I think I might have ran way too. The feeling was as if someone was trying to steal my life and I was only a helpless observer and it was terrifying.

KAIKO WO SODATERU
We succesfully managed to bring up an ugly greenishgray dog-bear-resembling cocoon into a beautiful buterfly. Yesterday we found another caterpillar of the same type and so it now, together with the empty cocoon, inhabits the little green/transparent nurture/experiment tank. Today while kusakari (grasscutting) I found another caterpillar, an orangeybrown hairy creature that has joined the already cocooned one. HanaChan suggested its sasareru (stingy) and thus confirmed my prior assumptions.
Anyhowz, we now have got the orange babe in together with the cocoon (in hope that the orange babe doesn't eat the cocoon it's been bombarded with handfuls of random leaves) and by the side of the tank we have a little plate with some beans in to see whether they'll sprout out (Annie wanted to buy soya beans but they had none in the gardening shop and so she went to a supermarket and just got any beans she saw-with whic we are now experimenting to see whether they'll grow into anyting or are just good for the soup).
All this exciting experimental action awoke a discussion between BoChan and me about kaiko (silkworms) and now we are fully determined to have our own kaiko farm.
(Or at least I am very enthusiastic about it.)

La Japoneisa: Tomatoes and other matters of a simple organic life

(Also 29th July 2005)
Two days of weeding tomatoes.
I found the most interesting things the weeds' roots were living off-ropes, some metal nails, some plastic packages and the absolute winner was a glove.


The weeds that looked like nettles indeed were nettles (arms in a close-to-leprose state).

Cleaning up the house is a good warm up - using Judy's highly developed technique it is fast, comfortable, kind of fun too though sweat dripping. One feels like sitting down rather often. Very hard to stand up though (might remain seated for the rest of the day...or not).

Drove to the onsen yesterday. The more I drive the K-truck down these crappy windy roads I found, the more I grow to appreciate and like the truck and the roads. It was my first time at the onsen with the guests so Annie called the Kazurabashi Hoteru so they know that a new staff member is coming with her group. I arrived, greeted politely and introduced myself. The guy at the desk hardly looked at me, he turned towards our Japanese guests barking at them whether any of them speak Japanese (doh!). I just stood there staring at him, not knowing what to do or say, except for thank you for the explanation, wondering whether to be upset by his mannerisms or whether get used to it like to something I am supposed to get used to. Back at Chiiori Annie told me not to worry as this guy has got a history of being extremely rude to Yuki, to Gin, Alex, her, everyone really. No cramps.

Finished with the chick fence - only one gap is left by the rock wall since there is no where to tie the fence to. The chickens are my friends now. They run towards me whenever I come and then sit around me when I sit down poking on my bum or pockets or anything that ever so slightly sticks out i believe what I came to understand as a demonstrations of inner emotions (= love and friendship).
(this is how well the fence works-after all that work and hassle!)


Tomatoes are all weeded and supported at a loss of a few in the name of a good cause. They look gorgeous (now that you can actually see them).


PS: One of our guests, Richard from New Zealand, was given soya shoots to plant in the field by the chicken fence (oh so safe now that the orange devils are locked up). A couple of days later, as we stood by the field, Annie was laughing and pointing to it-to the plants among which, in the rows, were also neatly planted weeds that somehow got into the box with the soya plants. So uselesslyfunnilycute.

La Japoneisa: My First Time (a genius and a cucumber)

Today was my first time to feed the chickens. I peted them, whistled at and fed them and so soon they are going to become my friends.
The fence is almost done now and the conclusion is that I am an engineering genius. Apart from being an engineering genius I also turn out to be a kitchen-prodigy-child. The JackieChan-murdered-chicken stew and the 'soupu' (cucumber salad that HanaChan refered to as 'soupu') were rather delicious.
Everything is cucumber. I think I might become one. They look so peaceful and inner-y balanced as they lie in silence on the kitchen island.

Today was also my first time to drive our K-truck to my first class of taiko. The journey was rather interesting (on the way back we saw a tanuki no ko (baby raccoon) 8-), and taiko was so much fun (the higher amount of fun being v. probably linear with the lowest possible amount of rythm and skill (though people with rythm also seemed to have lots of fun. hmm. to be revisited)). Omoshirokute tanoshikute hontou ni wakuwaku datta yo!
The taiko guys are very thunderous.
Annie described the class to me as mostly relaxed time of sitting, chatting, smoking and drinking and thus, naturally, I was very happy to find them all in action, and indeed, was highly impressed. And so, as the verdict has it, I also, except for cucumber, want to become a taiko suru hito (easy peasy with all the talent and natural rythm in me) (though, and I am not making this up, I was told that people with no rythm make the best taiko players, mmm).
Not giving up on self!
Self is half eaten by mosquitos.
Self dislikes mushi.
Self still can't speak Japanese.

La Japoneisa: Uh.

Everything here flies. And its all big. And everything stings. And sometimes it all flies and stings. Mushi.

La Japoneisa: An Intruder. A Smuggler.

Am sat on a train to second before the final station of my today's journey-Awa Ikeda, thoughts are wandering about, making a brief stop at the ugly architecture of modern rural Japan. While studying the faces of my fellow travellers I am engaging in an unconscious attempt at assuming 'analytical' conclusions about whether the colour of skin and authenticity of facial features are connected in any way to the geographical home of the 'face-carriers' (if only this sentence made sense *sigh*). Rural Japan inhabited by true-er Japonaise?

I joined a uniformed schoolgirl in a green-train-seat-box thingie. She seemed so absorbed in her manga though was so polite when I asked her if I could sit beside her.
On the next station a bunch of schoolkids boarded the train and two cute laughing girls in different uniforms from the one who I was sat with entered our wagon and approached her. Her face suddenly changed and she seemed so alert and happy and rather confused about what to do next. I almost saw myself getting up and taking my backpack to free the seats so that the girls could laugh together.
Until now I felt like I was returning home and this little incident as if somewhat settled me back into my place where I belonged...as an intruder.

Oh, indeed, returning home can be ever so sweet.

The woman at customs desk at the airport took my passport and the disembarkment card every gaijin has to fill in, she looked at them briefly only to type my name (or something else) into the computer, she said nothing, gave me my stuff and off I was with the biggest possible self-satisfied grin on my face. On the high I proceeded to obtain my backpack. I'm in the place of my heart, my new-old-new home, my place! I am invincible! (Abominable snowman?) The woman at the luggage control desk asked me if I was carrying any guns or illegal substances which of course only idiot would try. She gave me a booklet with all these items on photos and asked whether I had any of those in my possession. A little bit strange since I already said that I have got no drugs and the only weapon on me is my little knife in the top bit of my backpack. Then the woman asked me if it was ok for her to check my backpack. Of course, no problems, I thought, they do it all the time, she'll just look in the top bit, open it a little and see that all there is is a bundle of wires, hiking shoes, a cosmetic bag and a packet of dried apricots in yoghurt. Smooth as a baby's bum was my grandeur return until I saw her hand disappear deeper and deeper in the sack, slowly bringing out all my socks, my underwear, bras and panties occurring at irregular times with the bunches of other wear, alcohol, chocolates and similar essential items of a neccessair. That's when the insecurity slowly crept into my heart and I started feeling very upset. I dont think she noticed neither cared. As she got to the bottom of everything and still found nothing she told me that something was smelled in my bag. She asked whether I had any baccy on me, any weed (probbly believed that the more she asked the more likely I was to admit that I had it (even if I didnt perhaps?)). My upsetness grew into panick, though not because of any smuggling matters since I knew I was not a smuggler. I was absolutely devastated for she utterly destroyed my skilled work of pack-the-blue-red-catterpillar art.
Of course the cow found nothing. She said something was smelled and only then I thought of my May-Amsterdam trip with Dan and that the backpack could have smelled of that. Of course! But hell!, they've got good dogs!!
Suddenly her and her fellow colleague were my bestest friends, she started sticking stuff back into my backpack (as if that helped-doh!) and even if I tried to stop them (almost cried by that time, she really didnt seem to understand the not-all-that-easy-to-pack-one's-backpack concept). The man saw my shodan and asked 'Karate?' and so I said that yes, karate. And then he laughed and asked where was my do gi (with Madoka in Tokyo). Doh! (Felt a bit uneasy at what his thoughts might be, 1. She is a total sham. or 2. Uhmmmm, she likes to practise wearing only her shodan!??)
Though, all was fine again. I was sweating like a mouse (dont like the English way 'like a pig', can pigs sweat??), I probably smelled very bad too, but I was on the high again and my backpack, for some reason, seemed to be packed even better than before.

And I am not planning on remaining an intruder (for much longer) either. (However this plan does strongly not involve attempts at obtaining cute little rice babies in a duty free shop nor elsewhere nor engaging in any this-issue-possibly-related actions).