And we could hear the frogs at night and the sun rise.
In the height of summer, the air was cool and all I wanted to do was lie across the wooden veranda, shaded by he mosquito net (pockets of holes, patched up haphazardly with band-aids) and watch the village children rush past with insect nets.

“What are you doing?” we asked.

And they told us stories of their village. Complete strangers who spoke halting Japanese, who looked like them but also different. Small children who couldn’t fathom a 7 hour plane ride, because the same 7 house could take them to Tokyo on a bus.

I would like to teach English to kids like these. Who tumbled about in the paddy fields and caught beetles and butterflies and small fish from the drains. No worries about entrance examinations or getting straight As. Their biggest worry was perhaps, what laid outside their village.

“Monaka is the brother of Manaka,” one of them repeated because we couldn’t figure out who was who.

“We’re from Singapore.”

“Where’s that?”

“It’s a small island, far, far away.”

Strange, how our small island gets even smaller.

And so, after nearly a year, I’m back at home. I’m not sure when will be the next time I see carp streamers in the air or the burst of shibazakura field upon field, carefully manicured to ensure some aesthetique beyond the flowers’ inherent beauty.

Slowly, I’ve begun to settle into the thick humid air that is Singapore. Some days I feel like I should abandon this blog and focus on my tumblr instead, other days I feel that this is the only and proper outlet for me. It’s quite like how I feel about my life now. I’m stuck at the junction, and I’m not too sure which way I should go.

There will be a proper post about Japan. There will be many. How can I ever stop writing about or even thinking about the place which feels like home?

I am an alien in my own country and an Alien in another.

In other news, I’ve started working at the bookstore again. The cats are calling out to me and I want to scoop Cake and Pico up in my arms and cuddle them for hours on end. It’s a very good place for being.

My final year of school (final year and a half, to be exact) crept up on me. I’m having an art exhibition at the beginning of the year. I’m heading back to Japan for a few days at the end of this. There are people in the bookstore which clunky plastic cameras, all the rage now, because it’s cool but more so because everyone else is using one and because, like me, we all foolishly believe that we can be Very Good Photographers too.

Wind the film up.

Some of them clunk up the stairways, heels on hard wood floors, rubber soles shuffling around. Squeak squeak. The cats mew in unison. Squeak mew squeak mew.

“So cute!” Someone exclaims upstairs and plays with the baby piano for a bit.

More winding.

What are they taking? What do they see? Are they even seeing anything or is it the camera that does all the work? Is this what photography has become? Don’t think, just shoot. Press the button. Sometimes, focus. It’s not important. Let the camera do the work. If it isn’t what you expected, it’s the camera’s fault. We’re devoid of responsibility. Are we? Are they?

I’m not.

God forbid if she was ever allowed to feel any form of happiness again. She had it squeezed dry from her sinewy hair; it dripped off the split-ends along with the residue of shampoo she forgot to wash off in her haste.

But what was she rushing from and hurrying to? What could have been more important that swabbing herself with a sponge and inappropriately fruity shower gel?

The phone was ringing.

Usually she’d let it ring. Ringringringringringringring. Drown it out with the stream of water from the aging shower-head. Sing loudly enough, badly enough, so that the tinny ringing would occasionally sound between verses.

-written on the train, Fukutoshin Line, Tokyo

Back in February, or was it March, I made a 10 day trip around Japan’s middle kingdom. One of the stops, was Naoshima of Kagoshima Prefecture, famed for being an art-island.

One of the houses in the Art House project. I’ve packed away my Naoshima books (I bought so many!) so I can’t refer to them to find the specific names. I know there’s the internet, but somehow I’d like to flip through the catalogs and read up more information that way.

Another Art House project; this time James Turrell’s (who also has an installation in the Chichu Art Museum) Darkside of the Moon. One of my favourite installations. I have a soft spot for art pieces involving shadows and darkness, as cliche as that sounds.

It was a cloudy day when I went, and for short periods of time, the rain decided to have sporadic bursts around the island, and it was a bit of an ordeal trudging about in the winter wind. But there was something very calming about the island, and the weather. It was full of people, but not crowded and never once did I feel that there were too many people in one place. Walking about the island and discovering places not on the map, visiting the Art Houses, tip-toeing through the two main museums, I felt that I could live here and that I’d love to live here. One day I’m going to come back (next year?) and spend a night or two. What’s the island like at night? How would the outdoor installations feel in the darkening sky?

Sadly my film photos of the island are all gone! They got mixed up with my Miyajima photos so no lovely shots of the teabowl (I had to climb the pedestal — shhhh! — to get the shot I wanted!) or other secret photos!

The full set of photos is here.

I was invited to dine with a group of her friends, along with Emily from Twitter, last Saturday at a popular yakitori place down in Omotesando/Aoyama. It was awesome meeting everyone — they were all so nice to me even though I was freaking out half the time.

When I met her at her office, Yoko passed me a packet of delightful goodies!

I wonder what’s inside… (I love the striped packaging!)

A cute mousepad with the horses drawn by Naho!

I’m going to pin this onto my Mitsubachi tote! (Also by Naho!)

Yoko also included a guide to Osaka, which I thought was incredibly thoughtful! I wish I had this when I went to Osaka back during Spring Break.

It’s well-designed, with good font-choice and beautiful photographs.

Speaking about photographs, I had the honor of meeting two photographers (Komiyama Yusuke and his wife) and they critiqued my very embarrassing portfolio. I’m usually not easily moved, but hearing them seriously go over my photos and give me advice was very, very nice of them. Thank you so much.

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Replies:
Yuri: Yes please! I’ve fallen in love with Matterhorn’s cakes. Can’t wait to go back again!

Traveling, traveling, I’m always traveling. Coming back to my dorm room in Nishiwaseda makes my other life blurred, and sometimes I just want to stop going to school and just go on a long trip with just a suitcase and my camera.

Lately, I’ve been taking photos with my F50 (5 rolls left undeveloped) and the Camera + app on my iPhone. The latter’s a pretty good app and well worth the money. I get sharp shots on the fly.

My culture class headed to Gakugeidaigaku (a favourite haunt of Hiki and Ebony) for an ikebana and sado class.

On the way to the school, I noticed Matterhorn! A cake shop that was raved about in Hiki and Ebony’s blogs! I dragged my classmates there and proceeded to gasp over the selection of cakes and ice cream.

Their boxes are darling.

I bought a custard choux cream and a mini mont blanc!

I’m also going to be traveling with friends from Singapore! I’ve been traveling by myself for the past… 8 months that I’ve been here so this is a first for me.

photo by jpellgen

Any places that I should definitely check out in Kanazawa, Shirakawa-go and Takayama?

Carlos picked up his shot glass of something — at this point anything that could get him drunk was good — and tipped it into his open mouth.

It was as though he was trapped in the baby section of the department store. Pink and blues were watered down to grossly indifferent pastels. Colors that were fixed: “boy”, “girl”, and “what the hell are you buying for your baby”. Inoffensive colors that couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone babies’ goo-goo eyes.

He blinked. Maybe he was going mad. But he could still see everything in their own color, albeit a powdered fluffy version.

Another shot.

Maybe he wasn’t going mad, but just waking up to the droll reality of it all. The world was never as intense as he had lived it. It was always this flannel blanket of a world that didn’t want its own people to walk into table-corners and chew on wires.

He swiveled on his bar stool and looked out onto the crowd of pulsating people. They were supposed to be dancing, but to him, to Carlos who had two left feet, they looked like they were flailing. Pretty badly, too.

“Bartender, give me another.”

“We’re all out.”

“You’re all out? Of tequila?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of place is this?”

“A good one that stops serving drinks to customers who are too far gone.”

“What d’ya mean. I’ve barely gotten started.”

“You aren’t out there on the dance floor with the rest of them.”

Carlos’ eyes narrowed. “The rest of them. The rest of them? You mean those things out there?”

“Ah huh. People who haven’t had enough to drink head out to the dance floor.” The bartender hadn’t yet looked Carlos in the eye. He picked up another tankard and wiped it, slowly, methodically, with a faded old rag.

“I haven’t had enough to drink to join those idiots,” Carlos replied. The shot glass he was holding came down with a bang and bits of glass flew up into the air.

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I want to start a writing exchange, so that I can start writing again.

On Monday I met the lovely Yoko from 8tokyo.com and her husband, Noriaki, for dinner at a cozy trattoria at Kagurazaka, which is fast becoming one of my favourite neighbourhoods.

The food was so delicious I forgot to take photos of them, but I finally remembered to take a photo of the delicious baked/glazed pudding that I had for dessert. 本当に、本当に、ありがとう。Everyone has been so nice to me, I feel really motivated to work hard now.

I have lots of work due over the next few weeks, along with exciting plans that involve music, travel and friends. I’m also hoping to travel to Kyoto in the summer for the Gion Festival. I was there during the last day of the festival two years ago, and I hope to be there for a few days, at least, this year!

Some photographs from my Late Spring in Tokyo.

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Replies

Sun: Thank you for visiting! And thank you so much for the lovely comments.

aron: They are! I keep buying so many for myself, sometimes I worry if there are any left for the customers…