Linguistic Revivals

Recently, purely by chance, I came across a blog which has ever since been shooting thunderbolts across my brain. Sadly, as the author writes exclusively in Italian, I fear her work may be inaccessible to most of you who kindly read my ramblings.

My relationship with Italy and the Italian language has been filled with twists. Although bilingual and educated (for the most part) in Italian, since waving goodbye to my odd little highschool I have not used it much. At university I tutored those learning, and naturally sang  arias in it, but it was no longer the language of conversation or education. Italian literature, which had once filled my shelves and summers, was no longer a staple of my printed diet. Eco, Buzzati, Salgari, Levi fell by the wayside to make room for all the American literary pop culture I needed to catch up on.

My relationship to the country itself has also been problematic, especially since experiencing Japanese society. While Italy is a land of unspeakable beauty and other delights, it can also be loud, confrontational and aggressive. Thinking of those around you is not as common as it is in Tokyo. Being an introvert in Italy can be absolutely exhausting, as I feel I must be on my guard. In a way I turned away from my own country.

Then upon my virtual doorstep arrives Giappone Mon Amour, and shocks me into remembering how absolutely beautiful Italian writing can be.  A language replete with adjectives, highly specific verbs and turns of phrase, it is a delight to the reader. With the  exception of the occasional Benni book it has been years since I have surrounded myself with such a rush of latinate words. 

Italian writing, like speaking, has an unmistakable torrential cadence, as you can often read for half a page before finding a period. Like all deluges, a lengthily  elaborated  thought will break off sharply and go into another, tenuously related direction. It feels like being wrapped in the wafting smell of deeply roasted coffee and lashings of sugar.

After so many years of spending each day pushing at my ignorance of Japanese, reading her work and fully understanding the references, quotes and literary tradition she links to is like sinking into a warm onsen.

So here I am, sitting in a Tokyo train, falling in love again with Italian, thanks to a woman I have never met (although I hope to, as she has a really adorable corgi) and her impressions of Japan.

The universe works in mysterious ways.

Obsession

Recently my obsession with sunsets (and presumably sunrises, should pigs fly and I decide to become a morning person) has gotten more pronounced. I cannot help it, and the fact that my window faces the sunset makes it far too easy to take a picture... or 50.

The colours are just so beautiful! And the shades and patterns change every day, making it impossible not to watch the sky slowly turn dark. The sky over Yokohama is so wonderfully dramatic, thanks to the proximity to the sea.

Let the Festivities begin.... (oy vey)

December has landed, with its usual accountrement of bounenkai, Christmas parties, weddings, more bounenkai and the general rushing around one must do before the winter holidays.

 

I tried to plan it all out, to balance the fun (but tiring) carousing with restorative walks in the park... it is only December 5th, and that plan is already out the window!

 

Still, things kicked off well. The Hash House Harriers Christmas Party was a blast. I somehow got awarded 'Best Trail', complete with personalized t-shirt and two kilos of baby carrots I am trying to find a use for. We took over the New Sanno Hotel, which is entirely owned by the US Armed Forces, and provides a very strange little bit of America in the middle of Tokyo. Go if you ever have the opportunity, it is a rather surreal experience.

Amidst all this rushing, Matcha-kun informed me that we were going out for kushikatsu. Of course, I was completely uninterested and reluctant, as I hate all delicious deep-fried things (right...). Upon arriving at Kushitei, I was immediately seized by a sense of deja-vu. Our first date had been at their Ebisu branch. Apparently Matcha-kun remembers times and dates, which is more than I can say for myself.

The omakase course is fantastic, everything was delicious, and sometimes graced by special yuzu or pesto sauces. I may have ordered 3 sticks of cheese and pesto...and enjoyed every second of it. Kushi and spumante make a wonderful combination :)

 

Let us all try to get to our Christmas/New Years vacations alive!

Summer Grand Finale

You can't have a Japanese summer without fireworks. And usually, in Tokyo, you cannot have fireworks without crowding, loooong lines in the train stations and standing about waiting.

However, the all-knowing Wave-chan recommended a fireworks festival near her home, on the Seaside line.

Showing up a mere hour before the start of the show, we were stunned to be able to saunter down the beach and get some space right by the water. I went to get takoyaki (managing not to drop them on my yukata) and only had to wait in line for a few minutes. Mind boggling.

It is great to spend an hour with your eyes to the heavens, watching burst after burst of flame and colour. Although the heat of summer will not relinquish its grasp on the city for another month or so, the end of summer is nigh. As soon as September rolls around work will pick up, along with musical performances, the number of queries I receive on a daily basis, and other responsabilities.

But for now we can sit in the cool sea breeze at night, running in the surf and laughing at ghost stories.

A Sunday in the Shitamachi: YaNeSen

You know you are in for something special when, on the way to Nippori station on the eternally jammed Yamanote line, you find yourself in an almost empty train watching the buildings get smaller and smaller.

Affectionately known as YaNeSen (Yanaka-Sendagi-Nezu), this part of Tokyo was untouched by fire bombings during WW2, which may help explain why it has managed to retain the tranquillity and charm usually reserved for small towns in Japan's minor islands. The area is a treasure trove of old wood buildings, pint-sized restaurants and surprises.

The curtain of quiet drops as soon as you get 100 metres away from Nippori station, and slowly start to walk down the shady lanes of the wonderful Yanaka Cemetary. There, amongst the graves of the brightest minds of the Meiji and Taisho era, Miyagi Michio (founder of my koto school) and a famous murderess, the quiet is only broken by the chirping of grasshoppers and the chanting of monks from one of the myriad of temples in the area. The slight smell of incense and flowers carries on the wind, and in the clearings you can see Tokyo Tower.

The food choices are vast, and equally tinted with the nostalgia of the area. Yakuzen Curry Jinenjou's wood interior and soundtrack of old French songs somehow perfectly compliment the 'medicinal' curry, which contains a whole series of specially selected herbs and vegetables to up your healthiness... which then gets seriously challenged by all the little bakeries and wagashi stores. Eventually I fell for a special natsu daifuku, filled with half a kiwi instead of a strawberry.

Click your Ruby Slippers

For those who have chosen to live thousands of miles, dollars and Sky Miles away from their native country (or at least family), I think we put a great deal of importance on creating an actual 'home' (as opposed to a place one just lives in). Am I off-track here?

However, this concept of 'home' brings up issues of guilt, particularly when speaking with parents and relatives. If I call my current living place 'home' I often feel as if this somehow equates to a rejection of my parents' home, which is why I wish there were a better translation for the concepts of 'jikka' and 'uchi'... ah well.

While I spend a great deal of my time at work, waltzing around the city and maintaining a decent social life, as an introvert I do relish my time alone. And I love my room, my personal lavender-scented haven. My sharemates (except Wave-chan), most of whom are from Kanto, put very little importance on decorating their space, usually just choosing a single-color scheme for the room. But they are never very far from that jikka, which one one hand might provide a greater feeling of stability, while on the other it could be that they consider their current living space secondary, since their 'real home' is so nearby .

When the owner of the house first saw my room (and it was not even completely decorated yet!), his eyes went wide and declared it 'hade' (garish). Admittedly this is coming from a man who decided beige was 'the' colour of choice for decorating! However, I can kinda see what he means.

My home is me, and is set to be the most relaxing environment possible. The walls are covered with postcards and pictures from my travels. The floor is graced by the most beautiful, tufty Persian carpet I have ever laid foot on. Here and there are antiques from my grandparents, next to my beloved koto. There are shades of blue, green, gold and cream, all set off by light wood.

The curtains, which alternately hide and frame the view of the garden, are a quirky black and white print, and I put a couple drops of lavender oil on them once a week, so the room smells like Provence (hopefully).

I would be curious to hear what other people think of this issue of 'home'!

Toyoko Line Love- Gakugeidaigaku to Toritsudaigaku

I love to walk. A lot. As in, my favorite programme on Japanese TV is 'Chii Sampo', a show targeted to the obaahan (little old ladies) set, where the host does hito-eki sampo (one station walks) all around Tokyo and other large cities...very uncool, I know.

So, on a sunny (if chilly) Sunday, I set out to explore the area between and around Gakugeidaigaku and Toritsudaigaku, on a walking date. It was very quiet, probably due to the cold wind whipping around. Starting near Gakugeidaigaku station, we wandered past a hole-in-the-wall where the owner offers Chinese tea ceremony for 500 yen, and just slight further down a patisserie called, nostalgically, Rue de Passy, which started a conversation about Paris... and the joys of St.Honore's, yum.

A park filled with adorable, perfectly-dressed dogs and a small shrine in the middle of the lake distracted me (admittedly mostly the dogs!), and we then continued on through the twisty streets, eventually ending up at the bottom of a slope, where this awesomeness appeared:

Pancada is a wonderfully overstuffed antiques shop, mainly filled with delicate Georgian and Edwardian furniture. If you think about it, the size of the furniture is perfect for Japan, since many antiques tend to be smaller and more compact than modern designs. There was a stunning little bookshelf calling my name... man, I really am an obaahan.



Toritsudaigaku, despite the name, no longer has a university situated there, so is much less lively than it must have been in the past. However, this does not stop it from having the amazing redeeming quality of being home to Addis. The owner used to be the chef at the American Embassy, and the brunch menu alone is worth the trip. The eggs Benedict (oh, hear my arteries clang shut) were superb, as was the veggie-filled grilled Cheddar sandwich. In addition, if you call a couple days in advance, the owner will make Ethiopian dishes! They may never get rid of me.

A quick detour to Shinmaruko was the final adventure of the day, although this did require cheating (riding the train). I love the Inari-san foxes, and just a couple minutes from the station, we were rewarded with this foxy delight of a shrine:

A Week of Sweets

It is once again the time of giri-choco, tomo-choco... and just general overconsumption of sweets. However, my sharemate Wave-chan takes it all to the next level. Since she works in a cafe, her dessert-making skills are sublime. Wouldn't you be thrilled to receive one of the beautifully decorated cakes above?

Fortunately she was kind enough to share her talents, and after a nice brunch on Saturday, even I got wrapped up in making truffles (which was actually surprisingly easy), that were later scoffed with apparent appreciation by both Matcha-kun and my sharemates.

However, my Valentine's gift was even better. My boss (have I mentioned that my boss is awesome? 'cause she totally is) gave me fresh ramen, wonderful, tasty shoyu ramen! She certainly has me figured out! Is there any better way of spending an evening than with a bowl of ramen, banana chiffon cake (Wave-chan's creation again), a cup of tea and friends?

Little Moments

This is the busiest time for my industry, and man can I feel it. Not even New Years makes much of a dent in my schedule. However, there is always time for life's little pleasures... especially if they are cheap or free!

I got a gig doing some hair modeling in Ginza. Just walking to the salon was a breath of fresh air, looking at all the roads and buildings decorated for Christmas, glittering in the dark. I was a bit apprehensive, but fortunately the salon wanted shots of rather elegant styles. My hair turned out wonderfully poofy, the perm brought back to life! The stylist also gave me one of those wonderful head massages, and I was close to passing out, out of sheer happy.

Banks in Japan give their clients little gifts (perhaps to placate our annoyance at the ridiculously low interest returns?). In my case, I got some onset bath salts. So relaxing, and they make skin wonderfully soft. I'm saving the last one for February, when my desire to run away to Okinawa to escape the cold will be at it's strongest.

And finally, pumpkin pudding ice cream. So, so delicious.