Quaking of the Earth

And the world stopped.

I realised the other day I have not been keeping up this blog. In fact I realised it was actually the day the biggest earthquake for a century struck the east coast of Japan. It moved the set of islands 8 feet, 2 and a half metres, further towards Asia. Someone joked "at least this has brought Japan closer to China" and someone else said "I don't care about Japan, look at what they did to Pearl Harbour".

American or not, Japanese or not, this disaster is no easy thing to think about. I have seen natural disasters over the years, the 2005 Tsunami, the earthquakes in Haiti, in Christchurch, but never have I literally been in one. And now, I am sitting here, in my office, writing this as I should be working. But who can work with a sane mind as there are those who suffer, as there are those who are crying, as people are hurt and I have not even been assigned to "this particular project". What can I do to help if I cannot help? What can I do but sit here and cry with those who cry as Japan limps on, and on, and on, and on . . .

What can you do when the world falls apart and you are there with a needle and thread? What can you say to the man who throws the grenade into the pit and simply bares his toothless mouth in a grimacing grin? What makes you care more about the people who shout and scream than those who are nearer to you than your own soul?

The answer.... I have absolutely no idea.

Shoes and Naked Men

So yes, you might have been on facebook and seen my most exciting news so far... I bought two pairs of shoes, not the one. Well, you see, the day I wrote my last blog... Friday I think, I went by the shop, and decided to actually stop and consider buying them. I was there perhaps for a little too long, and I did pick them up, because a very friendly shop assistant came up and offered to let me try them on. Well, of course I accepted, and they were amazing! (Okay a little tight tbh, but they have since been eased into form)
And it turned out, when I lost track of the Japanese and my knowledge of the language fell apart, that I found out my helpful person actually spoke English very well, so we carried on in my native tongue woo ho. Well I did try Japanese, but then she insisted English was fine.
So maybe it was her who encouraged me to by the 2nd pair, a beautiful red pair of heels that are now my facebook page... and actually both of the pairs together were on offer for 23 quid!
Oh yeah, and naked men. if anyone ever saw "80 faiths around the world" (you can find it on you tube) you may remember the festivals in Japan. The crazy ones. Well, I am going to the naked man festival next week, on the day after St. valentines, and I do so look forward to it. Oh yeah. naked men, well they wear loin cloths, but whats not to love in a mad rush of almost naked men in the temple of ... fertility shall we say?
A-hem

A Pair of Beautiful Shoes

How many times should you pass a shop with a pair of beautiful shoes on display, stop and stare and sigh, before you finally get up the guts to go and buy the damn things?

If someone realistically has an answer to this question, I would like to know it. Because, as you may know, I came back from a five-day holiday in Kyoto two weeks ago now, and ever since then I have been working in my office again. And everyday I pass by this very awesome shoe shop - honestly, I would recommend it for any shoeaholic - with this one particular pair of shoes. They are a little like converses, but not, a little like boots but not, they come in two colour versions (though, to my horror, the purpler pair have all completely gone), and are almost tartan pattern, with a multitude of colour in them. And I love them.

BUT I have passed by them at least twice everyday (and once three times because I went out of the underground shopping centre where they live too early and had to circle around, then descend again, so walked by them happily again) and every time I see them I fall in love all over again.

My greatest fear if that the remaining pair will all sell out and I will be stuck with a great amount of regret. Okay I would have to bring them back to Scotland but BY DARN THEY ARE GORGEOUS AND I LOVE THEM!!!

the 100yen shop

The 100 yen shop is your basic one dollar store, or as we might know it "poundland" (like that really good one in Stirling, that totally ruined my resolution of only buying books when I had finished one...). It is amazing, I buy origami paper for next to nothing, most of which turn into presents, paper to write on or artwork, and patterns. Such as dinosaurs, and my newest... a crow.
I can also buy Manga for 100 yen (roughly 90p) though it is all in Japanese.
But yeah, it is a very cheap store, which sells VERY cheap things, and where I got my tipex mouse from. It lasted two inches, then the tape broke. Oh poo.

Well there is cool stuff, such as my pen holder, on a swing, and my new interest, wire puzzles that take ages to complete. And tip-ex pens that work rather than the mice. And gummi bears. The proper, German kind. And very awesome cushions. And....  Japanese stuff.
Yeah. Its cool.
Hey ho.

hmmmmm

i havent written for AgggeeesssssS
Hmm new year was cool. I went to the shrine (Shinto), and my host sister went to the temple the night before (Bhuddist) to hear the bel thing rung 108 times. I asked why, they said Bhudda said that there are 108 happy things. I ask why are we one limited to 108??!!
So yeah I went to a pretty epic Canadian hogmany party woo hoo with dips and cheese fondue and nachos. WHo doesnt love nachos? And now I am eating gummi bears.... keep posted for the gummi bear extravangaza coming sooon.
I dressed in a kimono. Not the one from before, no, this time I was in my host sister's one from her twenty -year ceremony, a beautiful blue number with sparkles : D and all the layers too. I had to wear a towel underneath, around my waist becaus I have a "Westerners waist", ie an hourglass shape. Kimonos are designed for asian people ie apples and pears : P. WHich is a good thing. I wish I was a pear. I would taste beetter.
So yeah, awesome possum.

words

Go
This is the name of a popular board game here (though not quite as popular as Mahjong) and also means number five.
Kame
The hairy god of paper. Yes, this very small word means not only hair, but also paper, and god. A god, not the God. He is ust called God around here.
Kaki
The name for a persimmon, and also means oyster. Or is it squid? I forget.
But yes, words are cool. I am learning a few. Like ii Nioyi. This means "good smell". So I can say "Sakura no dame nioyi desu" and everyone laughs at my simplistic Japanese. Or should I say Nihon-go. Oh yeah. Go also means language.
Hmmm
But momo means just peach and peach. As in the fruit and the colour. Like in English.
Amo amas amatis, amamus amantis amant.
Hmmm.

Japan Flavoured Pepsi, mark 2

Long can be short,
Short can be long,
And the really tiny can change the world.

So yes, the rules regarding zebra crossings here (or are they pelicans? Toucans?) is to do with the lights. Most crossings in all of the cities have some sort of lights; traffic lights, pedestrian lights, even train lights. Many people are of a negative opinion about these, but they keep quiet, adhering to the "rule" with little difference. Every morning I walk through down-town Sakae, two kilometres past thousands of lights, particularly those of Christmas Illuminations, stopping at every crossroads, Sometimes it is a good day, and the green man is on my side, sometimes I become infuriated and take the subway, where I walk through the tunnels abundant with shops.
So "the rule" states that you wait for the green man, even when there is not a car in sight. But as a gaijin I am premitted this outrageous affinity. But what I do not get is their hoardes. Steadily, the crowd builds up as the road-heaves, wuntil it is seemingly about to burst. Then when the cars stop, about ten seconds before the green man decides to show his face, and his hat, he first man takes a step. Often I consider hat tehy are telepathic and can read the green man`s mind, but no. They are just experts at timing. Here, the world runs by clockwork.
Still people walk after the green man and his chirping bird friend have ceased and are flashing. There is one thing only that I know about this. It is when the pretty green girl dies.
So yes, life is truly bizzare, and seeing people on bicycles everwhere, even in the supposedly bicycle-free zones, it is different. Especcially policeman. Or they were officers, or simply stewards, as they all dress smart, and in matching uniforms.
I saw four of them, in exact succession. Each stroke ad cycle was in perfect timing, perfect synchronisation. So beautiful. Down . . . down. Past the woman, smooth betwixt the lampost and bin, a sly glance over the crossroads - luckily green-bias and empty - and the lead man carefully slides diagnally across the road, and the white lines, easing his way into Nagoya. And one by one, in equal distance, come the next  . . . four. The last, the fifth, comes seemingly from nowhere, pedalling madly, his hair in disarray. The imperfection to the perfection.
Some things are the same. Such as drink. To wake myself I go into 7-11 to get some sort of heavy caffience priority and find pepsi. Oh the days when I was adiccted . . . I search past the "nex" and "smoothy" and find "Mont Blanc". Oh, I think, a new one, named after the french mountain. I buy it, unscrew the lid and wait for he brown liquid to fill me and wake me.
But when it reaches my taste buds, I am taken aback. This is not pepsi as I know it. This one is familiar, but foreign. I do not know, it is nothing like I have ever had before.
Then I realise.
"It tastes of Japan."
They were my thought-words. Exactly.