Three.

'Culture Shock'

Jong,

So as promised here is a little tiding over about my preparation (or lack of it) for Japan.

The meeting we had today was bizarre, vaguely hysterical and only semi-practical. Yes, I know these phrases promote more confusion than answers. Welcome to my world.

But the one thing which hit me today was Helens discussion on 'culture shock'. I've had some information from Japan regarding this before, so it surprised me that it was being reiterated in a meeting. But what I didn't get from the email was that it is a real phenomena and most likely will affect all of us at some point whilst we're there. So this post is an advance apology: if the messages/or the way I talk to you becomes 'Japan is sooo much better than everything in England' or 'Japan is shite' don't get annoyed at me, please. I'm trying to cope with something much bigger than I can handle, so please forgive me if I cause offence. It's like when you go to uni and you have the point when you really need/want to go home and you take it out on people you love. We've all been there, so give me your patience and love and I will say to myself 'I am grounded. I am humble. I am one with everything'.


(I know we aren't going for that long, but we will be there for at least 100 days. Imagine a 100 days with voices speaking in a language you can't understand. It would be like living without the colour purple. It's impossible to imagine living without it and makes you feel isolated because it has become only a memory to you. Everybody else can see purple in it's rich, darkened, majesty or it's calming lilac hue. But you are searching and can never find it. But eventually, one day, you are able to pick out the tiniest, whisper shade, of white purple in the azure sky. And you feel slightly safer. Because you're starting to understand. And that gives you hope.)



Basically, the concept of 'culture shock' doesn't surprise or scare me. The symptoms remind me of when I've had issues with the sad pieces in my head. So although I will never say I'm prepared, I'm ready to say 'Battle on', again.

(I suppose this requires some explanation about what I mean about the 'sad pieces in my head'. You won't get it though. I reveal things when I need to.)


(forever yours)

Two.

Jing-Jang-Jong,

As you know it's the painful experience of exam/essay period, so the next update will either be a) after my next meeting on Wednesday or after the 31st when my exams are over. Hope these posts are okay so far :)

yours forever.

One and a Half.

So that was the beginning.

Having barely referenced this (Brighton) was the catalyst, of realising that I'm going to miss so much whilst I'm away, it seems necessary to post this as well.

Saying that: I'm not going to focus on how much I will miss you all.

Because if I do, I will get scared.

(you will never know how much you guys mean to me.

I loved Thom (partly) because he gave me family.

I love you guys because you give me home.)

I've talked to several of you that I'm going to leave a box with 'pieces of me' in it. You'll understand better if you take something out of it. I'm going to leave it with my housemates out of ease. You'll get a facebook message, or a post on here, as soon as it's all sorted. All will be explained eventually :)

The box is done out of fear, let me reassure you. I am terrified of being forgotten.

But, boy, you gotta admit, I'm going to have an adventure.

Forever Yours

One.

This is for the Jing-Jang-Jong.

I'm not sure if the saying is 'Beginnings are easy, endings are hard'. Maybe that's true. Maybe it's only true when it comes to relationships. But the point is, this beginning is hard for me.

I'm starting off not at the beginning, because I don't know how to define it (When I'm boarding the plane? When I land in Japan? When I say goodbye?), but yesterday: 20/01/2011.

After meandering over the shingles and stones I plonked down on the 'glorious' Brighton sea front. Strewn about me were a couple of heavy bags, crammed with clothes and little presents for people. I sat and looked out to sea.

Bam!

Memory!

(Craig will understand this: I wrote to him before about these moments)

Something clicked.

It was about 4.30pm.

The sun was on its slow descent straight across the water.

It's horrible how beautifully clichéd this moment was.

There were silhouettes of this old couple standing at the waters edge. They may not have been together, they may not have been happy. But their image was one of pure closeness.

It reminded me of being happy.

It reminded me of being in love.

There was enough cloud cover so you could stare directly at the sun, I followed it with my eyes until the clouds shifted and it dazzled white light. The water shone. You could see the little rip-tides out at sea. And as I was sat between the beautiful (in its elegant gaudiness), working, living pier and the hollow shell of the old one, I felt my place. Being trapped between lives didn't matter because the sea was ahead. You could feel all the space you had to breathe, going on, for miles and miles out to sea. And the piers were comforting. I didn't have to choose between them, they were just next to me, a part of my living space.

Family's were trawling the sea front, beautiful in their shadowed anonymity of perfection.

I watched a little longer and finally got up and turned directly behind. Crossed the shingle, headed over the traffic islands and into town.

The moment had to end, so I let it do so in solitude.

Every time I go to Brighton, I joke I am returning to the home land. But that's how it feels.

I want to take you guys there.

I want you all to sit on the beach as the sun goes down. Sat in deckchairs, fish and chips in hand. And to laugh at how gay and poetic I want to be. But secretly we are all thinking how beautiful the moment is.

(Thanks to Bernie who sent the exact, right, text when this was happening.

We're sharing our places :)

Forever yours.