30 March at 01:17
I'm in Hong Kong waiting for my transfer, will write properly soon but me and Shell have just comandeered some free computers. We are unsure if our bags will arrive with us in Japan because we are retarded and don't know how to follow instructions :)
So yes you with your optimism! I astill have 3 hour flight and a 3 hour wait here.....
I love you, I will have to write properly later seeing as you mainly asked about a country I haven't seen yet.\
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Thursday, 14 April 2011
New Approach
So I've been in Japan 2 weeks. There is no feasible way for me to write properly, I'm much too busy. So I've got permission to post responses to peoples letters on here! They are slightly edited so they remain about Japan and don't include personal infrmation. So here goes:
Sunday, 27 March 2011
Five and a half.
C,
I look back on here and can literally see my last 4 weeks. Seeing as I have not posted a blog in that time (at least) I do apologise to those of you who want to hear more of the practicalities in going to Japan. I have several draft copies on here of things I was going to write about (getting the Visa and so forth) which hopefully I will backdate when I am free.
So. I'm going to Japan tomorrow.
Fuck.
Maybe I should exaplin the last couple of weeks...
Two very literal tsunamis happened.
One rocked the coast of Japan.
This tsunami was a suspension for those of us waiting to go. The juggler had all his balls in the air. And we didn't know if they would keep going up or crash back down to Earth. The university kept us informed, but statements were being sent back and forth about whether we should go, whether we wanted to drop out and whether we could still pass second year without going. This suspension is still going on now. A further tsunami warning has been issued. This may fizzle out off the Richter scale of peoples lives. But it may crash down on that beaten coast line again, and we do not want to be a strain on resources. However, luckily for us, the university we are going to is quite far south. And although the damage done to the country will effect my travelling plans for after the course, I'm just thankful I can still go.
The other Tsunami:
Tez who unexpectedly came crashing into my life.
I suppose you could call it a whirlwind romance. Except it wasn't that much of a whirlwind or a romance.
I can write this sudden relationship as a series of bullet points. I shall call it:
'A Relationship on Fast Forward'
Silent disco.
Me: drunk.
Tez drunk.
I flirted with Tez over bar.
I kissed Tez over bar.
*Couple of hours later*
Bumped into each other by the bar.
(And this is where it gets hazy)
'You want to make out now?'
'Okay'
And thus a relationship was formed.
Okay it didn't quite happen like that :)
But the point is we sort of became immediately inseparable.
I don't know whether it is because we are emotionally self-destructive. Or genuinely liked each other. Or my loneliness got the better of me and I clung to the first person who gave me attention. But we got together and are staying that way for a little while (apparently :P).
So yeah.
That has been my life. Hedonistic. Happy. Loved. (ish)
I'm going to miss you guys.
always yours,
<3
I look back on here and can literally see my last 4 weeks. Seeing as I have not posted a blog in that time (at least) I do apologise to those of you who want to hear more of the practicalities in going to Japan. I have several draft copies on here of things I was going to write about (getting the Visa and so forth) which hopefully I will backdate when I am free.
So. I'm going to Japan tomorrow.
Fuck.
Maybe I should exaplin the last couple of weeks...
Two very literal tsunamis happened.
One rocked the coast of Japan.
This tsunami was a suspension for those of us waiting to go. The juggler had all his balls in the air. And we didn't know if they would keep going up or crash back down to Earth. The university kept us informed, but statements were being sent back and forth about whether we should go, whether we wanted to drop out and whether we could still pass second year without going. This suspension is still going on now. A further tsunami warning has been issued. This may fizzle out off the Richter scale of peoples lives. But it may crash down on that beaten coast line again, and we do not want to be a strain on resources. However, luckily for us, the university we are going to is quite far south. And although the damage done to the country will effect my travelling plans for after the course, I'm just thankful I can still go.
The other Tsunami:
Tez who unexpectedly came crashing into my life.
I suppose you could call it a whirlwind romance. Except it wasn't that much of a whirlwind or a romance.
I can write this sudden relationship as a series of bullet points. I shall call it:
'A Relationship on Fast Forward'
Silent disco.
Me: drunk.
Tez drunk.
I flirted with Tez over bar.
I kissed Tez over bar.
*Couple of hours later*
Bumped into each other by the bar.
(And this is where it gets hazy)
'You want to make out now?'
'Okay'
And thus a relationship was formed.
Okay it didn't quite happen like that :)
But the point is we sort of became immediately inseparable.
I don't know whether it is because we are emotionally self-destructive. Or genuinely liked each other. Or my loneliness got the better of me and I clung to the first person who gave me attention. But we got together and are staying that way for a little while (apparently :P).
So yeah.
That has been my life. Hedonistic. Happy. Loved. (ish)
I'm going to miss you guys.
always yours,
<3
Friday, 25 February 2011
Five.
So since last week I've had a post in the works about nice normal things regarding Japan and excitement etc.
But I had a thought walking through a car-park, with my Mum earlier.
Which is weird considering the thought...
I'm not going to be having any sex for possibly 5 months.
Fuck.
(Or the lack of it.)
Or going to kiss anyone (I deeply assume this, being at a Christian girls university and what not, that there ain't going to be a lot of lip action for me).
What the heck am I going to do?!
As you readers, most probably know out there, I ain't having devastating amounts of intercourse... (That still makes me sound sexually rampant...ummm...)
And my kissing levels are only high when trashed.
But still this is highly traumatic!
So, in conclusion: either my 'Secret Santa' present is going to get hella use (:p) Or I would like to request someone to be my phone sex buddy.
(Reasons why I'm single: Number 6).
But I had a thought walking through a car-park, with my Mum earlier.
Which is weird considering the thought...
I'm not going to be having any sex for possibly 5 months.
Fuck.
(Or the lack of it.)
Or going to kiss anyone (I deeply assume this, being at a Christian girls university and what not, that there ain't going to be a lot of lip action for me).
What the heck am I going to do?!
As you readers, most probably know out there, I ain't having devastating amounts of intercourse... (That still makes me sound sexually rampant...ummm...)
And my kissing levels are only high when trashed.
But still this is highly traumatic!
So, in conclusion: either my 'Secret Santa' present is going to get hella use (:p) Or I would like to request someone to be my phone sex buddy.
(Reasons why I'm single: Number 6).
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Four and a Half.
X,
Another trip to London occurred this week. My life comprises of trains. Commuting. Forwards. Backwards. Rarely sideways. But I like the tube. I like the rush. The rush of blood to your ears like a mini aeroplane 'pop'. When you slide down the steep escalator into the overtly synthetic light, into the warmth of other peoples air and the safe feeling of encasement. I like riding the tube alone. I like watching other people. Checking out what they are wearing. Especially shoes. I love seeing people’s shoes on the tube. Because you can look at those one pair of trodden down shoes and know something of what it is like to walk in their steps. It’s knowing a part of that person and how they want to present themselves to the outside world, from that one piece of footwear. Tubes and shoes. Movement and Life.
Every time I go to London I get a pathetic sense of achievement. I love the idea of doing something by myself, coping an entire day in a city in which I only know pockets of it. I hope that is what Japan is like (I say Japan as an entirety as I still don't know quite where I'm going etc. etc.). I can't wait to find pockets/ make my own pockets of knowledge there. There is a line in a film, or a book, where the character walks around the block, spreading their knowledge of the area. By doing this they make it their place. From that they can extend until they can make it an adventure. They make their journey an extension of home. That's how I make/want to make a place my own and 'safe' in my head. This is how I plan to make Japan a home for me, at least for a little while. Because, when you think about it, you always take the same routes. The quickest. The safest. The cleanest. But when you don't have a direction, that is often the best part. Sometimes you need a point of reference, a starting point, somewhere to recognise and begin and that's okay. I need to remind myself sometimes that it is okay to get lost in a small space and let the small space get bigger through wandering and experience. It doesn't make me any less brave to start with a small space.
It is all to do with bravery in my head, you see.
Maybe I'm making mountains out of molehills. But everyone is scared of something in the great unknown. Of a way of getting lost.
When I was 18 my Dad dropped me off in the middle of France on my own at 8am. I speak a minuscule amount of French. It was light. Through the streets it was a beautiful French carnival atmosphere of bustling body carnage. A marathon was being run through the streets on the edge of the city. A carboot, which sprawled over the entire town, over the river, overflowing into the suburbs, was on. Even that is an understatement of epic proportions of how all encompassing this market was (if you have ever been to a real flea market/carboot you will understand: On the same trip I walked alongside approximately 2 miles of carboot on one road. That road crossed the border between France and Belgium. I thought that was pretty cool). The streets were jammed, spreading out over this entire city were stalls, tarpaulin laid down on the ground and people were sifting through each other’s wares. There was the normative oddmix of peoples lifestyle leftovers, antiques and shops which had extended onto the pavement, their faded trinkets screaming to be brought. Spread out over an entire city, inhabitants, people, moving bodies. Don't think of Winchester. Don't think of Chichester. Think of the town square as the reference point. The middle of the city. a town hall on one side, shops surrounding each other one, streets running off in all different directions from these. Streets begetting streets. Teaming in one direction were the ‘high street ‘shops. Every one of them seemed to be in the middle of a chaotic sale (Imagine if everything in primark was half price and I had £100. Enough said). I literally struggled in and out of shops, my elbow crowd control skills coming into their own. I cajoled and left.
And then I wandered.
(Whenever I hear that word ('wandered') I think of the phrase 'not all who wander are lost'. That phrase always makes me feel horribly sad. It's a contradiction in my head, actually. Because, equally, it gives me great hope. That by wandering, I'll find something without searching.)
So, anyway, being the insignificant bug I was then, left on my own for 6 hours, in a town I could barely pronounce the name of, I called home. (That is a lie.) I texted the boy I was in love with. Because I was scared. And the cold sun was chilling me to sit on a bench in the shadow of a cathedral. And I wrote the poetry of how I was feeling. Alone but part of something so much greater. Hope. I wanted to share it with someone. I have this urge to do things/share things because I never get excited for anything. (I’m not excited for Japan. I'm too used to being let down. If you don't get excited, you don't get upset when it doesn't work out. That's what I pretend anyway. So whenever someone offers to come visit me in Japan I get so hopeful and so sad because I know it won't come to pass [hold on to your kite]). So in conclusion: I’m scared. But I know I will be okay. Because I can do this.
yours always.
Another trip to London occurred this week. My life comprises of trains. Commuting. Forwards. Backwards. Rarely sideways. But I like the tube. I like the rush. The rush of blood to your ears like a mini aeroplane 'pop'. When you slide down the steep escalator into the overtly synthetic light, into the warmth of other peoples air and the safe feeling of encasement. I like riding the tube alone. I like watching other people. Checking out what they are wearing. Especially shoes. I love seeing people’s shoes on the tube. Because you can look at those one pair of trodden down shoes and know something of what it is like to walk in their steps. It’s knowing a part of that person and how they want to present themselves to the outside world, from that one piece of footwear. Tubes and shoes. Movement and Life.
Every time I go to London I get a pathetic sense of achievement. I love the idea of doing something by myself, coping an entire day in a city in which I only know pockets of it. I hope that is what Japan is like (I say Japan as an entirety as I still don't know quite where I'm going etc. etc.). I can't wait to find pockets/ make my own pockets of knowledge there. There is a line in a film, or a book, where the character walks around the block, spreading their knowledge of the area. By doing this they make it their place. From that they can extend until they can make it an adventure. They make their journey an extension of home. That's how I make/want to make a place my own and 'safe' in my head. This is how I plan to make Japan a home for me, at least for a little while. Because, when you think about it, you always take the same routes. The quickest. The safest. The cleanest. But when you don't have a direction, that is often the best part. Sometimes you need a point of reference, a starting point, somewhere to recognise and begin and that's okay. I need to remind myself sometimes that it is okay to get lost in a small space and let the small space get bigger through wandering and experience. It doesn't make me any less brave to start with a small space.
It is all to do with bravery in my head, you see.
Maybe I'm making mountains out of molehills. But everyone is scared of something in the great unknown. Of a way of getting lost.
When I was 18 my Dad dropped me off in the middle of France on my own at 8am. I speak a minuscule amount of French. It was light. Through the streets it was a beautiful French carnival atmosphere of bustling body carnage. A marathon was being run through the streets on the edge of the city. A carboot, which sprawled over the entire town, over the river, overflowing into the suburbs, was on. Even that is an understatement of epic proportions of how all encompassing this market was (if you have ever been to a real flea market/carboot you will understand: On the same trip I walked alongside approximately 2 miles of carboot on one road. That road crossed the border between France and Belgium. I thought that was pretty cool). The streets were jammed, spreading out over this entire city were stalls, tarpaulin laid down on the ground and people were sifting through each other’s wares. There was the normative oddmix of peoples lifestyle leftovers, antiques and shops which had extended onto the pavement, their faded trinkets screaming to be brought. Spread out over an entire city, inhabitants, people, moving bodies. Don't think of Winchester. Don't think of Chichester. Think of the town square as the reference point. The middle of the city. a town hall on one side, shops surrounding each other one, streets running off in all different directions from these. Streets begetting streets. Teaming in one direction were the ‘high street ‘shops. Every one of them seemed to be in the middle of a chaotic sale (Imagine if everything in primark was half price and I had £100. Enough said). I literally struggled in and out of shops, my elbow crowd control skills coming into their own. I cajoled and left.
And then I wandered.
(Whenever I hear that word ('wandered') I think of the phrase 'not all who wander are lost'. That phrase always makes me feel horribly sad. It's a contradiction in my head, actually. Because, equally, it gives me great hope. That by wandering, I'll find something without searching.)
So, anyway, being the insignificant bug I was then, left on my own for 6 hours, in a town I could barely pronounce the name of, I called home. (That is a lie.) I texted the boy I was in love with. Because I was scared. And the cold sun was chilling me to sit on a bench in the shadow of a cathedral. And I wrote the poetry of how I was feeling. Alone but part of something so much greater. Hope. I wanted to share it with someone. I have this urge to do things/share things because I never get excited for anything. (I’m not excited for Japan. I'm too used to being let down. If you don't get excited, you don't get upset when it doesn't work out. That's what I pretend anyway. So whenever someone offers to come visit me in Japan I get so hopeful and so sad because I know it won't come to pass [hold on to your kite]). So in conclusion: I’m scared. But I know I will be okay. Because I can do this.
yours always.
Monday, 7 February 2011
Four.
Jingle-Bell-Rock,
This will be the third time I try and write this post. The first I deleted. The second I have saved in front of me. The third is going to be a combination of the first two attempts.
Normally writing comes easy. I think it's because I can write how I am actually feeling/thinking. But that may be the problem, in the fact, I don't know how much to censor and how much to reveal.
I mentioned last time that there are sad pieces in my head. They come, they go. And I think the posts will reflect that.
I am already being left behind. I see jokes I'm not part of. Events I'm not invited to. So I push people away because I am afraid of being left behind. I jump before I'm pushed.
And I'm not waving, I'm drowning.
(Regina Spektor: Eet.)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reality: So it has all been go in regards to Japan: Certificate of Eligibility through and the other thing I needed (yeah I've forgotten what it's called, but the important thing is I have it!). So this week entails a visit to the Japanese embassy in Laaannnndaaaan to do final visa things which means I can FINALLY book my flights. Which means by next week I need to have a plan of when I go, when I come back and where I'm going between those two 'whens'. Wank. :)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So un-suprisingly I have not even touched the topic I wanted to cover in this post. So I believe you will get a 4.5 in the next couple of days which will go into the London journey I just came back from and how that relates to coping in Japan :)
yours.
This will be the third time I try and write this post. The first I deleted. The second I have saved in front of me. The third is going to be a combination of the first two attempts.
Normally writing comes easy. I think it's because I can write how I am actually feeling/thinking. But that may be the problem, in the fact, I don't know how much to censor and how much to reveal.
I mentioned last time that there are sad pieces in my head. They come, they go. And I think the posts will reflect that.
I am already being left behind. I see jokes I'm not part of. Events I'm not invited to. So I push people away because I am afraid of being left behind. I jump before I'm pushed.
And I'm not waving, I'm drowning.
(Regina Spektor: Eet.)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reality: So it has all been go in regards to Japan: Certificate of Eligibility through and the other thing I needed (yeah I've forgotten what it's called, but the important thing is I have it!). So this week entails a visit to the Japanese embassy in Laaannnndaaaan to do final visa things which means I can FINALLY book my flights. Which means by next week I need to have a plan of when I go, when I come back and where I'm going between those two 'whens'. Wank. :)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So un-suprisingly I have not even touched the topic I wanted to cover in this post. So I believe you will get a 4.5 in the next couple of days which will go into the London journey I just came back from and how that relates to coping in Japan :)
yours.
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
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)
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)
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