[Mindlessly]
Yesterday, a condensed stack of someone's academic and work life rotated its way to my desk.
Codes for labelling geography, majors in school, marital status.
Then a page of centimeter-sized blocks brought me back to late 2003, when I was the one filling each block with a letter. I couldn't help but compare. Why didn't I take more music classes in university? Or hold advisory posts for international cultural relations? All I did were on the fringe. Music on the side and no responsiblities higher than that of an assistant. Perhaps if I had done what this person-on-paper had done, I could have been a far more effective coordinator than I turned out to be. I suppose I still have three months to prove myself.
The decision is 98% made. The candidate will not be notified of the location until the middle of next month. I wouldn't think much of the distance now and at least I am near Hokkaido, but I suspect slight disappointment on the new person's part.
My first farewell present came this morning, when the local translation/interpreting company president paid a visit to the office. A pair of Kuroishi (a city in the middle of Aomori Prefecture and his hometown) kokeshi dolls, complete with a print-out of an article on the craftsman who made them (a friend of his). My best of picnic buddies received an identical doll. "But I'm Japanese," she wondered why she too received a gift of parting. Up until the moment he explained the reason behind the prevalence of peony on these dolls as well as the Nebuta Festival floats (the flower is the family crest of the Tsugaru Family), I had anticipated him asking me to translate the print-out (despite the fact that he has hundreds of professional translators working for him).
Before yesterday's 6:30p.m. calligraphy lesson, I ran to the local travel agency and asked for quotes. I thought I knew where I was going, but I only asked for half of the journey. "Wait, I'm sorry," I sheepishly corrected my order after the travel agent intern had already spent time searching for Japan-Taiwan tickets. "The destination is Seattle."
Today, I'm finding myself looking at the two entrances of the city hall buildings from another angle (but fighting back to urge to take photos since there were other employees passing through), taking photos of the first lone cherry tree I spotted against the Greek blue sky and the small embellished sewer caps after my second visit to the travel agent. The travel agent who'd helped me with my tickets for Korea and London happened to be there. She said long time no see, and wondered if I'd return to Japan at all after I'd asked for a one-way ticket. One-way tickets sound like final decisions, cutting of connections, eternal good-byes.
In the end, round-trip tickets turned out to be a better deal.
I wonder when the blur in my mind will eventually clear up like today's bizarre weather of wind, rain, hail-like substance disturbing the air while the sun shines.
Codes for labelling geography, majors in school, marital status.
Then a page of centimeter-sized blocks brought me back to late 2003, when I was the one filling each block with a letter. I couldn't help but compare. Why didn't I take more music classes in university? Or hold advisory posts for international cultural relations? All I did were on the fringe. Music on the side and no responsiblities higher than that of an assistant. Perhaps if I had done what this person-on-paper had done, I could have been a far more effective coordinator than I turned out to be. I suppose I still have three months to prove myself.
The decision is 98% made. The candidate will not be notified of the location until the middle of next month. I wouldn't think much of the distance now and at least I am near Hokkaido, but I suspect slight disappointment on the new person's part.
My first farewell present came this morning, when the local translation/interpreting company president paid a visit to the office. A pair of Kuroishi (a city in the middle of Aomori Prefecture and his hometown) kokeshi dolls, complete with a print-out of an article on the craftsman who made them (a friend of his). My best of picnic buddies received an identical doll. "But I'm Japanese," she wondered why she too received a gift of parting. Up until the moment he explained the reason behind the prevalence of peony on these dolls as well as the Nebuta Festival floats (the flower is the family crest of the Tsugaru Family), I had anticipated him asking me to translate the print-out (despite the fact that he has hundreds of professional translators working for him).
Before yesterday's 6:30p.m. calligraphy lesson, I ran to the local travel agency and asked for quotes. I thought I knew where I was going, but I only asked for half of the journey. "Wait, I'm sorry," I sheepishly corrected my order after the travel agent intern had already spent time searching for Japan-Taiwan tickets. "The destination is Seattle."
Today, I'm finding myself looking at the two entrances of the city hall buildings from another angle (but fighting back to urge to take photos since there were other employees passing through), taking photos of the first lone cherry tree I spotted against the Greek blue sky and the small embellished sewer caps after my second visit to the travel agent. The travel agent who'd helped me with my tickets for Korea and London happened to be there. She said long time no see, and wondered if I'd return to Japan at all after I'd asked for a one-way ticket. One-way tickets sound like final decisions, cutting of connections, eternal good-byes.
In the end, round-trip tickets turned out to be a better deal.
I wonder when the blur in my mind will eventually clear up like today's bizarre weather of wind, rain, hail-like substance disturbing the air while the sun shines.