(no subject)
i don't know if it happens to everyone, but when i listen to certain songs, i get a flashback of the time i took mdma and leapt up and down in a field in turin, my head feeling like a kaleidoscope filled with lurex and hi-octane petrol, my tongue covered in the accidentally-leaked contents of a glow stick necklace and practically swallowing my own tongue for the excitement of hearing technologic and craving water like crack.
or maybe that's just me.
the way mdma lodges musical memories in your brain like a particularly persistent form of glue; again, just me?
so i'm in the safe cocoon of my room, home from a day of immigration office-ing and english teaching, and spiralling out to daft punk on a shot of saké. i had cycled home with the thought of practicing japanese as soon as i got in; a short talk with murphy and the saké put paid to that.
oh, this japanese adventure is so very strange. i came out here with my guts tied up in anticipation of a lonely half year spent inside an office, a friendless guesthouse and an untactile, alien society. how very wrong i was. the UN, no doubt, continues to be a rather dull experience- until i move, some time in the future, to the 'public information' unit instead. but at the very least, i get to speak japanese all day and practice my telephone manner and read internal emails, get invitations to local events and conferences and so on. additionally; as was evident from the get-go, saying 'i interned at the UNHCR in tokyo' has the effect of opening more than a few jaws. potent cv material. teaching english is not as tough or dull as i imagined, either, despite the reticence of a few students. we had a surprisingly fun halloween party on saturday; the subsequent hangover, after dining on okinawan firewater and my body weight in rice crackers and peanuts, was somewhat less fun, it has to be said.
i was surprised by tokyo, though. when i came as a lone tourist two years ago i made my sister promise me that she would kill me if i ever thought it possible to live in japan again; it seemed too much like the japan i had known in fukuoka; close-minded and consumption-obsessed, a concrete city of strangers. now, living here is a different matter. i live as centrally as you can get; i've met a range of weird and wonderful characters, including some spanish-speakers to satisfy my latino leanings, a russian artist who promised me to make a manga character of me in his future project, an entrepreneurial west-virginian flatmate with his fingers in a million pies and businesses... and so on. there is more beauty in tokyo than i thought possible before; in the urban lighting, in the way people put together their outfits, in the rare patches of green, the general japanese aesthetic and the isolated decay.
which brought me to think; what is it i need in each place that i live? while i can see myself staying here for at least a year now, and not leaping from country to country as i had previously anticipated, skipping from barcelona to here and setting up a home environment twice in two months made me wonder what i considered 'essential'. company is obviously a big one; but i have also become very used to my own company. things i crave in each place remain the same, however; i like having a city to wander at any hour of the day or night, art galleries, chance meetings. i desire a bike and vegetable markets and a language that i understand and can push myself to excel in. i require some form of kitchen, although i have impressed myself coping with a toaster-grill and a microwave for more than a month, in lieu of an oven or a hob. [i have to admit that my cravings for a fried egg are as yet unabetted, as well as that for steamed broccoli, but it can wait]. the domestic situation gets slowly more 'elaborate', more settled as time goes on; the towel-rails and clothes racks, the salad spinner and the pedal bins, the throw cushions. i sometimes wonder if in the long four or so years since i backpacked through south america on a dozen back-breaking buses, sleeping on hammock-like beds and subsisting largely on crackers, avocado sandwiches and screwdrivers (with a healthy handful of coca leaves every day), i have become very used to my home comforts, and would find it seriously compromising to attempt the same kind of trip again. i have wondered, also, where the next UN/NGO-related step might be, and whether i might brave darkest africa to allay my middle-class guilt and misanthropic leanings, and what kind of bracing lifestyle might greet me there. oh, and what the lack of alcohol might do to my hyperness.
so, readers, what do you need wherever you go, and particularly when you uproot yourself from one environment to a totally different one? answers on a livejournal postcard please (you too ms. anonymous sonja...)
or maybe that's just me.
the way mdma lodges musical memories in your brain like a particularly persistent form of glue; again, just me?
so i'm in the safe cocoon of my room, home from a day of immigration office-ing and english teaching, and spiralling out to daft punk on a shot of saké. i had cycled home with the thought of practicing japanese as soon as i got in; a short talk with murphy and the saké put paid to that.
oh, this japanese adventure is so very strange. i came out here with my guts tied up in anticipation of a lonely half year spent inside an office, a friendless guesthouse and an untactile, alien society. how very wrong i was. the UN, no doubt, continues to be a rather dull experience- until i move, some time in the future, to the 'public information' unit instead. but at the very least, i get to speak japanese all day and practice my telephone manner and read internal emails, get invitations to local events and conferences and so on. additionally; as was evident from the get-go, saying 'i interned at the UNHCR in tokyo' has the effect of opening more than a few jaws. potent cv material. teaching english is not as tough or dull as i imagined, either, despite the reticence of a few students. we had a surprisingly fun halloween party on saturday; the subsequent hangover, after dining on okinawan firewater and my body weight in rice crackers and peanuts, was somewhat less fun, it has to be said.
i was surprised by tokyo, though. when i came as a lone tourist two years ago i made my sister promise me that she would kill me if i ever thought it possible to live in japan again; it seemed too much like the japan i had known in fukuoka; close-minded and consumption-obsessed, a concrete city of strangers. now, living here is a different matter. i live as centrally as you can get; i've met a range of weird and wonderful characters, including some spanish-speakers to satisfy my latino leanings, a russian artist who promised me to make a manga character of me in his future project, an entrepreneurial west-virginian flatmate with his fingers in a million pies and businesses... and so on. there is more beauty in tokyo than i thought possible before; in the urban lighting, in the way people put together their outfits, in the rare patches of green, the general japanese aesthetic and the isolated decay.
which brought me to think; what is it i need in each place that i live? while i can see myself staying here for at least a year now, and not leaping from country to country as i had previously anticipated, skipping from barcelona to here and setting up a home environment twice in two months made me wonder what i considered 'essential'. company is obviously a big one; but i have also become very used to my own company. things i crave in each place remain the same, however; i like having a city to wander at any hour of the day or night, art galleries, chance meetings. i desire a bike and vegetable markets and a language that i understand and can push myself to excel in. i require some form of kitchen, although i have impressed myself coping with a toaster-grill and a microwave for more than a month, in lieu of an oven or a hob. [i have to admit that my cravings for a fried egg are as yet unabetted, as well as that for steamed broccoli, but it can wait]. the domestic situation gets slowly more 'elaborate', more settled as time goes on; the towel-rails and clothes racks, the salad spinner and the pedal bins, the throw cushions. i sometimes wonder if in the long four or so years since i backpacked through south america on a dozen back-breaking buses, sleeping on hammock-like beds and subsisting largely on crackers, avocado sandwiches and screwdrivers (with a healthy handful of coca leaves every day), i have become very used to my home comforts, and would find it seriously compromising to attempt the same kind of trip again. i have wondered, also, where the next UN/NGO-related step might be, and whether i might brave darkest africa to allay my middle-class guilt and misanthropic leanings, and what kind of bracing lifestyle might greet me there. oh, and what the lack of alcohol might do to my hyperness.
so, readers, what do you need wherever you go, and particularly when you uproot yourself from one environment to a totally different one? answers on a livejournal postcard please (you too ms. anonymous sonja...)