Tossing the ballot

I have exactly 9 days left in Tokyo, and there is so much to be done before it hits zero. Tomorrow, 29 July, is election day, but relatives must be visited. So today, my mum, step-dad, and I went to pre-election day voting. They went through first, filling out the necessary forms and submitting their ballots. But, the staff curiously looked at my eligibility form and started discussing amongst themselves. Then one of the older men dialed his phone, murmured into it for about 30 seconds, and then looked up at me.

"You can't vote here."

I wondered why he was blurting out such an absurdity, and I realized what they were referring to. I had moved to Setagaya city just last month, but had lived in Fuchu city up until then. The voting system is set up so that you must have lived in your voting district for at least three months before the voting date. Essentially, in order to vote, I would have to go back to Fuchu city to vote - something I'm just too lazy to do. The policy is to keep people from moving into cities in order to establish a political party majority in that area.

So I ended up not voting. Oh well.
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Giving in to Magic

So after years of friends nudging me to read the series, I gave in. After all, the final book just came out, and this means that I won't be ever needing to line up at 12am in front of bookstores to hold in hand the freshly printed copies of the latest Harry Potter.

Although - I must admit the movies are a lot more exciting. The book has more cohesion to it and I enjoy the backstories, things seem to make more sense now that I'm actually reading the books. Books 1, 2, and 3 in 4 days.. I'd say that's not too bad.
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Feast @ Chinatown

> Our lunch.

Despite what you may think, we finished this rather large meal between the three of us. The dessert was a bit of a downer, but otherwise, the food was fantastic. Especially the sweet and sour pork. Yum.

On a totally different topic, two Japanese absurdities of note:

1. In my Japanese (synonymous for 'overtly polite' and 'conservative'?) telemarketing office in the middle of Tokyo, an A4-sized, handmade poster of Jack Sparrow with the words "FUCK YOU" written in capital block lettering.


2. Around 11pm, on one of the most centrally located and no doubt, one of the busiest roads in Tokyo (Route 246), a man in his twenties driving his moped while reading a comic book.

Crazy. Just crazy.
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Favorite commercial series in Japan

This is a Japanese commercial for a car insurance company. The three koalas rock it out to advertise; notice what become of their big noses.
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Days go by.

When days 'just' go by, they turn out to be longer days than one would wish. On such days I end up thinking and thinking, pondering endlessly about things that have passed, things that are, and things to come. On occasion I'll get up to make some coffee, but then I am back on my couch, gazing somewhere beyond the TV screen or the page in my book.

Of course, nothing is solved, nothing new is revealed to me. There are no answers that appear in front of me after these gazing/thinking sessions, other than the constant realization of their sheer futility.

In less than a month I'm off and out of Japan - the 'home' I will probably not set foot in again for a while. I should be excited, and a distant part of me is. But lately, I get the feeling that this summer will be the end of me. It's a crazy thought, I know. I sense a faint inevitability - an inescapable, and inexplicable, death, really - lying ahead of me this summer, wherever in the world I happen to be. It is as if I was never meant to exist very long, and that if I live through this summer there is something very delicate and large and invisible in this world, yet beyond human comprehension, that I would be destroying. I know not the details of all these thoughts; it is, simply put, just a gut feeling.

But, gut feelings - they are whimsical, in an almost uncanny, grotesque, yet agreeable way. This isn't a negative feeling necessarily, but rather an intrepid acceptance of its inevitability. There's nothing I can do about it, and somewhere in these past few weeks I've given up trying to resist it or finding a way around it. I have to go. I have to go to South America, I have to go to Peru - this is all I know. And funnily enough, I can't see myself beyond it - I can't imagine myself in Pittsburgh, in Toronto, in New York, or in London. Everyone tells me it's all going to be great and I'm going to have an amazing time this summer, but my gut feelings say, "You might, but it won't last very long." And any attempt to tell myself otherwise feels wrong, like I am blatantly tricking myself into thinking such a thing.
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Crusing through Izu

> Reina and Fei trying to figure out the navigation system.

I am happiest when I'm in the countryside - I confirmed this while driving through the Izu area with Reina and Fei yesterday. I was reminded of Canada and felt, again, how much I miss it.

Very little was planned for this drive and I actually didn't really know where we were going. But it didn't matter because in less than 2 hours there were green trees and hills and rice patties extended, far beyond my viewable horizon. Our first stop was at Atami, a popular beach town in the summers for the Kanto Japanese. When we hopped off our rented car we felt a lashing whip of heat and humidity; if it were a bit hotter and sunnier it would've been great beach weather. Yet, Monday noons in early-July aren't considered a part of summer, so it was completely empty. Unfortunately this also meant that many of the stores and restaurants weren't open. But, we didn't fail to treat ourselves to an outstanding lunch!

> The Atami beach.

> Our lunch!

> Reina and Fei enjoying their post-lunch, chilled green tea.

> On our way towards Shuzenji.

A very Japanese landscape.<

We continued on towards Shuzenji, a small onsen town located more inland, and was thus a lot cooler. On our way we stopped at a winery, built on top of a hill. The uber-European establishment literally appeared out of nowhere as we veered right from the asphalt pathway and through the grape fields. We even had some wine to taste - yes, we were enjoying our rather mature and elegant cruise!

> Still on our way to the winery.

> The winery.

> Fei and I and the grapefields.

> Reina and Fei tasting some good wine!

Shuzenji was a small town full of character. Again, being low-season, there were very few tourists around, save the one or two bus tours full of grannies. It was, incidentally, the town's 1200th anniversary, and the town's subtly closed establishments seemed as if they were charging up their energy for its upcoming high-season. We wandered through the town and our two highlights were the delicious Japanese desserts we got our hands on, and the ashi-yu - a small, hot-spring pool where you sit and dip your feet (only). Reina, who apparently was talking about ashiyu's all week, had her wish come true! Our final stop was at a relatively random waterfall that was 5 minutes' drive from Shuzenji.

> Successful group picture using the timer function.

> We love trees.

> Shuzenji temple

> Fei and her dessert.

> Our feet in the ashiyu.

> Us and Asahi-dake.
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Eloquently put.

Her mother seemed to know about the gulf that separated how she lived from what she was. And what was she anyway? She was of this place and she was not of this place, and though she might desire to be an American it was clear, as her mother said, that she had the face of America's enemy and would always have such a face. She would never feel at home here among the hakujin, and at the same time she loved the woods and fields of home as dearly as anyone could. She had one foot in her parents' home, and from there it was not far at all to the Japan they had left behind years before. She could feel how this country far across the ocean pulled on her and lived inside her despite her wishes to the contrary; it was something she could not deny. And at the same time her feet were planted on San Piedro Island, and she wanted only her own strawberry farm, the fragrance of the fields and the cedar trees, and to live simply in this place forever.

p. 206, in Snow Falling on Cedars by David Guterson.
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Who said this was MY year??

That's a good question. It was a magazine. More specifically, it was a very large astrology section in not one, not two, but three magazines I was browsing through in December 2006, while getting a hair trim. They all unanimously declared that 2007 would be a fantastic year for a person with the astrology sign of Sagittarius, an A blood-type, and born in the year of the boar. Yes, yes, and yes - that would be ME.

It was indeed a good start; I'll admit that much. The 'reach'-school offer of admission, visiting then-boyfriend, more graduate school acceptances, and a really fun job. But, it didn't last very long. Acceptance was great but this meant I would be $20G in debt. What I thought was a very nice, reasonable, fun relationship ended with my heart shredded by a meat-mincer called MSN. The really fun job ended (just an end of a contract, actually) and was followed by a final tax deduction.

I'm not done yet.

Thanks to my friend Reina, I have a pseudo part-time job that keeps me occupied in the early morning hours. It's great; I like waking up early and getting the day started. I spend a good 3 hours at the gym in the afternoons, taking two yoga classes and spending 40 minutes on this uber-high tech treadmill complete with a TV screen, a headphone, and cable channels (that includes MTV but unfortunately no Grey's Anatomy episodes). But the thought of the British Embassy taking $250 from me to issue my student visa, and the reminder that I'll be $20G in debt by the end of 2008 linger perpetually at the back of my head. Actually, these weren't just thoughts; they were a gunpoint at the back of my head. So, I gathered all the self-motivational energy I could muster up in me and applied for short-term, easy jobs.

My first attempt ended in a pathetic, anti-climatic poof. The company was looking for temporary waitresses to work at major hotels in Tokyo. They advertised that short-term applications were happily welcomed. I applied, went in for an interview, and was told that I would receive a call the next day from the hotel I would be working at. The next day went by, the second day went by, and there was no call. I called the temp agency to inquire, and the response I got was a pathetic excuse: "Oh, uhh... umm.. I'm sorry, there's been some communication difficulties with the hotels.. it's just that.. well, you know.. you've applied for a short-term position and they don't want someone short-term." And I thought I read they welcomed short-term applications??

My second attempt ended with an incredulous statement. If it were only permitted, it would've ended in a huge laughter of ridicule from me. This was yet another temp agency that was looking for short-term applicants. I arrived a little early for my interview at a random apartment flat-turned-office in Omotesando (in hindsight, slightly sketchy), and was invited in because the person scheduled before me was late. The interview was fine until the very end, when the interviewer - a man in his late thirties, who had, until then, been speaking as if his most adorable pet iguana had died that morning because his cat ate it (or something) - suddenly changed his tone to a condescending one. I didn't remember giving him any reason to feel that superior to me, but nonetheless, he started suggesting that I improve my interview skills. I thought, "Sure, I'm up for self-improvement," and in the next moment, he said (in Japanese, of course) "You've got your shit together," BUT in the most negative tone possible. He said that I was such a responsibly organized person but said it in such a way that implied its inappropriateness. This blew me away. It wasn't that I was 'too serious' (a very common criticism that flies my way), but that I was somehow 'too responsible'. "I mean, you can't just be a brainless goof-ball either, you know? But yeah, you certainly have things together in your life." And what, I shouldn't?

My third attempt was a lot more straightforward. I applied for a job that would call people up to ask where they stood in terms of the upcoming (and delayed) election. The interview consisted of a verbal component, and a 'technical' component where you were tested for your kanji-reading and math calculation abilities, and for your common sense. I kind of understood the objective for a kanji-reading section and a math section; I suppose they don't want to be hiring pea-brained idiots for the job. But, why they needed us reading kanji vocabulary that we would never use (and that an average, Japanese person could not read) on a 4-day, basically telemarketing job, was beyond me.

The more interesting part of the 'technical' component was, of course, this 'common sense' test. How do you test one's common sense? Easy - just like any other test: multiple choice. One question had the following prompt:

5. You and your co-worker have plans to dine together after work. However, you finish your job earlier. What do you do?

a. Finishing your job early was your own effort, so you sit at your desk and read a magazine until your co-worker finishes.
b. You leave the office and wait somewhere else.
c. You leave the office area and wait in the break room.
d. You help your co-worker finish his/her job.
e. You talk to the boss and ask to let your co-worker leave early.

Does it really make a difference between waiting "somewhere else" and waiting "in the break room"? I mean, there probably isn't one 'right' answer to these multiple choice questions, and the quiz was probably made more to gauge one's relative sense of the common, but still. Wouldn't a few more questions during the 'vocal' interview part suffice? And really, is an acute level of common sense all that necessary for a 4-day, temporary, short-term, telemarketing job? Despite the online test having a typing section - which I would deem far more relevant - we did not end up taking that part of the test. Why??

The fact that I probably failed the kanji-reading portion of the interview foreshadows my most imminent unemployment (I find out on an online portal on saturday morning - kind of like finding out whether I got accepted to school). The cherry-on-top occurred today at the UK Embassy. I submitted my application for my student UK visa, and they took $250. I received my passport back with the visa printed inside it today, only to find out that they've printed my passport number erroneously on it. Now I have to send it back to them so they can re-issue me a visa. STUPID EMBASSY!!!! What the hell did I pay $250 for?

So as far as I am concerned, the magazines and their astrological predictions lied. 2007 isn't my year. I mean, it's an okay year. But it's not a great year and no where near fantastic. At this rate of luck, I could very well die in Peru, perhaps in the face of a real gunpoint. Now, that would make too much sense.

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