Friday, September 30, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.363

Basically, there’s no custom in Japan to celebrate Halloween. But as a retail scheme, it has become a popular event. More and more stores and restaurants have had Halloween decorations in recent years. I had thought it happened only in urban areas and I wouldn’t see them in a rural area I newly moved in. On the contrary, people here celebrate Halloween zealously, with much more passion than in the city. Although there are only a small number of stores on the main street, they started the decorations in early September, which was as early as in Tokyo Disneyland. In some shops, they have more decorations than their merchandise. I wonder why they like Halloween so much. Come to think of it, I find too many spider webs across the town. Because the town is small and sparsely populated, it’s sometimes spooky and looks like a ghost town. Also, it has so many graves for its population. Maybe it was easy for people living here to adapt themselves to an event like Halloween. Walking around the town, I feel as if I was in a Halloween town with natural decorations…

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.362

As it’s near to my birthday, I remembered my sixteenth birthday. I had been trying to be popular all the years in junior high and high school, which was excruciating because I had been acting someone totally different from me. By the time I became sixteen, I had been the class clown. On my birthday, a lot of friends brought their presents to school for me and I received them even from the girls in other classes that I didn’t know so well. I got the biggest number of presents of my life that year. I came home with full of bags and opened them with my mother. When we were done and looking at all the gifts, my mother made an unreasonable suggestion. She said that I should give one of them to my younger sister. Since they were my birthday gifts, I said no. Her suggestion grew into an order. I didn’t understand why my sister could have one of them on my birthday. My mother explained it was because she felt pity for my sister who didn’t have any while I had plenty. To me who kept insisting it was my birthday, my mother began to threaten that there would be a punishment from God for this. I gave in and my sister took a present away from me. In Japan, if someone gives you something, you must give something back to him or her later as a courtesy. In my case, a record amount of presents meant a record amount of requital. For the following year, I’d had to give a birthday gift to each one of them who gave me one. My monthly allowance wasn’t enough because I had a few or more birthdays in a month. It was a horrible aftermath with struggling to raise money. Being the class clown never paid…

Friday, September 23, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.361

Since the earthquake in Japan, the power companies had requested their customers to save on electricity, as the supply was short. Companies, offices and homes alike had been willing to comply with the request for half a year. It had been a stressful time for me because I had never had any intention of complying with such a ridiculous request. Before the earthquake, the power companies had repeated the nuclear power plant would never fail no matter what happened, which I'd never believed. And after the earthquake, they made their customers pay the price for their own debacle. I had no idea why people and stores obediently turned off the lights at nighttime although saving the power was meaningless except for the peak hours of demand. In my apartment building, one of two elevators, a Jacuzzi and a sauna in the spa had been stopped, and the lights in and outside the building had been limited. Other residents had voluntarily turned off the lights in the communal spaces such as the spa. I'd been fed up with a dark, gloomy atmosphere created by unnecessary effort. Two weeks ago, that annoying request from the power companies finally got lifted. The elevator, the Jacuzzi, the sauna and the lights all came back on. The spa resumed being operated in the morning hours as well. I was so glad everything got back to normal. But I noticed that not everybody felt that way. In the lobby, one of the residents was asking to turn off some of the lights. In the spa, some residents still turned off the lights eagerly. On TV, people were talking how united they had felt while saving on electricity as if they wanted to do that again. Now I found out what all the fuss was about. Japanese people were saving the power not because the power companies asked them to. It was because they liked to do the same thing at the same time all together, and, simply liked to turn off the lights...

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.360

Until I moved into my new apartment, one day had had 25 hours for me. For instance, I got up at 7 a.m. in the morning and went to sleep at 11 p.m. one day, I got up at 8 a.m. and went to sleep at 12 a.m. the next day, and did 9 a.m. and 1 a.m. the day after. It was a 25-hour cycle. What started me living on the odd cycle was that I used to fly back and forth between Japan and North America frequently. The time difference would hinder me from keep regular hours and disrupt my health. When I decided to let my body clock control, it found a 25-hour cycle as a perfect solution for me. I’d lived that way more than 10 years and been remarkably healthy without even having a cold. That the hours of rising and bedtime shifted one hour a day every day meant I spent the whole daytime sleeping and the nighttime working at some point. Or, I walked in the dark, sleeping town to have a morning special at a 24-hour-open restaurant as my lunch and enjoyed a beautiful morning glow before dinner. It had fitted me so well. But, on the day I moved here, my body clock somehow adjusted to a normal 24-hour cycle for a day all of a sudden. Since then, I’ve gotten up and gone to sleep at the fixed times every day, and still stayed healthy. I can’t figure out what happened to me but my day is one hour shorter than before for sure. I feel like I’m losing one hour steadily each day…

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.359

A relaxing way for me is being in a quiet place, alone. When I use the spa in my apartment building, I aim at a quiet time. There seems to be a certain wave of people somehow. While nobody had been in the spa until a little while ago, a few residents rush in and leave all at once and the place returns to be empty again. When there are other residents in the spa, I try to get in the hot tub or the Jacuzzi or the sauna alone because I don’t like to make conversation. I wait in a shower for people to get out, and take a bath alone. If someone comes in the tub while I’m there, I get out as soon as possible. On the contrary, some people don’t like to be alone in the spa. They wait for someone to get in the tub and join her. The other day, I inadvertently stepped in the sauna when someone was there. From the sauna’s small window I couldn’t see her who was lying on the blind corner. She leaped at conversation from the moment I entered and kept talking to me vigorously. I was watching an ever-slower-moving hand of the wall sauna clock, with occasional ‘uh-huh’s and ‘really’s for her. I gradually admired her stamina to be able to keep chattering away in such a hot, humid condition like a sauna. When I stepped out there, she followed right after me, still talking. It’s not so easy to relax in the spa either…

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.358

Nearly four months have passed since I moved in my new apartment. While I’m still unpacking countless cardboard boxes, I’d been working for handmade soundproof walls in my bedroom/studio that borders on the neighboring apartment with my partner’s help. Since I overestimated reinforced concrete of which my apartment building was made, my life in a quiet environment solely depends on our handmade walls of flattened cardboard boxes, soundproof polyurethane and soundproof vinyl sheets. We’ve finished the whole four walls and the floor. To my disappointment, our soundproofing couldn’t resolve the clanging noise that came from some pipe. The source is still unknown but it’s a weekly thing that wakes me up every Thursday. Also the footsteps and other noises form the room above easily disturb my sleep. And a new comer has arrived. A flush noise in a drainpipe has begun to be heard since mid-August. Those seem to come from the ceiling of my room that is a week spot for handmade soundproofing. Now I have to resort to the last measure. Putting my bed into a big container made of many drapes and boards and sleeping in it, which I used to do in my old apartment before I moved out. It’s like Dracula sleeping in a little larger coffin. Although to sleep out of that coffin-like thing in a quiet room was one of my main purposes of moving in here, I’m about to end up being no better than before. All my enormous amount of effort and time to move didn’t pay to get a quiet life. It’s so hard to secure a good night’s sleep…

Friday, September 9, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.357

Here, I make an embarrassing confession. I hadn’t been able to ride a bicycle without training wheels until the fifth grade. I always believe that riding a bicycle successfully for the first time should be like the one in the movie ‘Kramer vs. Kramer’ where a father played by Dustin Hoffman jumps for joy and takes a picture of his son’s first ride. Sadly, parents in real life are too defective. My parents used to be farmers who worked out on the field from dawn to night. They hardly took a day off and when they did, it was a rainy day. During winter when their work was a little less hectic, they would bring crops from the field to a communal wash place by the small park near our home. They spent the rest of the day washing the crops by hand with their long booted feet soaked in freezing water. My father used a short interval between the field and the wash place to teach me to ride a bicycle. He couldn’t spare more time and I wasn’t a fast learner. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I became the only one among the kids of around the same age in the neighborhood who couldn’t ride a bike. One day, my mother took me to the park with my sister on her way to work. Because she told us to bring our bicycles, I thought she would teach me this time. But she spotted a couple of older kids in the park, asked them to teach me and rushed into the wash place. With the kids’ help, my younger sister by four years got to ride a bike without training wheels, while I couldn’t. The kids laughed at me. When my mother poked her head around the door of the wash place and asked them how it went, they said, “She’s no good! Her sister rode it first!” Much later, I was already close to my then-best friend Junko and took courage to ask her to teach me. She helped me in the park earnestly until it went dark. As it was time to go home, I tried one last time under the dim light of a mercury lamp. And I finally made it. Behind me, I heard Junko shouting for joy, “She’s riding! She made it! Hooray!” When I stopped and looked back, I saw her face flush with happiness. I miss her. More than I miss my parents...

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.356

My once archrival at the private abacus school, Junko, was from outside the old families that dominated the neighborhood. Although we started the school at the same time and practiced an abacus sitting on the floor side by side sharing one long low wooden desk twice a week, I had never talked with her. I ignored her because I was a detestable brat from one of the ruling old families and looked down on her. Also that the neighbors always talked about how pretty she was contributed to my hostility toward her, since I was ugly. One evening at the abacus school, I had a nosebleed during a timed session preparing for a certificate examination. As an exam simulation, the timed sessions were serious battles with time, and of course, with other students. I couldn’t afford the time to treat my nosebleed but it was impossible to continue the session. I had to withdraw the session and was in trouble finding neither tissues nor a handkerchief in my bag. While I was in the mess, I felt sure that Junko must have been so happy to see me like this and to beat me on this session. But suddenly, I heard her abacus reset abruptly next to me. She put her abacus aside and began to rummage through her bag. She gave up a sure win on the session by withdrawing for me, and handed me tissues gently. I couldn’t believe how she could be this kind to someone constantly evil. Shortly after that, I began to talk to her and we became best friends. In her notebook, I often found a date written in the margin, which she said was the day I first spoke to her. She had cherished the day as one of her happiest moments. At elementary school, she would rush to me as soon as she saw me arrive at the school and help me carry my bag. We were so close. But because I went on to a private junior high school while she did to a public one, and I quit the abacus school, we drifted apart. Then I heard her family had moved out. I don’t know where she went and haven’t heard anything of her...

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Hidemi's Rambling No.355

At the private abacus school I attended in my childhood, my archrival was a girl named Junko. She was one of five other third-graders that joined the school with me. The abacus calculation association held a certificate examination three times a year and the official grade was given on passing. The smaller the class number, the higher the grade. After we learned basic skills for half a year, we started to practice timed sessions to simulate a certificate examination. Our first examination was for the sixth class that was the lowest grade. Out of six newcomers, only Junko and I passed. While other kids usually passed the exam after a few trials, both of us passed each exam easily on our first trial and attained the third class exceptionally fast. It was believed that someone who had reached the third class without a single failure would fail to get the second class for many trials. I was conceited enough to be confident to pass for the second class on my first trial. But the belief was true and both Junko and I failed the exam for the first time. Then, the struggle began. The second class was an impregnable fortress. We kept failing together exam after exam. Other kids had started whispering which one of us could pass first. Since no student of the school held the second class, I really got into it to prove that I was the best. On my fourth trial, I was warming up at home with my father’s help guiltily while keeping Junko waiting, who kindly dropped by my house to go to the exam together. The sly attempt worked and only I passed. For the first time, I held the higher class than Junko. With the whole school shouting in surprise on the announcement, Junko gave me a forced smile and said, “Congratulations.” I can’t forget that smile. I was burned out completely and quit the school. Junko continued, passed for the second class on the next exam, and achieved the first class eventually. It seemed I won one time, but after all, it was Junko who won…