Sylvia's Journal

The second day of the workshop was slow because I was sleepy and had gotten up at 3 AM, not able to return to sleep. So by the time we started (9:30) I had already half a day behind me. I tried to yawn inconspicuously.

T. started the day off with her exercise regime that has an untranslatable name and that requires a lot of sound making that are also not translatable – they have some meaning in Japanese but she couldn’t give me any more precision. We rubbed and shook our hands, shoulders, belly and each other’s backs – the kind of thing you couldn’t possible do in Afghanistan in mixed company. There was again much laughing. I concentrated on making the right sounds.

And then all of a sudden the event was over and check in messages appeared on my computer screen. We had a quick debrief with the course coordinator and then headed for a restaurant with about half the group. We had a separate room, good for two hours of eating and having a good time. It was one of those rooms with a low table but, thank heavens, a well underneath so I didn’t have to bend my stiff knees.

Ordering goes electronically. A console with all the items, drink and food, allows for immediate communication with the kitchen and near instant service. I had deferred the ordering to the locals and enjoyed all the delicacies that came out way: Korean potato sandwiches with something that had the texture of cheese food on top, a plate of sashimi (especially for me I think), something that tasted like tiny little knuckles, breaded, a variety of tiny bamboo skewers with various meats on them and accompanied by a sambal like substance, an egg salad (salad with pieces of eggs). It was like a tapas experience – everyone picked at the food while engaged in very animated conversation, occasionally translated. And then of course there was lots of beer and sake which made the conversation even more spirited.

I collapsed once again before I could write in my diary – my internal clock is so utterly confused that once again I woke at 3 AM and was unable to go back to sleep.

This morning I went for a long walk in the neighborhood and saw Japan get to work. Works starts late, between 9 and 9:30 – it is a time to avoid the metro. I remember seeing those images of people being pushed into the cars. I am told this is still happening. So I stayed above ground and watch endless masses, the men dressed more or less alike, the women in endless variations – hurrying into skyscrapers – it could have been New York.

Tessa had asked for Japanese paper so that was my last mission in Japan. I found a paper store that has nine floors, it is, apparently THE paper store (Ito-ya) and clearly a place where I could lose Axel easily if he ever found it. It had the most exquisite paper collection (and that was only on floor 6) I have ever seen with sheets ranging from small (copy paper size) to very large (two flipcharts side by side) and from about a dollar a piece to over 50 dollars apiece. It was very easy to spent 60 dollars on not a whole lot of paper.

And now I am in the Delta lounge at Narita, hovering around the area where a lady in Delta uniform periodically places a tray of sushi rolls. They disappear within a minute so one has to be alert. I am not the only one hovering but I was successful a few times. I had my last Sake and am now trying to prepare myself psychologically for the long trip back, with two days that will collapse into one – hoping that the plane is a little empty in the section where I am seated.