sleepy

Everybody who goes out in Tokyo has three options:
a) head home by midnight on the last subway
b) stay out and hail an extortionate taxi home at 3am
c) stay out til dawn and catch the first subway the next morning.

Most people opt for the cheaper third option but it does mean that there are always some sleepy heads in the clubs who wish they were at home and warmly tucked in bed.

Classy act

Ruth, Matt and I went to see this guy called Ernesto play at a club, he was a brilliant soulful singer who apparently making it big at home. Is this even true? This is just what the promo told us, but boy, he could certainly sing and hold his audience. The club was tiny, and could only house about 100 people so we got a pretty good view of the live performance. Matt managed top do one better and got his email address because Ernesto's real name is actually Jonathan and he's from Birmingham.

Show me the money

Takase-san requested my presence in Tokyo once again for another scholarship ceremony to mark the new academic semester. It was a great excuse to go up to Tokyo and for them to pay for my shinkansen. After travelling on the juuhachi kippu for the duration of my spring break and sitting on the local trains for hours at a time, I couldn't wait for a chance to ride the shinkansen again. It was bliss, the journey from Nagoya to Tokyo took less than 2 hours compared to six and a half hours on the local trains.

Naturally, I wowed everybody with my perfect jikoshoukai, so much so that someone asked if I was a native speaker! So now I know why the Japanese teachers make us practise them so much...

ping pong tournament

The stench of sweat hits you immediately as you open the door to the Ohmeikan, anybody would be forgiven in assuming tha perhaps an energetic rugby match or sumo game was going on, but no, the sad truth was that all the bodily fluids were excreted merely for the love of ping pong. It went on for days, well into the night and eventually, the second floor emerged victorious. I never knew Japanese boys could smell so much, and I, for one, am glad its over.

an all-inclusive package

My flag, a combination of English, Chinese and Vietnamese which Emma and George had gotten re-acquainted with sewing needles to lovingly stitch for me. I was really touched by all the effort everybody had put in and all the attention to detail that was given. I was treated to multi-lingual poetry recitals throughout the evening as different NUPACE members emerged from a different balcony for their performance. I even had international contribution fro ex NUPACErs who had already left, which was really sweet indeed. Then there was some Scottish dancing and fireworks and sparklers to finish of the evening.

sven chilling with the boys

George made a cardboard cutout of Sven so he could participate in the party too, he proved to be very popular and Carboard Sven spent the night chilling on the deck chair, dancing and entertaining the girls and boys with his wonderful charisma. We could only look on in envy at the magnetism that Carboard Sven exudes.

who's being naughty?

Sarah bought me this risque apron, which Olivier became very attached to and spent the whole night wearing it. I think it brought out the tiger in him grrrr. I love this picture of Olivier with Rika-chan, the facial expression is just so suggestive juxtaposed with Rika, who is the epitome of sweetness and innocence.

say it with flowers

The beautiful flowers the guys bought me for my birthday, an arrangement of pink roses that Des would have been proud of!

the little girl grows up

I allowed myself to open one card earlier, just to quell my curiosity. I think I am doing excellently, bearing in mind that my first parcel arrived over a week ago and it still sits in my room, unopened.

I feel kind of strange; tomorrow I wake up a fully-fledged adult yet in my eyes, I still see myself as a teenager who never really grows up. It’s the same way I look at my friends, yes we look a little older but we are all really still the same underneath. Maybe that’s what all the older people keep saying, even though they look older, they feel the same as when they were in their teens.

I am such a sentimentalist. I can’t help but take a little trip down memory lane, and I really don’t have any regrets. I think that’s my biggest accomplishment. I did everything I set out to do, I wanted to move away from London to study in another part of the country; I wanted to study abroad and now I am in Japan, which was something I worked really hard to fulfil. And I consider myself rich, though you wouldn’t think so by looking at my bank balance. I have wonderful friends and a caring family, and best of all, I also had Terry, who mended me well again. I owe a lot to him. I could lose my wardrobe, all my earrings and shoes, but if I have all the people I love in my life then I’d still be happy. I’d be more than happy actually, which is why I consider myself very lucky. The girl’s done good.

Straight from the paddy field

I don't get any Vietnamese food for what feels like an age, but then I get an invitation to a Vietnamese restaurant for lunch, and an offer of a homecooked Vietnamese dinner on the same day. I am certainly not complaining, I miss popping home for a dose of mummy's special cooking every now and then, its not like the ₤1 megabus has a service from Nagoya to London.

The food was, obviously, beyond gorgeous and just hit the right spot. I really need to learn how to cook like my mum does, the only thing I can make that is slightly Vietnamesey is a very very simple soup with mince pork, shallots and vegetables. I need to master phở, spring rolls, stir fry, soups...

Shake ya ass

I was invited to a bikini salsa party, which made me a little bit skeptical because the Japanese are notoriously shy and I couldn’t imagine people stripping off. So, I came respectably dressed despite the discount entry ticket for bikini cladders. I’m sure this was just a ploy to get women semi-naked so the promoters could attract more men who would pay anything to ogle at a little bit of flesh.

I love salsa and I wish I had more time so I can take regular lessons again. Noriko, who I went with, was absolutely brilliant, a pro. Watching her really made me want to learn to dance better, but she was outshined by this man…

groover on the dance floor

Boy, he could move! And I am not kidding either. Noriko asked him to dance with me because she said he was really experienced, I thought she was just being kind but he really knew his stuff! He had me spinning so much that I was going dizzy, and he was certainly not deterred by a fast number. He was at least 70 something, but he could shimmy like he was in his twenties. It goes to show, never judge a book by its cover…

looks can be deceiving

I used to think that Japanese calligraphy was relatively easily, all you need to know is the right stroke order and a decent brush. Quel naïve! It turns out that you have to hold your wrists a specific way, position the brush at a particular angle and you have to know when to use the entire head of your brush and when to just use the tip. I was terrible, everything I wrote looked silly and childish.

A girl on my floor had more than eight years of experience and she was teaching me the ropes. We spent a good five minutes just working on one downward stroke, and yet I still couldn’t master it. My brush head kept splitting because I was applying too much pressure, but eventually I mastered it. Completely satisfying!

Lameness

I have been hit by a bout of lameness lately, in the fact that nothing I do is extraordinary enough to report to an audience. The mediocrity of life is catching up with me, I am studying and working, where the most exciting thing to occur is the discovery that yes, there is an oven in the Ohmeikan.

The reason this ordinariness is even worthy of writing about is because it is something I have been giving a little bit of thought to. Ok, I also have to confess that in my Lameness, you will get a lot of musings instead of real adventures, but I am starting to think my readership should get to know me better.

In this book I was reading called Three Dollars by Elliot Perlman, one of the characters had an attack of what she called ‘ordinariness’. In the sense that, she woke up one day and realised that she had become just like everybody else, even though when she was young, she had great aspirations, dreams and goals. The reason this struck a cord with me is because the situation is very real to life. When we’re young, the possibilities are infinite, we can achieve anything we want to with a little bit of hard graft and dedication. As time sets in, new constraints materialise themselves and we find ourselves adapting and losing that bit of ourselves which has infinite faith in our own abilities.

We are always told that time is precious, we need to make the most of it, but we go through life forgetting all these wise sayings, for ‘sayings’ are what they have become. They lack real meanings because we mostly only give them superficial attention. What I don’t want to happen is waking up one day and thinking I did not set out to do the things I’d wanted to or that I have not made the most of something. To not have regrets. So here is to making the most of life and opportunities that present themselves.

All work and no play

I have been very bad with updating my blog, I leave it for a good week, then I'd start feeling guilty and write loads of entries. It's becoming a pattern, hence why finger tips are meeting keyboard as I am writing now. The guilt-fess is too much.

It's past midnight and I have just finished my weekly comments and questions assignment for my Democracy class, which is a couple of days overdue because I'd wanted to write a thoroughly thoughtful response to my professor's lecture on Belgian federalism. The problem was finding enough time to sit get it all done in one sitting so I wouldn't lose my train of thoughts. This is my favourite class this semester, all intensive debates and quick exchanges, everything I love about Politics. We have people from Uzbekistan, Cambodia, Laos, Brazil, Thailand, and Vietnam in the class so I get to learn all about their country's political systems as well and if I ever needed to ask an obscure question about a particular country, all I have to do is ask a fellow foreign student. Not something we're likely to find at Bristol, which is definately going to be something I will miss about Nagoya.

We have to give a presentation about our country's democratic experiences as part of our assessment and it turns out I am going to do Britain and Vietnam, since we couldn't reach a decision about which country I really belong to. If in doubt, choose both. It always work with desserts.

in da club

Sarah introduced me to this club called Underground, which is actually not underground at all, it's on the third and fourth floor of a building in Sakae. The place has the phattest sound system and killer bass; earplugs are recommended if you don't want your ears ringing for the next day. We went there once after we'd played a game of tennis in the afternoon, we spent the entire night dancing and everything started to catch up with me. As I got out of bed the next day, my legs gave way and I fell on the floor. Note to self, never play tennis and then go clubbing.

First, she gets Mary and Angel Gabriel...

The most covetted roles in the school Nativity play were Mary and Angel Gabriel, and much to my disappointment I was never offered either parts. I was the inn-keeper's wife's friend. Lady Helena, on the other hand, was Mary in one year and Angel Gabriel in another. Jealous, moi?

Now, Her Ladyship is 'chilling in her villa' in Mexico, staying with a diplomat's family and sipping margaritas all day. Okay, so maybe not all day then.

I'm only teasing. Mexico looks gorgeous and I am so glad Hellie is having a ball. I will be raiding her photo collections and wardrobe when she gets back, so darling, I hope you've been shopping!

Thank God!

I am hardly Tony Blair's biggest fan, but the possibility of a Conservative government makes me shudder with fear. Really now, Michael Howard as our Prime Minister and representative to the world? Please, we could never laugh at Bush again.

The Conservatives dedicated an entire page of their manifesto to one message, 'Obviously the world is more dangerous and we've got to keep up our guards'. One fine example of fear tactics. Immigration has always been used as an effective scare tactic to strike the fear into Britons, making the distinction between us and them. Our wealth, jobs, and economic stability are vulnerable to attack by immigrants who drain our national resources. It's better to erect a fortress around our borders to keep them out. The Conservatives talk about the figures on immigration in one sentence and jumps onto the issue of asylum seekers in another. 'Immigrants' include all people who move from one country to another, asylum seekers are immigrants but they do not make up the whole figure. The discourse on asylum-seekers often underemphasise one key point, the people are fleeing their countries for their own safety, either for political or religious reasons. The difference between 'asylum-seekers' and 'refugees' is only defined in legal terms, the latter is enjoys an internationally recognised status.

My family came to England as refugees, which makes me one of those people the Conservatives are so afraid of. We are told asylum-seekers are often bogus, that they want to steal our jobs, do not pay taxes, commit crimes, live off the state. I personally take that as an insult. Sure, my family depended on social security while we were trying to find our feet. We started with a cardboard TV box for a table and some garden chairs, but my parents studied English, learnt some skills, and started working and paying taxes. Asylum seekers and refugees are just ordinary people trying to survive in extraordinary circumstances. The position that certain politicians adopt would have denied my family from ever setting foot in the country, let alone try to forge a future beyond absolute poverty.

Amidst the excitement of winning a third term, Blair walks into the wrong house.

My other half

Emma and I have known each other since I first moved to London about 14 years ago, and she has remained one of my best friends ever since. We lived down the road from each other, were in the same class throughout primary and secondary school, and accidentally on purpose studied pretty much the same subjects so we were always together. Yet, this is by no means an indication that we are at all alike.

Emma has had to endure a lot; she was the person I'd always try my ideas on and bless her, she took them in her stride and never wondered whether I was out of my mind. I persuaded her to model for me in my art projects, and at that time I was very interested in illusion and 3-D art so I used her as a canvas. This is how Emma ended up being painted to look like a zebra one day. My favourite piece that we did was when I painted Emma's eyes onto her eyelids and so she looked like she had her eyes open when they were, in fact, closed.

We were also occupied with making up plans for the future, I wanted to travel and said one day when we were 14 that we should travel around the world together after school. We tried to book a trip to Thailand when we were 16 but Emma's mum rightfully decided that Thailand was not a suitable destination for two 16 years-olds. We tried for New York, Egypt, Morocco but Emma's mum thought it was safest for us to go to Majorca. Not quite as exotic as the places we were dreaming of but we made the best of it and had a brilliant week when I should have been revising for my exams. Then, we broadened the field and backpacked around Europe after my A-levels.

Emma turned 21 today, and so this is an entry to say a massive thank you for always being there throughout my many tumultuous times, for putting up with my lateness, for keeping my feet on the ground and encouraging me to do the things I didnt believe I could.

Seven

Don't be jealous now, but I am going to Malaysia. Very very excited, I can't wait! It's booked, tickets have arrived and I'm due to leave in 4 weeks and 2 days. I have been reading up on it, talking to anybody who has ever stepped foot inside the country and collecting an abundance of advice.

Malaysia looks heavenly, really stunning white sandy beaches, the lushest green rainforest and paddy fields and there is a chance we will be able to see turtles coming to nest on the beach. Its going to blissful. That is my biggest achievement this month, getting the tickets booked and, as always, I couldnt have done it without George. Thanks love!

This month, I have discovered the joys of the Loft, a department store in Sakae that has an English literature section, so I have been hiding away there on a Sunday afternoon browsing through the shelves. They also have English magazines too, and is Jude Law and Sienna Miller engaged??? God, I miss my trashy gossip!

I have been incredibly busy, not doing anything much apart from working and studying. I have started playing tennis and I am still going to the gym so that eats up an hour and a half a day. I have given up salsa, I dont have enough time to do it because it is all the way in Sakae, but I am thinking I will start it again properly when I get back to Bristol. My last month as a 20 year-old, its strange to think that I will be a real grown-up soon. When I was little, I was convinced that adults were born adults and children would be children forever. In my tiny brain, I couldn't comprehend people growing old because it simply took too long, I thought. So, it's strange for me, little me, to join the realms of the adult people who I used to be so in awe of. Bring on 21!

Take it off

There's going to be a table tennis tournament at the Ohmeikan, cue lots of frantic training sessions to fine-tune techniques and practice the slam hit. I have no love for the game, but it did get a little bit more interesting when people started playing strip table tennis. Did somebody say 'strip?!' One Japanese boy ended up naked in the lobby baring his bum (and other bodily parts) to us all, but I was too busy giggling to capture that on camera. Kevin ended up shirtless in his game, but he refused to go down to his undies. Awww, the boy has modesty! I played Sanjay, I won that game but he stopped at his boxers and I hadnt even removed my socks yet.