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Broadcasting to an audience of three (and a goldfish)...
Comment, ramblings and musings... life through the eyes of a Japanologist...
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Thursday, July 25, 2002 |
 CDs, or pieces of music, worthy of mention...
'Evil Woman' by the Electric Light Orchestra
This is because
at the minute, it reminds me of the girl in the office. To mention her
name would be giving things away, so I won't, but what I will say is
that there is nobody more arrogant or full of their own self-importance
in the whole Town Office. She's like Cruella De Ville, but without the
affability.
However, she has no reason to be like this- the fact of
the matter is that she is inefficient and unimportant. If I were her,
I'd be doing my utmost to keep my nose to the grindstone so that nobody
realised just how inefficient I was. But no!- she tries to behave like
she's running the whole office! Indeed, part of the reason that she's so
astoundingly inefficient is that she spends most of the day listening in
other people's phone calls and conversations, itching for a chance to
interfere and prove- once again!- how utterly indispensable she is.
Indispensable! Ha, ha, ha! If I had to choose just one person to kick
out of the office (preferably literally), then she'd be in the number
one, two and three spots. But of course she only picks work to interfere
in when she thinks she'll be noticed- something like the cleaning in
Enoshima today, she wouldn't have touched with a barge-pole- this sort
of thing is leagues below what she would ever do.
Anyway, she's
arrogant to the point of insolence not just with me- she orders her
immediate boss (a lady senior enough to be her mother) around just as if
the roles were reversed- but she's especially contemptuous towards me. I
think there are two reasons for this: first of all, she can't cope with
dealing with non-Japanese people (let's face it, she has no 'people
skills' even as far as Japanese people are concerned!), and secondly,
she believes that working as hard as she does (talk about
self-delusion!) entitles her to look down from her awesome height on
anyone whom she perceives not to be putting as much effort into their
job as she is. What she doesn't- can't!- understand is that my job is
different to hers; I don't have to push little bits of paper around my
desk all day- I can write speeches and articles, go out and do things
with groups and in schools, and plan events- and have more effect in a
year or so than she'll have in her whole career here.
Anyway, I've
been getting closer and closer to writing this weblog entry for several
months now. For example, the fact that she studiously avoids asking me
whether I want to order anything for lunch in itself makes me despise
her. However, two things today finally angered me enough to put pen to
paper. First was this morning, when I was talking to Nagareda-kun about
Enoshima, she interrupted me in the middle of a sentence to talk to him.
Then when I got back from Enoshima, she passed over (perhaps 'down'
would be the better word) a letter without a word- just thrust it in my
direction. Well, I know one thing: I'm not going to tolerate her blatant
contempt for very much longer. I am, after all, her sempai, and,
irrespective of job, irrespective of nationality, a little more- a lot
more!- respect is in order. And one more thing. When I explode- and it
is a question of 'when', not 'if'- it will be a day not soon forgotten.
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After all the fuss about the article for Keizai Shunju, and how it
needed to be submitted the day before I'd even been asked to write it
(or something), it turns out that in fact it needs to be written for a
deadline of September 10th. In addition, it's not 800 characters, but
2000. So not too different to what had been originally requested,
then... I know one thing: if I'd already written the article, then I
would have refused having seen the new length and everything. I refuse
to be messed around like this, especially by someone who can't even read
my name.
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After the cleaning, there was some time before the boat came to pick us
up, even after the 'planning meeting' (which was basically the annoying
woman being strident), so Nagareda-kun and I wandered around a little,
and found ourselves on the pier. Looking back at the entrance to the
island (which is, after all, private), with its gate surmounted with
spikes, its 'Keep Out!' signs, and its barbed wire 'decorations',
nothing came to mind more than a concentration camp. Even the sky, which
had started out a bright blue, was dull by that point, which only added
to the slightly forbidding scene.
Indeed, when I mentioned this to
Nagareda-kun, he agreed immediately. It really wasn't difficult to
imagine people going through that gate and never coming back. If it was
like this when it was still open for its beach, then to be honest it's
not difficult to see why it closed...
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I hate being treated differently to Japanese people. I'm not here to
stand out; I'm here to integrate.
I especially hate being treated
differently to Japanese people when this is because some idiot (in this
case, the woman looking after- I hesitate to use the term 'in charge
of'- the 'Furusato Tanbo' event) has some idea that foreigners will
forever be foreigners.
For example, there was the tantosha
kaigi- the meeting for the people responsible for this event- today,
and of course, as a tantosha, I was present.
However, the
woman handed out two sets of paper to everyone apart from me; I only got
one. Anyway, I checked, and the second piece of paper was the list of
the children in the group that each person was leading. Well, I'm
leading a group, too, and there was no conceivable reason for me not to
get a piece of paper like everybody else- so I decided to make a fuss.
In the end, the woman gave a long and very theatrical sigh, found the
relevant piece of paper, and waved it contemptuously in my direction. I
took it equally contemptuously, and said, 'That's better,' which gained
a look like thunder- but I don't care. If she thinks she can get away
with treating me like this, then she'd better be prepared for more
trouble.
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Straight after stepping off the boat, I knew I liked Enoshima. Not
because of its setting or scenery, not because of its beautiful bay with
crystal-clear, millpond-still water, although these were alluring
enough. No, more than anything the island's run down nature was what
really attracted me, just like in Matsue.
The overall effect was like
a holiday camp or something out of season, which, in a way, I suppose
Enoshima is, albeit twenty years or so out of season. The island was a
summer playground until twenty years or so ago, after which it seems to
have been left, gradually to return to nature. There were the old
buildings by the pier, boarded up now, brick flower beds, with the paint
peeling and now with weeds rather than flowers; and, by the beach, a
swimming pool, now half full of sand and silt, with bulrushes thriving
at one end. The steps up to the lighthouse were hidden by luxuriant
greenery, and a wisteria bower stood just waiting for the trippers who
would never come. It really was just like the whole place had been
closed down for the season, and was just waiting for a few days' hard
work to get spruced up before the summer visitors. The fact that there
would be no such visitors only added to the melancholy, only slight but
very alluring. Gazing round, it was easy to glimpse the faint memories
of happy families floating on the breeze...
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At least the boat trip to Enoshima was pleasant. We used a little
fishing smack, and sat on the deck for the 20-minute or so journey.
Interestingly, the sea near to Etajima looked a little odd, and the
boat's wash was a strange greenish-red. Out into Hiroshima Bay the wash
became the more normal white foam; I wonder if the strange colour was
the aka-shio, the reddish plankton which sometimes becomes a
problem in Hiroshima Bay at this time of year?
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Great. Nobody thought to mention that there were poisonous snakes and
swarms of bees on Enoshima, not until we were about five seconds' drive
away from the boat to take us there. Come on!- I need at least some time
to prepare myself for hazards like this! Mind you, if I'd known about
these dangers earlier, I suppose I'd have tried to find some way to get
out of the whole thing...
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Another blazingly hot day. Looks like I'll get burnt in Enoshima, then...
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Breakfast Show Staple Randomhaiku of the day (from The Genuine Haiku Generator)
dumbly, cow moping
glumly, peasant ruminates
cheaply, ripples slide
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I can only assume that there was some exceedingly strange weather during
the night. Perhaps a short version of the
forty-days-and-forty-nights-of-rain episode. How else to explain a
starfish on the apartment stairs this morning?
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© Copyright 2003 Nathan Duckworth.
Updated: 8/1/03; 8:22:49 pm.
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