autumn arriving

Today the weather was beyond perfect. The sun was out, but the air was mild. It was a day where I could sit outside in jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals and be perfectly comfortable. So that's what I did. For pretty much the whole day. Sublime.


This supremely relaxing Saturday differed significantly from last Saturday, when I made my first visit to Japan's capital, Tokyo. Tokyo is quite possibly the most bizarre place I have ever been in my life. Walking down the street in the neighborhoods of Shibuya, Shinjuku, and Harajuku, I realize that my small effort to dress nice for the day has fallen flat on it's face. Amid the throngs of young, beautiful people dressed up to the nines in the hight of modern Tokyo fashion, I fit in--at best--with the many haggard-looking tourists scattered throughout the crowds. In Moka, I'm "kawaii" and "kakkoii;" little children and old people stare at me and my European genetics make me constantly something of a novelty. In Tokyo, I'm just another under-dressed white tourist; nobody takes the slightest interest in my presence and waiters in restaurants speak English to me.

If a visitor's only impression of Japan were Tokyo, it would be easy to jump to the conclusion that Japan is a nation of young people; hardly anyone looks like he's under thirty-five. But the truth is, Japan is the world's oldest country, you just have to get outside the big city to notice it. Here in Moka, there's hardly anyone my age. On the bus, everyone's over sixty. At my school, several classrooms go nearly completely unused because, for the past few decades, the student population has done nothing but decline.

All-in-all, this translates into a very peaceful existence for me. I can spend long hours reading at home or crocheting on my front porch because, in the whole town, there really isn't anything else to do. Sometimes this makes me feel antsy; but, for the most part, I enjoy these quiescent weekends.

And tomorrow night: Radiohead.