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Wednesday, October 7, 2009

♥ かんそう

It's raining.

And it will continue to rain. The sky is sort of this bland light gray that is neither dark nor sunny. If I didn't know better, I would say it looked as if it were about to snow. The rain is dripping down, landing on the back of your neck as it finally falls from the tip of your umbrella, causing you to shiver and  try and move more underneath your already too-small coverage. The wind blows, but it does so in a stern breeze, no gusts yet. I wandered down to get some milk tea when I passed the office staff looking hazily out the window, staring at the sky, curious as to what it will do, perhaps a little eager for it to change. We're all wearing sweaters. It's cold, but not too cold. It's the chill before the storm. It's very quiet outside. I suppose that has to do with it too. The winds and rain roar down south, but here, it is quiet. I don't really like it when its too quiet. I get nervous, like something is wrong. When it is so quiet, the moment a noise comes it seems ten times louder than it is. Constant noise at least puts things in perspective.

My respect for Mother Nature has not waned, though I don't fear the typhoon as the media would like me to. Respect is not fear and fear is not respect. I have learned that.

The rain has stopped, if only for a few moments. Droplets of water peer off the leaves of trees, causing the leaves beneath them to bounce with the sudden weight, and thus propelling the droplet further down until it crashes into the ground, joining its companions.

Regardless of what happens, the teachers must arrive tomorrow, if only to prove they are the most devoted civil servants in the country. Even if one cannot see, they must come, or use their precious holiday time to excuse themselves. I have been told I am included and excluded from this. I haven't the faintest idea. In the end, I suppose, I am a teacher. In the end, however, I am also not. Why are the simplest decisions here so very difficult? And why is there a creepy elephant on my milk tea box?

I wonder what tonight shall be like.

I have an ideal vision.

I would be wrapped in my purple ploosh my mother and sister bought me, a cup of PG Tips in my hand, a book by my side, staring at the fire in a grand hearth, drowing out the sound of the storm bustling about my apartment and the port. However I have no fire place, nor PG Tips, and while I may have a book and the ploosh, its hardly quite as comforting as the whole picture. Alas, adaptation comes in many forms, even in the imagination.

Sometimes when I'm only half paying attention, Japanese sounds like Russian.

10:48 AM

♥ Kristina

      The Curls. The girl. The Nippon.

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      22 yrs old
      ALT for Yaizu Chuo HS
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      This blog is rated PG-13 for language, occasional violence, crude humor, and lack of pie.

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