As you can probably imagine, this was a pretty uneventful week.
I kept up with my goals, falling short in a few places but still on-track overall. I’ve finished about two thirds the the book for book club (deadline is Saturday), and I have two chapters left in my Japanese textbook. I did the pushups and sit-ups as expected last Wednesday and then had such sore arms the next day that I had to switch to squats. I also finished my Colorwork paint-by-numbers (thanks, Alexia!).
Am I over quarantine? Yeah. Could it be worse? Of course. As bored and hungry for something besides fruit and eggs as I am, there’s a part of me that is very much okay with painting and reading and relaxing all day everyday.
I know every person on the planet has had some variation of this feeling over the past two years, but I’ll say it anyway. Being shut in a hotel feels something like being trapped in a time loop, like that guy from Groundhog Day, reliving the same day over and over with nothing changing except yourself. The movie doesn’t tell us exactly how many times he went through that day, but it must have been a lot since he came out as a master pianist, ice sculptor, etc. I wonder how long I’d have to stay in here before I could walk out as a master painter, fluent in Japanese.
Anyway, since I have the time and nothing else to write about, I figured I’d go ahead and clear out my drafts. There are only two, one from September 2019 and one from May 2020. Both are nothing more than ideas for posts, consisting of a cute title and the barest beginnings of a paragraph.
The draft from September, which I called Are You There, Inari? It’s Me, Alisa goes like this:
“This week was Obon vacation, so I had time off work. Obviously, I can’t keep living in Japan without having been to Tokyo, so I bought a ticket for the Shinkansen.”
That was my first week-long holiday after coming here. No one had heard of COVID-19, so “time off work” still meant “fun” and “traveling” and “excitement.” It was also my first time riding the shinkansen, or bullet train, any significant distance. It immediately became my favorite mode of transportation because it goes 200mph and cuts a 6-hour+ bus ride into 2.5-hour nap, and you can show up at the station just 5 minutes before your train time. But that’s getting ahead of the story.
From the draft title, I know exactly where I was going with the post, had I ever gotten around to writing it, and we need two bits of context for it all to come together. First, Inari is the Japanese kami (Shinto god or spirit) of, among other things, rice. Second, I had gone out the night before I went to Tokyo.
The night out was a blast, if I remember correctly. I had been planning to go home early and sleep before my big travel day, but my coworker Matt convinced me to kick the week off right in Takaoka before I left for the big city.
“We won’t stay out too late,” he said. “You can sleep on the train,” he said.
Long story short, we hit up my favorite local bars, and I don’t remember getting home that night. I could blame it on the fact that it was two years ago, but to be clear: even just the next day, I did not remember getting home that night.
So the next morning, I somehow blessedly did not have a hangover, but also somehow not-blessedly DID NOT HAVE MY APARTMENT KEY. I reasoned with myself that I would’ve locked the door before going out, so the fact that I got back into the apartment suggested that the key was somewhere inside the room.
I took my bedroom apart, searching through clothes and books and blankets. I took my bathroom apart, checking inside the toilet and under the washing machine. I took my kitchen apart, dismantling my not-earthquake-safe stack of appliances (rice cooker on top of the toaster oven on top of the microwave on top of the refrigerator). Nothing.
Maybe twenty minutes later, I knew I had to make a choice between finding this key and catching my train. It was the first vacation of my Japanese adventure, so of course I had to choose the train.
I packed all my valuables because I didn’t want to leave them in an unlocked apartment for three days, and I called Matt while I was walking to the station. It was his fault that I lost my key, anyway, kind of, so I figured he could help me out by checking on the room once or twice while I was gone.
“Lol. Manager’s going to kill you.”
I knew this already. When I was given the key on my first day of work, the importance of not losing said key had been impressed upon me quite intensely. I was told about a teacher a few years prior who had lost the key to the very apartment where I would be staying.
I was told that due to the nature of the locks, changing the lock required that the entire door be replaced, and the teacher had to pay $500 out of his own pocket.
I was told that because he was borrowing a company-owned apartment, his irresponsibility reflected badly on not only himself but also his branch school and all the coworkers associated with it, so he had to write apology letters to various heads of departments and the company president.
At that time, never having lost a key before and feeling confident in my responsible nature, I laughed along at the pitiful story of the man who lost his key. Who would do something like that? Couldn’t be me.
“Lol. Well ok I’ll stop by. Do you want me to put some pencil lead on the door hinge while I’m at it?” (ifykyk)
That settled, I got on the train to meet my friends in Tokyo. At that time, I still knew a good number of people living in different cities in Japan because the other teachers from my on-boarding group hadn’t gone home yet. A lot of things were different back then. I rode the train maskless, and when I arrived, I gave each of my coworkers a big hug.
I told them about losing my key and the price that I would have to pay. They laughed and suggested that we go to a shrine to pray for it.
The first fortunes (omikuji) we pulled were not excellent. Carl’s was the best: good fortune. Sorcha and I were both unlucky, receiving tickets that read bad fortune. Reading the fortunes is like reading your horoscope, and you can read about your future in sections, including travel, business, romance, and, seriously?, lost items.
“The item you seek will not be found.”
I was laughing but also just superstitious enough to be devastated. Sorcha, also wanting to change her luck, suggested that we pray a bit and then try it again.
We walked up to the shrine, clapped a few times, and tossed some coins into the box. After making our spiritual and monetary donations, we pulled new fortunes.
Carl: best fortune. Sorcha: regular fortune. Me: medium fortune.
We laughed again. Who knew there were so many options? I checked the status of my lost item.
“The item you seek will be very difficult to find.”
I’ll take it!
The rest of the trip was lovely. We visited a hedgehog cafe, Meiji Shrine, and Tokyo Skytree. We actually went to Skytree three times, but the first two times were on off hours; apparently none of us knew how to use Google properly, and Carl’s best fortune was not rubbing off on me and Sorcha. We also don’t know how to read a map, I guess, because we rode the train all the way the to the last stop in one direction when we were meant to take it in the opposite direction.
Coming back from the trip, I felt that I had enjoyed it to the fullest, and I was ready to face whatever dark fate awaited me as punishment for misplacing the key. I grabbed the rice cooker from atop the microwave so I could prepare my last supper. I opened it up to find — and this is true — my apartment key.
Well played, Inari. Well played.
Ok, that was a bit longer than anticipated, so I’m going to pack up and save the other draft for a different week when I have nothing to write about. Thanks for reading my life updates! I now need to decide whether to pay out the wazoo for a COVID test so that I can be free on Friday, or just stick it out with my cup ramen until next Tuesday. I’ll let you know.
Until next time,
Alisa
Alisa & a Visa 