くらい、くらい

"Do you like living in Japan?"... I never know what to answer to that question. Specially because most of the times the inquire is made by a Japanese person. What am I supposed to say? That I love it? I mean... living in Japan is fine. I don't hate it, living here is as comfortable as living can get. I like japanese food, japanese life standards, japanese landscapes and Japanese (the language). Also i like my Japanese friends, the people form my laboratory, some of my teachers, some of my classmates. Yes, I love many things about being here... but sometimes I just hate the place.

Don't take me wrong, I'm not saying that living here is terrible despite all the good things. It is not. I just can't get myself to say that i like it. Even more in days like today when I feel that it is not worth coping with the things that i don't love about it.

I guess today's ranting is because I've been feeling a bit down lately after I completely ruined half of the data I had for my graduation thesis, and it doesn't help that I can't talk about it properly without feeling absolutely stupid (yes, it was my fault, my mistake, and it makes me feel dumb). Also, I'm often bothered by the thought that I'm forgetting how to talk to people because it is so freaking hard to get people to talk to here. I talk alone, a LOT, because days go by and I barely open my mouth to say something to another human being. And the weird thing is that it has become normal. Olavia says that we are becoming less human, that we are fading in the silence of every day that goes by, and that's scary.

I think that maybe I wasn't fit for Japan. Although it was possible to live here for 5 years without going nuts, it seems that my personality itself was not malleable enough to get used to the way people act here. Or maybe it is just that I don't want it to be. I can't bring myself to believe that the way some things are done here is right. A few examples:

1. You go walking down a corridor with enough space across for, let's say, three people. One of your classmates (and by this, I mean people you have been meeting on a weekly basis for 3 years) is walking towards you from the other side. You raise your hand or smile to greet the person, as a simple courtesy gesture... and you are completely ignored because the person engaged in an exhaustive analysis of the tiles as soon as he/she noticed your presence. Yes, people look other way when they meet you.

2. You go drinking with some of your classmates. They get tipsy (or plainly drunk) and invite you to play some traditional game and manage to have some random conversations about whatever topic. This is the most you've ever spoken to them. You feel like you've made some great achievement. The next day they barely say hello to you or just ignore your existence (in a similar way to the example above).

3. You go drinking with the people you have been studying for the past 10 months. Again, they get tipsy or plainly drunk. You go now to karaoke with some of them. One of them is talking to you normally and even gives you his place on the sofa so you can sit -Thank you-. He looks tired so you make enough space for him to sit back again besides you. He refuses saying he is fine standing. One minute later he is sitting on the floor across the room and as soon as there's some space in the other sofa, he sits there.

When this sort of things happen regularly for 5 years you just start wondering what is so wrong about you that makes people act like that. Because no, not every foreigner is received with that attitude (although many of us do).

I just don't know... I have 2 and half months left in this country and I still don't know. Maybe it's just that I'm not interesting enough for them. Maybe it is as my mom says and it is just the way they act towards everyone and I'm taking it too personally... who knows?

Maybe it is just that I'm feeling down and everything seems dark and ugly today.

Maybe I should stop writing when I'm sad/angry and stop complaining so much.

Maybe.



This was Yin's confused frustration speaking.

¿Y ahora?

(この切ない気持ちでどうしろっての?)

Tic, tac, tic, tac. Un salto al frente.
Risas, conversaciones como las de hace algunos años. Sara se siente feliz porque después de tantos ires y venires, y después de tantas vueltas y rupturas, pareciera que por fin es posible tener algo de rosado en su vida. Si, hasta Sara quiere un poco de rosado en su vida monocromática. Sólo un poco, la verdad, porque a ella le gusta su vida como es.

Tic, tac. Otro salto al frente.
Ay! Sara tiene gripa. Pero no cualquier gripa, no. Sara ha sido contagiada del virus que tiene al mundo en vilo: ¡La influenza! (No es nada tan grave, la verdad. Un poco de fiebre y dolor de cuerpo, nada más. Pero es una buena excusa para faltar a clase)
Y ahí esta Taro. No hay nada más agradable que sentir la presencia de alguien que te cuida cuando te sientes mal. Es un poco más de rosado decorando el ambiente monocromo. O mucho más de rosado, quién sabe.

Tic, tac. Un paso atrás.
Sara ha sobrevivido a la epidemia mundial. Y de repente... cesan las llamadas, las visitas, los mensajes. Queda sólo un sinsabor dulzón en la boca, como el que queda después de comerse un chocolate. Es un sabor incompleto, inconforme. Y el silecio, claro, siempre queda el silencio.

Tic, tac. Más pasos atrás.
Una vez que Sara ha decidido aceptar el silencio, con la esperanza de que sea interrumpido pronto, empieza la espera: Miradas furtivas al celular cada x minutos, mensajes empezados, interrumpidos y eliminados y, por supuesto, la lucha implacable entre el orgullo y el miedo.

Tic. Reposo (O la total ausencia de movimiento).
Llega un momento en que Sara se pregunta el por y para qué de todos los esfuerzos. Si todos los años van a ser una copia del anterior ¿realmente vale la pena seguir esforzándose?
Ella quiere ir hacia adelante, e ir hacia adelante no le parece posible si se está sujeto al miedo de lo que hay más allá. ¿De qué sirve perder el presente por causa de un futuro inevitable? ¿No es eso una doble pérdida? Además, ¿quién dijo que avanzar es equivalente a perder algo?
Ella no encuentra motivación ni satisfacción alguna en lo estático. Y antes que huir ante la posibilidad de sufrir por lo que quiere, prefiere estrellarse con todas sus fuerzas. Prefiere aprovechar hasta el último segundo disponible para poder sonreir luego, así sea entre lágrimas.
Ahora está tratando de aprender a ser egoista para forzar sus opiniones en él. Hasta ahora, no lo ha logrado. Así que se hace a un lado y espera. Aún cuando sabe que la espera sólo enfría los brotes de rosado que estaban naciendo y que el frío marchita los brotes.

Tac. ¿Y ahora?
... El invierno.



This was: Yin's disappointment speaking.

And the end is coming soon

(About today's breakdown...)

I came to Japan almost 5 years ago, I began to think about leaving Japan about 4 years ago, I began my graduation research 8 months ago, I did cosplay for the first time 1 month ago, and 2 weeks ago I was told that the next 5 months will be my last in Japan.

Two weeks ago the Education ministry decided to suddenly increase the minimum GPA necessary to extend the scholarship in order to do the Master's studies here. Now, out of 3, it is necessary to have a 2.5 GPA... this is more than 80% of A's. How irrational is that? Do they really expect students, who came without the smallest knowledge of Japanese, to learn their ridiculously complicated language for only one year and then get grades over 80 in most subjects of careers such as Biology or Law? Or is it just that we have become too much of a burden for them and they just decided to kick us out in the most humiliating way possible? This just doesn't make any sense.

It is true that I said that I didn't want to stay in the first place; that I don't enjoy spending my time with people that just pretend I don't exist. I never felt welcome in this country and I grow more and more tired of the permanent feeling of not belonging here, and not quite understanding half of the things I'm supposed to understand. BUT, I loathe the idea of being kicked out instead of getting out by my own foot. I don’t like the idea of getting all the efforts I've done so far flushed down the toilet by some stupid institution that only sees me as a number, and treats its guests as disposable objects.

Anyway, the result is positive, I get to have an excuse to leave without too much guilt for what I could've missed or abandoned and I get the opportunity to get rid of some ghosts that have been hunting me for a while. In the academic side I didn’t get what I expected basically because Japanese educational system for undergraduate courses is as good as anywhere else (including home) or maybe not even as good. The post-graduate courses are incredibly better, though. So maybe it would’ve been a better idea to come for the master instead.

I'm glad about some things, of course. I had the chance to come and see the other side of the world and that’s not something small. Coming here was a great experience; I have traveled a lot, met amazing people who are also great friends. I grew a lot, learned lots of things about many things and about myself, and had some really interesting experiences.

I just hope that the remaining 5 months that I have left bring more of the good things about this place and less disappointments. It would be great to remember my stay here with a smile on my face.



This was: Yin's blind frustration speaking

Lecciones de Inmunología

Sara está sentada en medio de una multitud de gente.

Sara intenta leer y entender el libro que tiene enfrente de ella.

Sara intenta también mantenerse despierta pese al constante murmullo arrullador que emite la única persona de pie en la sala. Mientras tanto, los mastocitos (o cualquiera de los leucocitos extraviados) de Sara siguen la lucha sin tregua contra alguna sustancia inocua que, sin querer, aspiró en la mañana. Polen, ¿tal vez? Realmente sería bueno encontrar la causa porque la rinitis con la que despertó a duras penas la deja respirar tranquila. Esto no sería problema en un día normal en el que no tendría particular interés en descifrar el murmullo anteriormente mencionado. sin embargo, el tema de hoy le interesa, le gustaría mucho entender lo que el venerable anciano murmullador está diciendo.
Hay algo profundamente equivocado en este sistema de dar clases. Tal vez sería mejor si dieran las clases por televisión. Así Sara podría transformar el sonsonete en palabras inteligibles y entender cómo diablos es que las células B saben que lo que están atacando es una sustancia foránea y no simplemente alguna célula desubicada del mismo cuerpo que las creó a ellas.
Sara maldice un poco al sonsonete y al viejillo y a la gente durmiendo alrededor de ella.

En fin, debería recordar que está en el país de las contrariedades. Donde el "esfuerzo" es una de las cualidades más valoradas pero los estudiantes "valoran" tanto el esfuerzo de sus profesores que se duermen en clase sin ningún reparo ni vergüenza.


These were the scientific spirit and the ranting inconformity of Yin speaking