I'm working part-time at Macy's this summer. Weeknights are pretty boring. One Tuesday evening I had only $200 in sales in three hours. During that time I finger-straightened the racks in my section (which means I spaced the hangers an equal distance from one another using my fingers), dusted shelves, and cleaned windows. I also wrote some acrostics using the letters in "Macy's." Here's what I came up with:
Manly Animals Can't Yawn Sideways
More Alfani (a Macy's clothing brand) Clothing? You're Scary
"You're so tall," they say. "Tall, like bamboo," they say. And like bamboo (hunched over, bent by the wind, leaves quivering) I wait for the typhoon to pass. But I forget (as I am pulled and stretched by the gale) bamboo bends, but does not often break (like flimsy cherry blossoms floating and fluttering and leaving the tree at a breath). Bamboo bends, then returns to its full and upright position, tall and strong and green, growing toward the sky.
I want to 見つける someone who really 知ってる me. でも、 what does that 意味？ だれか分かる？ How do I know もし someone 分かります me? Am 私 that difficult to understand? だれか知ってますか。 In this 世界、no one speaks my language. How ironic. だれもない分かるね。 たとえ when I'm surrounded by 人 who 話す my language, I still feel that they 聞こえない what I'm saying. みんな分からないね。
That means "Fire Mountain," which is where I took this picture. It's pronounced "hinoyama" in Japanese. I love the name of the mountain (which actually barely qualifies as a mountain. It's really just a massive hill. But it was still fun to climb, don't get me wrong). There is an awesome park and walking trails that lead to the top, where these is an observatory. I went to the park in hopes of taking the ropeway to the top to take pictures of the whole Shimonoseki and Kanmon Strait area, but the ropeway was closed, so I started hiking, without thinking about having a water bottle or good hiking shoes with me. At first I was just walking around taking pictures of random flowers and pathways and stuff, but after about twenty minutes of walking I realized that I was really thirsty and hungry and sweaty and that I would have to hike back down as well. So I abandoned getting to the top and settled for getting to the nearest vending machine. So I'll have to go back sometime to get some good panoramic shots of the water and the bridge and the mountains. For now the above picture will suffice.
In other news, I wrote another haiku, this time only in English:
the deep black of crows glistens in the morning sun as they feast on trash.
I read it to one of my Japanese colleagues and at the end she said "yamete," which means about the same thing as "shut up" or "stop it." I asked her if she didn't like it, and she said that in Japan crows are a symbol of death, and are especially inauspicious in the morning. She said I should never write haikus about crows. It wasn't a super-serious thing to her, so we laughed at my foolish cultural mishap, but I still got the impression that the poem was unsettling to her. So I learned never to wax eloquent about crows in Japan. Let that be a lesson to you as well, my loyal readers.
はな つち 花と土 Flowers and soil on みち せみ 道は狭いが on a narrow path during はるさんぽ 春散歩 a warm spring walk. In Japanese class this week we wrote haiku's. In Japanese. I was freaked out. I thought it would be so, so hard. How can I write a poem in another language? Well, the results were good, possibly profound, and definitely hilarious. Here's another one I wrote that turned out to be not a haiku, but a senryu-- a satirical poem with the same number of syllables as haiku. Apparently a poem only qualifies as a haiku if it is about nature or a season. This next poem is only indirectly about nature. To wit:
はなみず 鼻水や a runny nose and あたま いたい 頭が痛い a bad sinus headache means あ れ る ぎい アレルギー allergy season.
(Note: the translations are not literal. I tried to translate them so the syllables were still the correct amounts and stay true to the ideas in the poem. It was tough. Give me a break.)
Every time I see a cute dog in Japan I feel really sad because I miss Sonny so much. On the way to school this morning I saw a really cute miniature, long-haired, blonde dachshund walking its owner. Jokingly, Nick said I should write poetry to help me process my emotions. So this morning we wrote this limerick:
There once was a dog named Sonny. His short stubby legs look quite funny. When he walks around his tail hits the ground and leaves a trail of dust bunnies.
I don't claim to be a good poet, and I am very careful about the poetry I post here because I know Ryan reads this (my personal god of poetry and all things O'Connor). But I thought this was okay to post, especially since it expresses what I feel at work a lot of the time.
I come in and put on my face but not makeup-- another overused metaphor. hello, how are you today? cheeks grow tired of being stretched into an affectatious grin. oh, I'm fine, how're you doing? lips pull back to reveal glistening teeth. just fine. a cheesy smile, really. did you find everything ok? I default to superficial conversation as opposed to intimacy vulnerability or truth to people I will never know or care for. yes, thank you. The same phrases are passed back and forth. Have a good day. I'm fine, thanks. Stay cool out there; it's a hot one. Don't work too hard. Thank yous all around. And all the time I'm screaming inside to be real.
A younger sister and her friend-- Kelli and Kate-- come to visit the older sister, Diane. So excited, sixteen and driving so far from home without parents to visit her sister at college for the first time. She thinks, what will it be like when I go to college? Will people drive to visit me at school?
Kelli and Kate almost make it to see Diane. Kelli dies on impact. Kate has awhile to think about the afterlife and her pain and Kelli before she passes. The woman who hit them must be thinking a lot, too. Was it my fault? They swerved into my lane, but is it my fault?
I hear the helicopters and the police cars from The computer lab. I wonder what happened in this sleepy town to cause such a ruckus.
The family comes to town to mourn with the older daughter Diane. They eat at Pizza Hut. Their eyes are bleary, they pray together at the table before eating hour-old buffet pizza. What did the waiters think? They know about the accident. “They were so young.” How did they respond?
Kelli’s funeral is on my birthday. I didn’t know her, nor do I know her sister. I am thinking a lot, too.
i thank You God for most this amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birthday of life and of love and wings: and of the gay great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any (lifted from the no of all nothing) human merely being doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened) --e. e. cummings
Name: Ruthie Home: Japan About Me: I want to know who God is and what his truth is. I love getting lost in beautiful music and cloudless star-filled skies, especially in the fall. I hate being bored. I like big cities. I want to travel the world. read more
Name: Ruthie