js 35 uchi no tomodachi Miwa

Miwa was pretty much our constant companion in our final year in Japan. She moved in with us about a month after we had settled in, taking command of the guest bedroom. Not long after her mannequin also moved in. Miwa was studying Kimono and we were to see the mannequin in many states of dress and undress.

It's hard to quantify the contribution Miwa made to our lives. We were struggling with a baby boy, sleep deprivation and the need to invest huge amounts of energy into a school that had shrunk in our absence. She helped out with Tom, with cooking and shopping, with a thousand little daily interactions that would have taken us a long time to figure out. She was often an intermediary between us and various utilities and service providers and sorted out all manner of little conflicts. It's not that we weren't culturally sensitive, or competent or even quite experienced in things Japanese. We were. It was the baby Tom. He made all the difference, as we should have known from the start.

So this is a little tribute to Miwa, our dear friend. We hope that she finds happiness in all that she does. She never liked photos of herself but this one(taken at Sanda's Mukogawa) is a corker, if you ask me.

Tom's pre-school

Tom started pre-school about 2 months ago. He is a bright, demanding little boy who was ready for immersion in a new hands-on sort of experience, the kind that good pre-schools provide. I'm not terribly concerned about the overt didactic outcomes, whether they teach the alphabet or numbers or the like. The idea that a tiny creature can be pumped full of skills and knowledge from a national curriculum board is not on my radar screen at all. He is learning fast enough at home, already has a frighteningly precocious vocabulary and picks up stuff as he needs it. Which is fine.

His pre-school is up the road in Lawson. It's parent-built and run so (given the strong sense of community we have up here) it is likely to be a nice place to go, with lots of wood and sand and books and climbing materials. And those tiny cute toilets.

This morning I went to check my post box as usual. A long blue wheat train droned past, taking all of two minutes to do so, such was its stupendous length. Sentimental fool that I am, I imagined Tom hearing the train pass him only a few minutes earlier upline (definitely possible since he is a great fan of things trainish) and how this formed a kind of connection between us. Silly, ne?

stomping in cold leaves,
the boy hears the diesel-roar sliding,
messages tumbling downline

js34 amanohashidate

Amanohashidate is one of the 'Three Beautifuls' in Japan, a very select group given the great many beautiful things that they compete with there. The reference though is to the loveliness of the view, its location and doubtless other unquantifiable factors.

We went to Amanohashidate twice during our time in Japan, the second time with the infant Tom. It was a hot day, a very hot day, when the icecream was already melting in the cone as you exchanged yen with the shop assistant.

But what is it? Well, a long, thin sandbar extends from one side of the bay to the other, and the bar is covered with a fairly thick stand of trees. The waters of the bay gently lap at either side, and visitors can walk or ride bicycles from end to end. At some point it is obligatory to ascend to a lookout by a funicular, and even more obligatory to then stand and look backwards through your legs at the great beautiful below. The trees then appear as if to hang from the sky, a pleasant illusion and one not at all compromised by an Asahi or two.

In the second shot, my head is partly obscuring this great beautiful. Gommen nasai. In the top one, Nadia is doing the aforementioned party trick, with the assistance of a camera, of course.

upsidaisy summer skies
amanohashidate
like abe lincoln's beard

js33 the muko river

The Mukogawa does not neatly divide Sanda in two. Nor does it provide a lifeline for commerce. Or even the paasage for a canoe. It was almost certainly once a healthy flowing force that flooded now and then and spilled into fecund rice paddies, into the old 'three fields' that gives Sanda its name today. The flow was cut to a trickle by damming, then the banks and river floor were concretized (I never knew of this verb before living in Japan) and so, it is as it is today.

I've have seen this so often in Japan that it becomes like a repeat horror flick. Beautiful rivers with the potential to create a hundred little Parisian scenes (with a Japanese twist, of course) are sacrificed on the altar of pork-barrelling politics and irrational fear. This happens everywhere, but it's particularly sad in a country with such an aesthetic for beauty and harmony, as Japan.

Nevertheless, at least once a year, the river comes alive with human activity, much as it once did regularly, long ago. At the O-Bon Festival in the heat of summer, goldfish are put into a netted off-section of the Mukogawa, and children with nets descend from the banks to try their luck. It's a lovely site, a modern representation of an ancient practice, though the fish were not captives in olden times.

So here are two shots of the Mukogawa in the summer of 2006, looking towards the old town centre.

new learning

Since starting my diploma of counselling, I have been on a fairly steep learning curve. A lot of the information seems 'obvious' and 'common sense', the problem with that being that neither of those descriptions finds a common application in real life. I find that if something is obvious, then often as not, it isn't. It's just that a part of my brain that has heard or experienced this kind of thing in the past suddenly recalls the shadow of that experience, and then proclaims, 'why, of course.' The same with common sense. I don't think that walking on broken glass with bare feet is very common sensical, but people apparently pay other people to do just that. (Where is this going? Ed.)

The skills-based information in my counselling texts is another matter. So far I have been presented with about 10 methods or strategies for effective counselling, and to be honest, if I ever do practice counselling, I might need an autocue behind the client's head to remember them. I have a prac coming up in a few weeks which should be interesting and a bit of a challenge. I do need challenges so I am looking forward to it.

In case you are wondering about my college and the courses that are offered, I have put a link on the right (AIPC) to the site. There are even a few free articles for those of you who are so inclined.

gaps

Gaps continue in my blog, gaps that whisper that my entries are weeks apart. I scan the horizon for excuses but find few. Yes, I have been immersed in a new course of study and that is quite consuming mentally. But I know there is still time to write short bits and pieces here. Its just that I haven't.

Two weeks ago on the Easter weekend my choir, Crowd Around, performed informally at the National Folk Festival in Canberra. By informally I mean we didnt have a set venue or spot on the program - we were a bit like minstrels, though without lutes or tambours. I've been a member of the choir for 16 years(!) and we have our highs and lows, both in terms of membership and sound quality. These days we are doing pretty well and we are certainly on a par with the group who toured Japan in 1998. I think that says quite a lot.

Canberra is a big pleasant folky kind of experience and we fitted in in our daggy choral way. In case you're wondering, our repetoire goes beyond the staple of gospel and world music (though, nothing wrong with those!) and extends to some decent pop arrangements. We're becoming more eclectic, which suits me fine. BTW, I notice that my wife has started a blog about the choir, and the link is on the right.

So naturally, I include a shot of one of our open air gigs from the Canberra trip. I don't know the song we are singing, though my course in lip reading will help once I have finished it. Don't watch this space.