Naipablaak: 28.03.2023
Either he or I. But not both of us. One of us will not breathe in this room tonight. There are fewer doubts by the minute. ...
Train travel in Japan is something special. We are going to Takayama, in the Japanese Alps. We have about 3 hours of train ride ahead of us through the mountains or their valleys. Along clear rivers, through short tunnels, along beautiful small towns. Every now and then, the conductor makes his rounds, turns around in the open door, pauses for half a second, and bows slightly before moving on to the next compartment. Mariola and Bernd would be pleased with that. Holding and honoring spaces is a daily mindfulness practice here.
I observed something similar at Tokyo Station before. A small cleaning crew comes out of a door recessed in the wall in the stairwell. The last one steps three steps out of the closing door, turns around, and uses his index finger as a conductor's baton. The second the door and head align and the finger strikes rhythmically, they meet perfectly. Snap! The necessary mindfulness is given in the here and now, without already being five minutes ahead in the head. The space that was previously filled with presence is closed, both physically and... metaphysically? No more thoughts to the past, threads are dissolved, focus on what is to come.
I admire this because in 'Western circles' room awareness is almost nonexistent compared to here. I experienced the best example last night. I shared a room to stay overnight with the Cowboy. I entered the room second, after he was already in and wandering elsewhere. Two futons, a nightstand in between. Shared space between two strangers. Respect and unspoken agreement are required. But what I found is the complete opposite. His belongings spread all over the entire table. Even after redistributing his stuff later in the night, I find the same situation again.
This mindfulness is something I miss in our culture. I have spent two full days here, hardly saw any trash containers, but it was incomparably cleaner than where we live. No garbage stains the streets or nature like fallen leaves in autumn.
When we arrive later, a bright blue sky with a warming sun and a friendly old man who carries our luggage await us. Free time is on the agenda, so we visit the historic town from the 18th century. It's almost like being in a theme park. Only authentic. We stroll through the town and meet up for ramen. The third meal for me. The third time ramen for me. 😅🍜
Sake tasting? Sounds good to me! Since I'm here anyway. Exchanged money for sake coins, pulled a sake cup from the capsule vending machine, and off we go. The shop is full of sake vending machines. Choose a type, insert a sake coin, push the button once, tilt the glass, and drink up.
I thought before: 'Meeeh, sake...' Wait a minute... Lemon sake?! Plum sake?! Okay, I'm convinced, more of that. The five coins disappear faster than I can toast.
After sake comes letting it sink in. And how? The women quickly decide that shopping goes well with sake. Our little group of men looks at each other in silence. We silently look at the wooded mountain nearby with the ruins. We look at each other. A brief nod around and the first steps up the road solidify our decision. We discover many shrines, enjoy the view and the conversation.
When we enter the guesthouse, we are amazed. Authentic from the outside, authentic from the inside. With all conveniences. Plus kimono and onsen, a 40°C hot bath. 'Hey, it's just a big bathtub that doesn't cool down.' Nope! During our stay, I will visit the onsen twice and every time I quietly and happily laugh with dopamine when I get in.
After a short photoshoot, we go to the restaurant. Also traditional. With a low table and a hole in the floor for your legs. The mood is great, the food towering and delicious. But more about that in a separate entry. But hey, Mariola, here's a little spoiler for you. ; )
Oh yeah, there was something else. Maybe it's karma. Maybe it's a test of patience? I knew we had a snorer among us. I found that out in the 4-person room. I hit the jackpot. A double room with the cowboy. If I had quickly realized what was coming and above all known what was coming, I would have coordinated with Miho for him to get the single room.
I'm lying in bed with my sleep mask on and my special earplugs in.
'Attention, attention, the chainsaw fair is open! At the beginning, we present to you the entry-level models. Handy, quiet in operation.'
Apparently, it wasn't as bad as expected. Well then, I can finally sleep through the night.
'And to your left, you will find the professional models! They make all the discounts! Wrooom! Wroooom!'I move up a level. Grab my in-ear headphones. I praise the active noise canceling at every opportunity. When I take them out at home by the highway, I'm always amazed at their effectiveness. Plus tried and tested soothing sleep music, 12-hour version. What could go wrong? It sounds relaxing.
'AND HERE YOU WILL FIND THE NASA MODELS! LATEST SPACE TECHNOLOGY! THEY CUT EVERY MOON INTO TWO PIECES AND ARE LOUD LIKE THE BIG BANG!'
I've heard of women who stabbed their husbands with a knife in the middle of the night. They couldn't stand the snoring anymore. Slowly, I begin to understand... I try to turn it into a meditation challenge. I check if my phone has gotten quieter for some reason. Nope. I turn it up louder. 'RELAX WITH THE HELP OF THIS GENTLE MEDITATION!' mentally resounds.
Love it - Change it - Leave it
Okay, love it is ruled out for some reason. Can't put my finger on it.
Changing it makes sense. I have nothing to throw here. Except my backpack.
Leave it! I grab my futon, go up and down to the common room three times, finally find peace there. My pulse pounds in my ears, it takes me over an hour to fall asleep. It's cold down here. 14°C. Better freeze externally than die internally.