Author: Iris

I have stopped playing Contract Bridge. The reason is a bit complicated, so bear with me…

There is this woman in the Bridge Club who comes every now and then, and I didn’t like her very much from the beginning. However, she seemed to have taken quite some fancy to me for some reason or other… It turned out that she was very controlling and pushy towards me (to the point of stalking me) and she apparently saw me as some sort of new project of hers that required improvement. I tried to restrict contact and block her advances as much as possible, but things are not always running as smoothly. Since she had backed off in the end, however, I thought the problem was solved.

Unfortunately, I was wrong… The moment I left the Bridge Club, that woman started talking badly about me, even telling blatant lies about me to the other members, especially to the lady who runs the club, who appears to be a special friend of hers. In the end, she caused quite a stir, to the point where my closest friend from the club wanted to talk to me. I explained my view of the whole story to her and at least she believed me.

However, my friend advised me – since the damage was already done and there’s virtually nothing I can do about it – that it would be better if I would not return to the Bridge club, and that I should look elsewhere if I want to continue playing. This is a rather typical Japanese reaction in order to keep the peace for the rest of the members: expel the troublemaker (and from their point of view that’s me), stop talking about the subject matter, and pretend that nothing has happened.

The interesting thing about this is that I had expected something like this to happen. The very first time I had met that woman I had a very bad feeling about her – a feeling that I have had only a handful of times in my life, and I had never been wrong. I knew that this woman would start badmouthing me the moment I turned my back upon her and the club, and I knew that it was unlikely that I would be able to return once she had finished her dirty deed.

Oh well, let’s chalk this up to experience with respect to human nature; funny that I seem to get better at it the older I become. I’ll get over it; besides, there are many other places where to play Contract Bridge, I’ll just have to go looking for them.

I love clocks and watches, especially mechanical ones. For example, I have a gorgeous alarm clock in my bedroom; I bought it more than 20 years ago and I need to wind it up every morning, but it still works perfectly.

Or, even though I only wear it when I have an appointment for which I cannot be late, I also invested in a lovely, decent chronograph watch after my last swatch gave up the ghost. And even though it is obviously a men’s watch, I prefer its clear lines over any and all bling that usually comes with women’s watches. In fact, if they ever make this one in a size that looks less like a soup plate on my wrist, I will buy it immediately. (Waves to Switzerland…)

Anyway, back to Japan… The wall clock in my office died just before my vacation, so I needed to replace it. I did not really have a clear idea of what I wanted, but since my office has a rather eclectic style, I was pretty free in my choice. And then I found this:

Yes, okay, it is a plastic made-in-China thing running on batteries and automatic radio timer, but I just love the retro look. It reminds me of something, but I just cannot put my finger on it… Any ideas?

I was at a party yesterday evening. It was a strange one – a mixture of Birthday party, celebrations for my and my friend’s passed soroban exam, and a farewell party… My soroban friend is leaving Japan and will go back to his home country for a while. He is planning to come back some time in spring next year, and I hope he will do enough training to pass his next soroban exam, after all he still has to match my grade…

It feels strange not to have him around for a while. We were not really close, but whenever I needed help with some particularly onerous task (like getting internet), he would be my go-to person. He would solve the problem quickly, efficiently, and without complaining. In return, I would introduce him to all sorts of strange restaurants and places he would not have gone alone (neither would have I, but that’s beside the point). If he ever develops an addiction to Tiramisu, you know who’s to blame…

My dear friend, I hope to see you again next spring during hanami. I hope your plans unfold smoothly and without hiccups. And if there are any, I hope you’ll find a friend over there just as helpful and patient as you were mine here.

Take care!

After a very hot day that had me once again run (or rather: bike) from one appointment to the next, I came home quite tired. However, in the evening, I was treated to a wonderful split sunset. Usually, there are two types of sunsets in Kyoto: either the colorful ones in dark red, bright orange or yellow, or a very soft pink, or the ones that show a silvery blue sky, often lined with dark grey clouds.

Today was different: The sky towards the south was gleaming in a bright orange-yellow, whereas the northern half was covered in clouds and mist and showed different shades of blue. It almost seemed as if it was raining in that particular part of town, but I am not sure. In any case, when I looked towards the east, the hills and rooftops there were bathed in a soft pink color for a short time, something I had never noticed before.

I took pictures of course, but I had forgotten to change the settings of my camera after the night photos of the daimonji last week, so they did not turn out very well, unfortunately. However, I have plenty of old sunset pictures, so I’ll show you this one again, all in orange:

The Japanese attention to detail and to do things just so amazes me every day anew. Many people here take extreme pride in their work, no matter what it is, no matter how insignificant the detail seems. Especially when it comes to handicraft, the result is always superb. I once watched somebody sew a border strip of cloth onto a tatami, the measuring and remeasuring, the adjusting the strip of cloth and the machine, the measuring once again and the stitching one by one took almost 30 minutes. For one half of a standard, 2 m long tatami.

Of course, nobody is perfect, and every now and then, a little imperfection may slip through despite all the care that has been exercised. For example, a friend of mine is taking urushi classes, where people make their own lacquerware. As written in my post about urushi, a single piece can take months to complete, and the process is quite intricate.

During class, my friend made a small natsume container to be used at tea ceremony to hold the powdered tea. It is a very simple black lacquer cup in matte finish inside and highly polished at the outside, without further adornments. She said it took her six months to complete and it sits on a small red cushion in her tatami room next to her other tea utensils.

The other day, we were talking about it and I complimented her on her beautiful work, and she responded that it was junk because of a mistake she made. So I took a closer look at it to see what was wrong with it, but try as I might, I couldn’t find anything – until my friend turned it upside down. On the bottom of it, there was a tiny speck of dust embedded in the lacquer, smaller than one millimetre in diameter, and invisible for anyone but the most curious of people. But because of this tiny imperfection, her work was considered substandard and could not be sold anymore.

Which leads to the question: when does attention to detail turn into an obsession?