Mr. Murakami and the straw donkey

Perry in Yokohama

When I was working on the Dream issue for the Cold River Review I had a dream that was woven into a  Haruki Murakami novel. It gave me some confidence that I would be able to interview him for the issue. In Mr. Murakami's worlds the lives of somewhat flat heroes are layered through tunnels of the subconscious and the surreal. That played right into the fantasy that my dream had meaning to not only me but to him. But as many threads in his novels do the anticipation ended without any tidy resolution. Time past without the interview.The dream comes up again.
I'm looking at a picture of Admiral Perry's black ships. The Americans and the Japanese on the sea-saw. Freedom and individually on one side and conformity and cooperation on the other. The attraction of opposites. Inexorably drawn by the strong contrast.
For years I've had this recurring dream of being in Japan--usually I'm entering the complicated labyrinths of the subway systems. Usually trying to remember the way to get to a friend's and to also try to once again gain my footing in Japan. There are always little shops selling sushi and other Japanese delectables. "I must be in Japan again," I think to myself with both excitement and anticipation. So I most naturally assume.

the Tokyo system

Well, "I must be in Japan again," I thought outside a little shop in a larger store (mall?) as I had a déjà vu that was so strong I had to sit down to let it pass. I really lost track of what was what--a kind of spiral of some strange awareness that I only hear an echo of, crashing on me. How to decipher any of it.

shopping

Always the non in non-conformist, the one who gave the teacher pains, I find myself so inextricably drawn to this culture of rule, protocol, hierarchy, custom and conformity. Why?.
What is totally amazing to me is that this group mind works--(at least on one level) a well tuned Miataki machine.
On the way at 7:30 PM to teach I'm baffled by how the buses not only come exactly on time but that the bus stops have an audio announcement telling that bus so and so is going to be arriving shortly. In Japanese and English. 凄いですね。
While waiting for an interview in an overly hot room my flu/cold started really hitting me. I felt faint and dizzy, heart started skipping and palpitating. I was lost in a Murakami moment of torture, blood spurting all over, for all my demons we're getting in their punches. My body might have been sweating a little--maybe I had a fever--but inside I was truly being roasted. The only way out that I came up with was the sword of beneficence--chanting and smiling-- while I was being carved up.
I got back to Sunadabashi just in time to pick Kaime up from his school. Walking back home with him, talking and drinking Grape Fanta; the wind was strong enough for a good kite day.

Today I am sick enough not to go out but the demons are sleeping...mostly. (The dead body in the locker by the swimming pool woke me up even though it being there was totally reasonable.)