Tokyo on nhaima

On living in the time zone

Sun, 23 Jul 2017 17:49:26 +0000

Here where I am, in Tokyo, it is evening — almost night.

Where you are there is still sun, and perhaps you are out somewhere eating an ice cream.

God, how I would love an ice cream right now — hazelnut and pistachio. And maybe some cream on top.

I really should be making dinner, but I have no desire to. I will smoke something, then sleep. Maybe, if Morpheus deigns to grant me the favour.

Perhaps first I will sink into the bath, water at 38 degrees to dissolve some of these thoughts.

The ofuro: something the Japanese cannot do without. It is more than a habit — it is an almost constant element of their daily life.

Today I needed to hear from you, but while I was trying to prise my eyes open after a somewhat sleepless night, you were going to bed, or perhaps already asleep. And who am I to interrupt your sleep? That precious moment of the day that I am beginning, a little, to forget what it feels like.

To tell the truth, I did pick up my phone, did open WhatsApp, was given a smile — but then I let it go.

I waited 8 hours.

7 time zones plus one. To give you at least enough time to get your coffee and realise a new day had begun; while mine was slowly drawing to a close.

I waited 8 hours.

8 hours imagining you awake and daydreaming about how you might have spent this last Sunday in May. Who knows what the weather is like where you live; I could find out in an instant, but I enjoy ignoring it and carrying on imagining.

Hints of everyday life

Fri, 22 Apr 2016 02:44:15 +0000

Interior, night. Room 503-A of the Akamonkai Nippori Ryo. It is the eve of the weekend and it all began only two weeks ago. It is raining; the wind has finally stopped chasing itself up the stairwell of this building, and I can now perceive almost every single sound — and silence — of the lives in these apartments.

The earth, however, is trembling. Light, constant, sometimes imperceptible; other times with more intention. It does so often, when you least expect it; and even though you know it will happen again, you never find yourself quite ready enough to go along with it.

Japan is like this — it trembles often — and little by little you get used to it; it is a bit like an uninvited friend who drops in unannounced every so often.

Though, to be honest, I do not know whether I will ever truly get used to it. But my days are slowly filling with habits and rituals, with a whole new everyday routine that I like, that makes me feel light, fresh, full of life, charged with an energy I had forgotten.

There is the 8:30 alarm for work, messages with the family who gets up early to go to the office and cannot wait to hear from me, and school that takes up most of my week. Then there is the 4:30 ritual — the phone call with the people I love, while I walk through the streets of Nippori towards the Main Campus library where my new classmates are waiting to study together; the walks around Yanaka, the shopping at Inageya, coffee for everyone on Sunday morning up on the terrace.

Bow to the East, course set for Tokyo

Fri, 18 Mar 2016 11:48:30 +0000

I do not know where to begin, so I will say it all in one breath: I am moving to Tokyo!

Yes, I made it! Those who know me a little will understand that this is practically a dream come true — and to tell the truth, I still cannot quite believe it entirely :D

I am in a very particular mix of feelings that are difficult to describe.

I am used to travelling alone and for long stretches — I have done so since I was young, since my school days — but this time it is quite different.

In the dimension of travel in which, for better or worse, I had always moved, I was at ease because I had no great worries; I knew with relative certainty when I would return, roughly what I would see and how I would get around; there was no fear or confusion, there was mainly excitement, joy, and a great deal of curiosity to visit and experience a new country and a culture unknown to me.

There was movement, however slow.

Now, by contrast, there is something entirely different, something opposite: there is “stability.” A stability that, even if temporary (perhaps — who knows), I am transplanting completely into another country.

Because in Tokyo I will go to school every day to study the Japanese language, I will have a home to share, a job, groceries to buy, bills to pay, a city to discover and friends to meet. In short, that “normal” life which, for better or worse, I have always led here in my hometown or in Ventotene during the diving season.

Japan: the Ghibli Museum

Thu, 26 Dec 2013 16:59:54 +0000

A journey into the wonders of Japanese animation

For lovers of Japanese animation and of the master Hayao Miyazaki, there is a magical place that absolutely cannot be missed if you are travelling to Tokyo. This place is the Ghibli Museum of Art, situated in Mitaka, a district to the west of Tokyo, about 20 km from the centre, reachable in approximately 20 to 30 minutes from Shinjuku.

Museum exterior entrance - Photo by Marcello Barnaba

Visiting the museum is like stepping completely inside one of Miyazaki’s animated films, with all its magic, its fascination, its extraordinary genius. The Museum has been open since 2001 and was strongly desired — and entirely designed — by Hayao Miyazaki. Exactly as he does for his films, for the museum too he first sketched drawings and drafts and then handed everything to the team so they could create an incredible structure from them.

The Museum is situated inside a park, surrounded by greenery, and extends upwards rather than horizontally. At the entrance is a large, very high hall, where on one side you will find the cinema in which you can watch one of the short films projected exclusively at the museum, while on the other side a series of small rooms unfolds where you can observe and interact with the various animation mechanisms used for the production of the films.

Cinema ticket - Photo by Simona Forti

Going up to the next floor, there is then the room for younger visitors, where honestly I would have liked to go in myself. This room houses a large “Neko Bus” where children can play and have fun, sitting inside it just as in the film “My Neighbour Totoro” :-D On the same floor you will find the souvenir shop “Mamma Aiuto!” where you can buy absolutely everything! Pins, notebooks, plush toys, magnets, small towels, t-shirts, character figurines, and much more. A true paradise for lovers of his films.