Vegetable Sandwich

So after an extraordinary bus ride to Takayama, we were greeted by our colleague Kuniko. She bundled us off in a taxi and said good-bye. We arrived at our new home in the dark. Like I mentioned in my last post, jet lag had its way with me and turned my generally quite realistic mind in to a much darker version of itself. In my mind, Takayama was a creepy, one horse town. How wrong I was. The house was cold and decorated in a multitude of colours and patterns. The previous teachers Leo and Georga were still living in the house so we stayed in the guest room. It was freezing and every room had a kerosene heater so you had to run from room to room to escape the cold. 

The next morning we had to start training for our job. I don’t think in my life I have ever been as tired as I was in that week. Our boss Keith had driven down from another town to meet us and show us around and I don’t think I said one word to him. I had a glazed over, zombie look and could barely compute anything anyone said to me. I had to rely on Rob heavily. He was perky and excited and happy. Thank God somebody was. I was hanging on by a string, exhausted and emotionally wrought. Our boss took us to this strange little café and ordered vegetable sandwiches and hot chocolate for us. The hot chocolate was cold and the sandwich consisted of cucumber and tomato sauce. For some reason, this was the last straw for my little over tired mind and my lip started to quiver. I nibbled on a corner of my sandwich, not because I wanted to eat it but because it was the only thing I could do to stop myself crying at the table.

Looking back now, it’s ridiculous, but at the time, I don’t think I had ever felt so hysterically tired and overwhelmed. I kept thinking that I had been banging on about Japan for so bloody long and then I dragged over my poor husband to this awful place that was freezing and ugly. The first few days were rough, I was grumpy and unimpressed and tired. I must have cried myself to sleep for the first few nights. Rob was understandably confused, his usually brave and strong wifey, a little sobbing wreck. Erg. Tres embarrassing! I sent sad, heartfelt emails home with stories of bad food and culture shock and wanting to come home.

But alas! Here we are, over a month since we arrived and we couldn’t be happier. It turns out all I needed was a weeks rest and some cherry blossoms to lift me out of my strange mini depression. I don’t think I have ever lived in such a beautiful place. It’s peaceful and colourful and clean. I have become obsessed with the snow capped mountains in the same way Cape Townians are obsessed with their table. 

I think this photograph really captures my mood. It was taken as we were walking around a ski resort after the snow had melted, which, for the record is completely depressing, like when a fairground leaves town.