after dark

i just finished murakami's after dark, in german.

it's a very simple story: the encounters between people after midnight. eri in an unnatural slumber, her sister mari reading in a denny's and meeting takahashi, a law student playing trombone with his band for the last time, kaoru the love hotel manager, the chinese prostitute, shirokawa who beat the chinese up, grille the co-worker at the love hotel fleeing for the past few years.

this story is about the distance between people. the inability to completely comprehend people, even people whom you ought to know really well. that unbridgeable gap.

the book alternates between the encounters and the observation of the sleeping eri. the people mari met all somehow lead her back to herself or her sister eri, and because they are sisters, ultimately the evaluation of their relationship, and the distance between them. on the other hand, the observation of eri exposes her vulnerability, confirming takahashi's suspicions and mari's misconceptions.

and this distance is all the more increased when at the end, mari reveals her imminent departure for beijing.

another theme is that of being haunted, being pursued, trying to run away from reality, yet being caught by it. shirokawa running away from his crime; the way his reflection remains on the mirror is the perfect symbol. grille being pursued. eri sleeping to evade society, yet living a nightmare in her sleep.

the third theme is that of dual personality, which is dealt with here with the aid of time. the characters, even the city, seem to take on a different persona when light gives way to darkness and vice versa. which is then our real self? or is there even a real self?

together, these three themes converge on the idea of alienation, the search for one's identity. being one, yet part of a collective. belonging, yet not belonging. the very nature of one's existence.

murakami also made references to kafka and sartre. takahashi's description of the court reminds one of kafka's the trial, while the observation of eri by the unknown man seems to be a reference to sartre's concept of the gaze, namely we become an object in others' perspective, bringing into doubt the nature of our existence. there you have it, existence again.

reading this book is very different from reading his previous stuff. not because this time i read it in german. i think it's because this is the first time i am putting down very clearly what i think he is trying to say, trying to organise my thoughts, trying to link everything together to give it a proper dissection.

why is this happening? maybe because now i have more time. maybe because coming back to murakami after a while has given me a new perspective on how to do things.

eduardo

you might wonder why i never talked about eduardo's injury.

the reason is that i didnt see it until a few moments ago. i didnt manage to watch the first half of the game because it couldnt load properly on my net. when you just hear confirmation of the extent of the injury through the commentary, that it 'is a broken foot, definitely out for the rest of the season', you won't really know that it is that serious, because people get sidelined for 6 months because of knee injuries as well; injuries that you can't really see, although they cause a lot of pain.

someone told me that he saw the close up of the injury, how awkward the bone was, that he really cringed when he saw it.

i only saw the tackle. and that is enough. i feel guilty that i only know about it now. how it happened, saw for myself how serious it was.

god bless you.

i was too harsh. it isnt easy to keep playing after you see something like that happen to a teammate. but that doesnt mean we should forgive ourselves for dropping those 2 points, because the best possible reaction then would be to take it all out on birmingham. for him.

now you say you want to win the title for him.

remember that you said that.

weekend roundup

a disappointing weekend finally draws to a close. if you are in england, it can be aptly summarised as: a tale of two leftbacks. gael clichy singlehandedly opened the door for man u to keep up the pressure, while wayne bridge literally handed the carling cup to tottenham. the moment the penalty went in, i knew chelsea were never going to win the carling cup. you watch enough games to develop a natural instinct for the way things would go.

before you get it wrong, this is not part of the disappointment; whether spurs or chelsea win the carling cup is of no significance to me, even though chelsea winning it would mean spurs are all but out of europe next season and that would be something to smirk about. but then again, i would like to only focus on ourselves. even if man u get relegated, if we dun win the title, i dun see why i have a reason to smile. all too often, we forget that the one to beat is ourselves, the one to look at is ourselves.

valencia are forever mired in the middle of the la liga. maybe it is time to say goodbye to silva, villa and joaquin. and maybe vicente. massive disappointment because there is talent in the squad, especially attacking talent. it is the midfield that is not ticking: the two center mids cant get things going, cant give the ball to the attacking four.

ajax brought some cheer, with a 3-2 win at breda, but 9 points with 8 games to go is really a massive chasm. jonny heitinga never fails to impress me. i think as a defender, he has gotten quite a few important goals for ajax this season. that is the extra quality he brings to the team, a fighter through and through.

on a brighter note, J-League is starting again, after the fiasco that is the east asian champs. it is really time for japan to stop taking part in it, if taking part in it means getting insulted. the team conducted itself with dignity. but i feel sorry for the fans, who have gone there in good spirit, yet gone away abused.

i read somewhere about a chinese professor saying the future of east asia lies in the approach china takes. i fully agree. if one side doesnt want to take a step back, we will have no end of it. the sad thing is that it's probably only a minority.

one of the biggest transfers that din take place this close season is that of yosuke kashiwagi. good for the relegated sanfrecce, but in my opinion, for the good of japan, he should have gone to a bigger team. they keep saying he is young, but he is turning 21 this december. half a year younger than fabregas. it isnt fair to compare this way, but if you look at it, relatively speaking, shouldn't he, as one of japan's brightest talents be already called up to the national team, be playing some sort of role for a really big team, if not an important role? playing in the lower division and at u23 level will not speed up his development. the best young talents must already be up there rubbing shoulders with the veterans. if not at a top team, at least a middle team. certainly not in J2.

contrary to many J-League watchers, i think Urawa Reds won't come close to winning the title. 75% sure.

GAEL CLICHY. this is not the first time your sillinesss cost us points. why do i put you there? you can't put a cross into the box, you throw away two points. i might as well put armand traore there.

i can perfectly understand gallas' frustration. what the hell. what a fool. in fact the whole team played like fools. 10 men, and you can't even beat them 5-1. you got the lead and then you don't kill them off. you smile and smile at the missed chances and then you sweat in the last 10 minutes because they keep sending long balls, a style of play that doesn't require brains, but puts a lot of pressure on a defence that presses high up. and then you make this kind of mistake with one minute to go. i thought we stopped being a charity.

adebayor- 4
he was through on goal, bendtner was free. instead of passing, he went himself and the keeper saved. if he had scored, then nothing to say. but the third goal was important. he made that decision, he din pull it off, he has to take responsibility for it. not just that, on the whole he played like shit as well.

bendtner- 5
only marginally better than adebayor.

hleb-6
did all the attacking, did shoot. but din shoot at the right times. true, had good shots, but in the situations where he really ought to shoot, he passed. tts sheer stupidity.

fabregas- 6
average game

walcott-7
did everything you could have asked from him. scored two goals when adebayor and bendtner were playing like idiots upfront.

flamini- 5
gave away that freekick. gave away a lot of balls. very sloppy.

clichy-1

senderos-5

gallas-5

sagna-6
played his usual steady game. certainly can cross much better than clichy.

almunia-5
to be fair, other than the two goals, he was ok. the penalty, nothing to do abt it. maybe the freekick, but he shouldnt be put in this position.

arsene wenger-5
those two substitutions were all wrong. in the last 5 minutes, you need to calm things down, but you also need the possession. you need to be able to win back possession. you bring on denilson who can pass the ball, and gilberto who can't press for nuts. the result? you have three walking players in midfield- fabregas, gilberto and denilson. but you can't attack, because your two best attacking players- hleb and walcott are off. these substitutions are all wrong. you end up with only 5 players- your four defenders and flamini, because those two upfront can't win the ball back for you.

an 8point lead became 3 point. we have been here before, and we have done it again.

WELL DONE.

marco van basten and juergen klinnsmann seem to be following the same path destiny had marked out for them. thrusted into the positions of leading their countries without a proven track record, and now given the jobs of leading the biggest clubs of their respective countries. klinnsmann has got the edge: germany did so much better in the world cup compared to holland. of course at the euro this summer, germany isn't being led by klinnsmann, but the football philosophy of loew is largely the same as klinnsmann's. but come the summer, klinnsmann will be taking charge of bayern, and van basten ajax. but first, i hope van basten can produce some magic in switzerland/austria. he's got to change some of the players he's using first.

ronaldo's career has surely come to an end. i was never his fan, but you would feel for him, all that he has gone through, the many surgeries. he is 31, and maybe it is time for him to retire for good.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iVL45uWO-R0
some of the fouls were quite amazing. of course if i had written this last night, it would have been very different, the language and all. but after a good night's sleep, i have sufficiently calmed down to look at this in a more detached manner.

well, i think the whole thing was a sham. not just the fouling, but also the officiating. the fouled were seen as the foulers. i think okada must have thought it was april already.

maybe china can be the new rugby champions. move over, south africa.

how many chances do you need?

i think if we ignore the scoreline, we played rather well. 6/10. 7/10 for attacking, 5/10 for defending, because i think we defended very naively at times. true, we shut out seedorf, pato and kaka for 80 percent of the time. but they could have punished us that 20% of the time. we gave them too much space then.

but if we consider the score, i think we are worth only 5.

so many shots straight at the keeper. milan were begging to be slaughtered with some of their defending. so many gaps in this usually-so-organised defence.

i can't believe we didnt kill them off by the first 10 minutes of the second half.

this was a great contest. credit to both sides. but we could have won 4-0 at least.

now we need to go to san siro and score. i can't believe we threw it away.

now, go and destroy birmingham.

Looking back,

2001-2005
Love in the darkest hour
Like
Like 2
Requiem
You
Foreign
War-torn
Today I die
Ten winters
Deathtrap
27th March
The commoner
Damnation of God
The little girl at the door
Maybe
The masterpiece
Wer Bist Du
Seasons
The dead man
Lost in Madrid
Style Infinity

2006
528 a hangover
Always together
Tokyo story
Sara
Defeat
For you on your first birthday without you
Muenchner
Leo to Suzanne
100 words to you
Glass
Anew
You are not alone

2007: Venprek Series
A beautiful dream
A walk
Bad day in Neusstak
Bus stop in Mechantre
Café in Matisse
Cold in Venprek
Drinking in Riverafran
Flight 87
Flower in Tjen Droonen
Giovanni's
Gran Libre in Alksstak
Guardian Angel
Hairdresser in Mezague
Last sunset
Lost in Alksstak
Meditation
My father
New year in Futuro
Princess of Venprek
Sad Song in Millenario
Second Chance
Sereven
Stad Rouchoda
Substitute
Sunset in Alkshavaar
Timeless bakery in Botinche
Vanille
Venpreker Harz
VIF
West
West to east
Youness-Cabaye
Zentraal

2007
Domani
Keiko
8 at the Spanish Café
14 September 2007
A year
Chance
Closed Door
Corrine
Dasenai Tegami
December
Emotionspacetime
He and she
If
If I were to run into you again
Kyoto's Gion
Nadine and Danielle
Parting
Profound Sadness
Summer Vacation
Thank you, sorry and goodbye
That girl called Joan
Two years
Walk with you

2008
Prince of Venprek
Memories
101 steps

i realised i wrote quite a lot of stuff in 2007.

i started from things which resembled poems. 2001-2005. 2005 was also the first time i wrote very short texts. in 2006, i dabbled in a few more works that resembled poems. and of course, tokyo story was written that april, marking a shift in style. i consider tokyo story my first long story, because i feel that muenchner was really badly done. someday, i will return to that idea and do some justice to it.

why did i stop writing the things that resemble poems? i don't really know. but i remembered someone telling me once that just because a person writes something that looks like a poem doesnt mean that person is poetic. maybe that was the turning point.

if my stuff ever sounds murakami-esque, it is purely coincidental. it's true that i have read most of his stuff, but i wrote tokyo story even before i started reading his works. and back in 2002 or 2003, i wrote a story in chinese, after which my chinese teacher told me to read murakami. i waited till 2006 before i decided to try his works, because i was running out of ideas as to who to read. and then i realised why my teacher had made that recommendation. i like his works alot because i can identify with him, relate to his themes, as well as understand and appreciate his style, which i think you either love or hate. a lot of people have gushed about him; a lot have slammed his stuff as nonsense as well.

i would be honored if you find that there is any resemblance, but i must make it very clear that i did not copy his style, or whatever.

most of my stuff are actually built from ideas/concepts/ scenarios/lines that suddenly come to me, or which i heard somewhere, or seen somewhere.

101 steps came about because i was telling my brother i could write a story if he would give me a line. that line was: it snowed today, on the anniversary of his death.

"Bus Stop" in emotion.space.time came about because the train i was on was passing by a bus stop where a couple was waiting.

that's why i always believe that ideas can come anytime, from anywhere.

my favourites

Poem-like thing
Love, In The Darkest Hour

In the immense belly of the great bird,
Shadows emerge with blades drawn, the very personifications of lunacy,
Seizing control of it,
As they remain rooted in their seats, filled with trepidation.
As these shadows guide all to their doom,
He calls her to tell her of the impending chaos
And how much he loves her

Impact.
Thousands marooned in the doomed towers,
Some escape, as though Lady Luck has been smiling on them,
The rest without a single chance.
She clasps her hands and whispers to God,
How much she loves her family and friends,
Then falls from eighty stories.

People swarm around the towers,
As they burn with unmatched fury.
Suddenly, unheralded, they collapse,
Amidst a great ball of smoke and flames.
Many feet below, the atmosphere escalates into a climax of hysteria
A black and a white seek solace in an embrace
As thousands cry helplessly for their beloved.

Elsewhere, in a land thousands of miles away
A man with grizzled hair holds a telephone,
Hand shaking as his wife holds a photograph
Of their son.
They tell him, that his son is dead
And he sinks to his feet,
Begging God to bring him back.

A moment of silence around the world
As it mourns for the dead.
She, clutches a photograph of him
As tears stream down her melancholic countenance.
A zephyr stirs the leaves
She feels his presence near
And thinks that it is his face she sees in the sky
Separated from hers by an eternal distance
That exists only in the mortal realm.

i think it isnt well-written, but it is one of the first stuff i ever wrote. and it was at a time when the world was still sane, when everything was still within comprehension. i say 'still', because right after this, or i should say, with this, everything changed. if we had thought 9/11 was bad enough, what about today's world?

Short Text
Thank You, Sorry, Goodbye
http://korihikage.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html
i like it because it is rather surreal. two people on the verge of leaving each other, yet taking it so calmly, so detachedly. and i think when you part from someone who has been very dear to you, these are the words which would encompass all the things you want to say to that person.

Long Story
Domani
http://korihikage.blogspot.com/2007/10/domani-5.html

memories was the story which i had spent the longest time on. but domani is still my favourite, partly because of the way it came about. i was on the train back to camp when i saw these three teenagers at the open area beside woodlands mrt. they were just standing there. that was when i knew what i had to write. the whole journey back to camp was spent jotting down the ideas that came very furiously onto a notebook. i couldnt sleep, because the ideas were coming, and i was trying to arrange them. all i was waiting for was midday so that i could go home and start.

the moment i reached home, i started writing till i came to a mental block, until i really din noe how to write on anymore. i dun like the second part, from the part after ken came back. that was where i got stuck. i dun like the second part, especially the ending. but looking back, i would still have done the same.

I also like Domani a lot because writing it brought back alot of fond memories. memories i never had.

the characters
it might sound silly saying this, but a very big reason why it is very tiring to write, especially the long ones, is because i always get very attached to the characters. seeing things from their perspectives, and being able to see things from the others' perspectives, thereby knowing things they wouldnt know, make me bear part of their burden.

if some characters are very unknown, or flat, such as Florian and Fabian in memories, it's simply because that's the way it was meant to be. a lot of times, i am using first person narrative, so what you see is what that person sees. and that's limited. i think that's more realistic, and in a way, more beautiful, because there are many things which we dont know, and we will never know, from this particular perspective.

and its also meant to be like this, so that the reader can fill in the gap himself; it's up to him to interpret. i think i always leave a few questions unanswered. maybe i dun have the answers to them as well. its really up to u to decide, based on what you know. and we always have the advantage of being able to draw conclusions from a few perspectives, while a character only has his perspective to rely on.

i think another thing which i have a habit of doing is to zoom into a specific time of a specific scene. meaning: come straight into the middle of nowhere; you don't know how the situation came about. the best example would be keiko. it's really an experiment in style: random, intense images.

i think this concept is very linked to my personal preference. like why i like to watch mvs, and why i think good movies are best kept to 1.5 hours, because you can cut away all the unimportant parts. and of course, the randomness. now you know why i prefer movies like sugar and spice, once and crying out love in the middle of the world, rather than spider man, harry potter. i prefer emotion to action.

my favourite character, who is also the girl whom i would most likely fall in love with is Kanna Ito from domani.

if you have ever read my stuff, and like any particular ones, do let me know which. and if there is any girl whom you think is the kind of girl you would fall in love with, let me know that as well.

and if there is any work which you want to read, but can't find in the blog, just tell me. i'll send.

and if you ever want to write, write.

or if you don't to, but have a nice line/idea/scenario, i'll see what i can do wif it.

mentality and the crowd

we should only be interested in two mentalities.

the winger mentality
wait on the flank for the chance to run. and when the chance comes, move so fast that the opponent can't even react.

the playmaker mentality
be right in the thick of things, stringing passes, making things work.

we always say we need to have guts. i think a very big part of what guts means is the ability to play in a stadium.

if you want to play with the best, on the highest level, you have to learn first to play in front of a crowd. in front of an intimidating crowd. you have to be able to shut out the crowd. block them out and do what you need to do.

only when you have learnt this can you play on the highest level.

i am not really talking about football here.

cryuff's words

"Italianen kunnen niet van ons winnen, maar we kunnen wel van ze verliezen"

Italians can't beat us, but we certainly can lose against them.

johann cryuff's words returned to haunt us.

how many games have we lost this season? 0-3 to sevilla, 1-2 to boro, 1-5 to spurs, now 0-4 to man u. you don't even have to look at the games in detail. the score lines say everything. we didnt show up to play. we simply gave the game on the platter for them.

this has got to be man u's easiest game in their whole campaign. when pple like darren fletcher and nani can score, that sums it all. i mean, even bentley couldnt do anything.

was gilberto even playing? when man u attacked, the defence was so exposed, so flat because he isnt standing in front of the defence. and this game has taught me the importance of the two full-backs. seriously, you just have to look at justin hoyte to know why we arent buying english talent: because there isnt. armand traore played like a fool as well. the positioning of these three players gave the win to man u. yes, hleb, fabregas, gallas, toure, eduardo, bendtner all played like shit, but every goal came from this unholy triangle. and when u have lehmann in goal, perfectly set up for a thumping. and then eboue showed what a fool he (still) is by getting himself sent off.

milan, birmingham and man u. to me, milan and birmingham are more important than this game. but i didnt ask you to lose this game. at least not this pathetically.

what disappointed me most was that we didnt fight. if you even dare suggest we did fought, all i can say is that is the most pathetic piece of fighting i have ever seen. you might as well have stayed home and saved yourself the embarrassment.

Photos for memories

the traffic light where Woo Suk saw Kae for the first time.

Sophie's parents' tea shop

Mediapark: Woo Suk met Kae here.
Sophie's window.
Cafe where Kae worked.Mensa of Kae's school. Woo Suk saw her come up

Performance Hall The violin shop Kae and Woo Suk wentKae's house

Hohenzollern Bridge, where Kazuki and Sophie met again

The street and the junction where Kae got hit.

memories 7

I reached home and searched my apartment for something very dear to me.

I finally found it in a drawer, underneath a stack of paper which was part of my Japanese learning process.

Dear Sophie,

How are you?

It sounds kind of funny, isn’t it, writing a letter to yourself. A letter you might never even read again.

Anyway, how have you been? Back in Germany?

Summer’s very humid here. Otherwise, things are fine here. I love the food, I love the people here. My Japanese has improved a lot. I am really enjoying myself here. Recently, I have been travelling around. Nara, Himeji, Kyoto, Osaka, Kobe. Fuji as well. I am planning to go Hokkaido in winter for skiing and the seafood. I heard that it’s really great there. Fuji as well. It should be magnificent in winter. Have been taking a lot of photographs. In case my memory fails me.

How is he? I don’t know. Do you? But I really haven’t seen him in Tokyo. Just as well.

Sometimes, some people come into our lives for no reason at all. Suddenly; without warning.

They may stay for a long time. And they may then leave just as suddenly. But when they leave,
they leave your life in a mess. Like a typhoon. Even if they are physically no longer there, they will stay on in your memory. Like permanent footprints on your heart.

Stay strong, Sophie. I know you are fighting hard. Keep going.

Regards,
Sophie
24 July 2000

P.S. Happy birthday to us, all the ones uncelebrated. You never had the habit of celebrating your birthday, so after he left, I bet you just let your birthday pass without anything meaningful happening. I am right, am I not? So, happy birthday to you, and happy birthday to me, on my first birthday without him.
**
“Oh it’s you. We are closed,” she said when she noticed me standing at the entrance as she got out.

“I have been waiting for you.”

“Oh? What about it?”

“You might not believe it, but I am living in your old room.”
**
I told him everything. How we met, how we got together, how we separated, how I went to Japan, not knowing if I was going there to find him, to understand him, or to forget him by losing myself there. I told him about Fabian as well, and how hard it was for me to forget everything.

He listened to everything without a word and at the end of it all, said, “To remember is a form of respect. Respect to the people who were once important to you.”
**
“Kazuki! Here!”

“Oh!” I walked up to my old friend and hugged him. “How are you?”

“Good! It’s great to see you again.”

“Seems like we will be working again. But this time in Germany.”

“Yeah. Come, let’s go to your hotel.”

We got a cab outside Cologne Central Station. Soon, we reached the Hyatt on the other side of the Rhine. After I was properly settled down, we went down to the hotel lounge for drinks. I was putting up at the hotel till my apartment was ready. That was the arrangement by my company.

“Snowball, please,” I placed my order.

“I heard you were in Cologne before.”

“I was. Doing my masters.”

“So you don’t really need a tour of this place. Knowing you, you probably would have taken photographs of every corner here.”

“It has been a while, Yosuke. Things would have changed.”

“You haven’t changed a single bit.”

“I have.”

“What about the girl?”

“What girl?”

“I don’t know her name, but weren’t you seeing someone here? What happened to her?”

“I don’t know.”
**
The next day was a Sunday. I decided to take a walk to the old part of town. The Hohenzollern Bridge was still the same, imposing, linking the two sides of Cologne together.

I strolled along it, taking in the view of the riverbank, feeling the breeze on my face.

Right at the middle, we met. Even though it has been 7 years, I would still have recognised her.

Everything else was drowned out by the sound of the ICE crossing the bridge.
**
“What are you doing here?”

“I have been looking for someone.”

“Who?”

“Someone who has been trying to run away from me.”

“Seems like I can never run away from you.”
**
“How is Cologne since the last time I saw her?”

“Doing well. A lot has changed, yet a lot hasn’t. Why don’t you take a look for yourself?”

“Seems to be as you say.”

“How is Tokyo since the last time I saw him?”

“I don’t know. I was in Osaka for the past 7 years. Shortly after I reached Tokyo, I was posted to Osaka.”
**
“How far away are we from 1998?”

“We can never go back to that time.”

“But we can always start anew.”
**
Kae called me suddenly, telling me that she couldn’t make it for the movie. Rather than watch it alone, I decided to go home instead.

There was quite a crowd gathered at the junction leading into my street. Going closer, I saw an ambulance. Paramedics were lifting a young woman onto a stretcher. I ran forward.

It was Kae.

I got into the ambulance with them.

“Sir, you are not allowed in.”

“I am her husband!” I shouted in his face. He kept quiet and the driver shut the door. Soon, we were on our way to the hospital.

Kae was bleeding heavily. She was dashing across the road when a car turning out hit her.
She was in great pain, groaning. She was saying something, but it was too soft. I leaned closer to hear, holding her hand tightly.

“Flo-rian. Flo-rian.”

I never once let go of her hand till she entered the operating theatre.

It was too late; she lost too much blood.

I saw the last message she sent on her phone. To a Florian Michalak. “Florian, please don’t go. I really need you here with me.”

I went to Number 10. There, on the name signs outside was a Michalak. Just then, the door opened, and a young man with a suitcase stepped out. I knew then that I had seen him before.

At the concert. Leaving Kae’s house.

I understood then, everything.
**
Sophie and Kazuki got married and had a daughter, Johanna Niko. Johanna means ‘God is gracious’, while Niko means ‘second child’.

Is there ever a time where you hold back, because you think there would be another chance for you to do it? Have you ever asked yourself what you would do if you could do something over again?

We always think there is going to be a next time. But it isn’t always the case.

Some people will get that second chance.

I never got it.

Maybe in each of our lifetime, there is only one person whom we can say that we truly love.

Even if it is one-sided.

But still, it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
**
Kae, even if we were to turn back the clock, I would still have done the same.

I would still have loved you.

memories 6

Out of the blue, she suddenly asked to meet. After disappearing for three months, she suddenly sent a message, asking if she could come over that evening.

I was already getting used to being without her. I wanted to say no, but said yes.

I went to the supermarket to get some groceries for dinner.

She came at seven. I made dinner as she sat on the sofa, wordless.

She suddenly asked, “Can I play this CD?”

I turned my head. It was the new Silbermond single I had picked up. Das Beste. I nodded.

The music came on and I ladled the spaghetti on to the plates. I brought the plates over to the table. “Dinner’s ready.”

That was when I noticed the tears on her face. She wiped them away quickly when she realised I was looking. She managed a smile. “It’s a very nice song. First time I ever heard it. I don’t know when I would, or if I would even be able to hear it again. And if I do, I wonder what kind of feelings would I be carrying with me at that moment in time?”
**
10 December 1999
I have been ignoring you. I am sorry about that. But it hurts me a lot that you are leaving. You asked me to leave with you, but I am really not prepared. You might have been able to adapt to life here easily, but it wouldn’t be the same for me. I am not confident about living in Japan. What can I do there?

There are just too many differences. Asians are very different from us Europeans. Just look at you and me. You are always so focused, going all out, like you don’t know how to relax. I am always the one with the laidback attitude, taking things easy.

But it really hurts me a lot that you are leaving just like that.

But what do I want from you?

I don’t even know.

What right do I have to complain then?
**
Kae came back into my life. As though nothing had ever happened. Like before, I never asked much.
**
15 December 1999
I know I have been trying to run away. But now, when I am trying to turn back, you become the one running away, not picking up my calls, not replying my messages. Your curtains are drawn, you don’t answer the doorbell.

We are like two people who don’t need each other anymore: two people cutting away the string tying them together.

So why don’t you walk away?!

I...I think we are only hurting ourselves.
**
16 December 1999
You are probably somewhere over Central Asia now.

Maybe before you left, you had tried one last time to contact me. I wished.

But just in case, I made sure I was at work then.

Maybe it’s better like this. To give ourselves no chance at all. Put ourselves at the point of no return. A short intense pain, rather than prolonged agony.

Nothing lasts forever, I finally realise.

You have always known what you want. There is no place for me in your future.

And just like that, it ended with no chance of saying goodbye.
**
24 December 1999
It’s his birthday today. Unlike last year, he’s probably in Tokyo, while I am on my couch, watching a comedy in Spanish, in a language I don’t even understand.
I laugh at first, laughing at everything. Even though I don’t understand a single thing.
Then, my laughter turns into tears.
I am crying as I am writing this now.
God, I have never cried for a guy before. I must really, really love him a lot. A lot, a lot, a lot.
**
25 December 1999
It snowed today. Outside my window. I opened my window and marvelled at the falling snowflakes. They weren’t big, but they were still snow.

I just had an impulse to shout. In Japanese.

“It’s snowing! 25 December 1999. Cologne. It’s so pretty, isn’t it?

“Hey, are you watching?”

Merry Christmas, Kazuki.
**
“Sophie, why don’t you handle him? He looks Asian. Maybe he can’t speak much German.”

I shrugged. Not all Asians are Japanese, and Japanese and Chinese are rather different languages. Anyhow, I went forward to the customer.

“Hallo! My name is Sophie. Do you speak German?”

“A little.”

“All right. Please follow me.”

He nodded. I led him to an empty chair and asked in Japanese, “Pardon me for asking, but are you Japanese?”

He smiled and replied in Japanese, “I am not. But I grew up in Tokyo, so I speak Japanese.”

“Oh. So, you are...”

“I am Korean. You speak very good Japanese. Where did you learn it from?”

“I spent a year in Tokyo.”

“Study?”

“Well, in terms of hairstyling, yes,” I laughed.

We chatted in Japanese as I cut his hair. His name is Woo Suk, and he didn’t really know why he was in Cologne. He was learning German, and working at a Japanese restaurant. In many ways,
he reminded me of myself. And him.

Cutting Woo Suk’s hair was like cutting his hair.
**
After getting my haircut, I went home, because my landlord had invited me to his house for dinner. Even though I have been living in my present room for 11 months or so, this was the first time I was stepping into his apartment. He led me up the stairs to the dining area. There were many photographs along the wall. I stopped to take a closer look. He noticed me stopping and stopped as well.

“Those are my kids and grandchildren.”

“Oh...how many children do you have?”

“Three. Two boys and a girl. All much older than you, of course.”

“Is this your daughter?” I pointed out.

He nodded. “Yes, that is my daughter. She used to stay in your room. Oh, she speaks Japanese too.”

“What is her name?”

“Sophie. My eldest son is Stefan, my second son is Sebastian. All with ‘S’. Stefan is in Frankfurt, while Sebastian is in Hamburg. Sophie is living in Cologne.”
**
I was on the U-Bahn, going home from work. Sitting opposite me was a young guy. He had fallen asleep, but he was clutching something tightly in his hand. As though his life depended on it.
But gradually, his grip loosened, and that thing, which was so precious to him, which meant so much to him, fell out of his hand, to the floor.

Even God was telling him to let go.

Or was He telling me?
**
After dinner, I went back to my room and took out that diary.

1 January 2000
New millennium. Oh well, it has been widely disputed. But I don’t care. I am leaving for the airport soon.

You often say I don’t really understand you.

Maybe I don’t. Maybe I was naive to think that our love could conquer everything, could overcome all differences and obstacles. Of course I was proven wrong.

I am going to Tokyo, to try to understand you.

This was the last entry.

memories 5

17 February 1998
I had a missed call today. I was cutting a customer’s hair, so I left my phone in the drawer. After that, I checked my phone and saw that I had a missed call. Amazingly, it’s him. I called him back immediately.

He thanked me for the chocolates, and asked if I were free on Saturday, if I were interested in Japanese food. He’s cooking. Of course I said yes.

I can hardly believe it.
**
After my lessons, I took a walk along Neumarkt. I needed to clear my head a little, and to get over the disappointment of yesterday.

But at 6, half an hour before the planned meeting time, I had a rush of blood to my head. A sudden thought occurred to me. Maybe if I were to go there, she would turn up. As to why she never replied, maybe there was no particular reason, or maybe she just doesn’t have the habit of doing so. So many possible reasons; perhaps the reason was redundant.

Anyhow, I made my way to the cinema. I reached at 18:25. She was there.

We watched the movie, and had dinner together. I never asked her why she didn’t reply. It was no longer necessary.

We stopped at the same stop. I wanted to see her home, but she rejected my offer. Reluctantly, we parted at the station.

“Hey!” she suddenly called out.

I turned around. Her eyes were twinkling again. “Today isn’t any day you know.”

“Uh huh.”

“So are you in love with me?”

“Kimi ga…suki desu.”

She smiled and turned, waving as she skipped away.
**
21 February 1998
Had dinner at Kazuki’s. Omu-rice. Rice in an omelette. He made two different versions, one with ketchup, the other with curry sauce, which was spicier. He’s a really good cook. We drank rice wine as well, and chatted. Along the way, he taught me a bit of Japanese here and there, while I corrected his German. The little details.

You know, we could have talked on forever.
**
A few of my classmates asked me to join them for lunch. I was all right with it. They decided to go to the Musikhochschule, because it was cheaper there. When I heard the name of the place, I clarified to make sure I had heard it correctly. As it turned out, Kae’s school isn’t that far away from my school.

I trailed behind my classmates, lost in my own world.

“This is the place,” my classmate said.

To be honest, it wasn’t very impressive. Certainly not what I had in mind, considering that it’s a conservatory. It just wasn’t the kind of place where I would feel inspired in.

Anyhow, we got our food and found space for us. I scanned the crowd of students, hoping to see a familiar face- that face. No luck.

As we were eating, a group of girls came up the stairs to the tables, chatting loudly. My attention was immediately diverted to them. Kae. Kae with her violin case slung over her shoulder. She caught me looking and looked surprised, then shook her head in mock disapproval. I could only smile and wave. She was shaking her head as she followed her friends to another table on the opposite end.

We soon finished our meal and prepared to make our move. After returning our trays, my friends went to the toilet as I waited for them. I peered into one of the performance halls.

Suddenly, Kae’s face appeared beside my reflection.

“What are you looking at?”

I tapped on the glass.

“Me?”

Somehow, I had tapped on her reflection. I shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Anyway, this is for you,” she said, handing me a card.

“What is it?”

“Performance. Come if you have time. Bye bye,” She turned and left.

The students were holding a performance, a concert, whatever you call it.

Two weeks from now.
**
12 March 1998
We have been seeing each other a lot recently. Tea at his place, dinner at mine, dinner at his, out drinking, at this museum and that, walking along the Rhine, strolling through the Old Town… a lot, a lot of time spent together, yet never seemed to be enough.

I feel something. Something special.

Yet I am afraid. I am unsure. I wonder if I am thinking too much.

This doubt, this uncertainty, is like a poison, slowly spreading through you, paralysing you.
**
I went back to the café where Kae was working. But her colleague told me she wasn’t around. In fact, she wouldn’t be coming in for the next two weeks.

Made sense; she had to be busy preparing for the performance.

I left the cafe, not knowing what to feel.
**
14 March 1998
We took a slow walk along the Rhine, a nice romantic stroll, and then dinner on the bank. He asked if I would be his girlfriend.

And so, on White Day, we are officially together.
**
I got a bouquet of flowers for Kae.

I didn’t really know her tastes, so the florist tried to help me by asking questions about her.

What did she like, her favourite colours, her character...

I realised I knew so little about her. Anyhow, I went to her concert with the flowers.

The concert was held in the very same hall I was looking at. Many people were there, probably family and friends. There was a fixed seating arrangement, so I squeezed my way through with many an apology to get to my seat, right in the centre of the hall, beside a guy. He scrutinized me as I took my seat.

The concert was overall a success. My favourite part was, needless to say, Kae’s performance. I fell in love with the sound of the violin immediately. Kae’s violin told a story. I didn’t really know the piece she played, but it was simply beautiful. Melodious, melancholic, magnificent.

After the concert had ended, the participants met up with the guests outside the hall, receiving hugs, wishes, and flowers. I found Kae amidst the throng of people and handed her the flowers, complimenting her performance.

After that, we started seeing each other regularly.

Our relationship, however, existed in the grey realm. At times, we were like lovers. At times, we were like friends. There was a lot of uncertainty. But I knew I was in love with her.

Totally.
**
4 July 1998
Germany lost 3-0 to Croatia in Lyon, and thus was eliminated from the World Cup.

I haven’t written in a while, because I was spending most of my time working and with him. Sometimes, I don’t even come home, but stayed over at his house. I left things over there as well. Funny, because it is only just across the street.

It hasn’t been all sunshine. I know that is hard to accept, because at the start, everything was going so well, we were so happy, so blissful. But I guess they are right when they say that not every day is sunny; there are rainy days as well. That is when you know you are really in a relationship. A couple that doesn’t quarrel isn’t a couple.

But aren’t we quarrelling too much? I know it is my fault too, but I am always too proud to say.

Like today, we argued over something very silly. I am too embarrassed to put it down, lest I read this 10 years later and laugh at myself. I stomped off and boarded the first U-Bahn that came along. He rushed in, sat in the other half of the carriage, directly opposite me. The people started to stream in, blocking our views of each other. But he kept trying to attract my attention, making silly faces and all.

I just had had to laugh.

Looking back, I was being too silly.

Kazu, I am sorry for all these. I am sorry that you always have to cheer me up, you always say sorry even when I am the one at fault. I am sorry for being so immature.

I am sorry that I don’t even have the guts to say this to you straight.
**
25 July 1998
Celebrated my birthday yesterday. I didn’t want to go home, because I didn’t want to leave him. So I stayed over at his place.
**
I found a job at a Japanese restaurant. German lessons in the morning, work from afternoon to night. Things weren’t easy, but at least I was beginning to get the hang of things.
**
24 December 1999
Prague is really beautiful. It is the perfect setting to celebrate his birthday. We had a very nice dinner, and then took a long stroll around the town. Everything is so pretty.

I wish we could be like this forever.

I pray to God.
**
14 March 1999
One year anniversary.

I think I am the luckiest girl in this world.

Sometimes I wonder, what have I done, how could a person like me, deserve someone like him?
**
Kae and I had lunch together at her school. After that, we took a walk and passed by a violin shop. Kae stopped at the display window and peered in. Then she pushed open the door and entered.

“Hallo!” she greeted the elderly man behind the counter.

He pushed his glasses up the rim of his nose and smiled as he recognised her, “Hallo, Kae. Don’t worry, it hasn’t been sold yet.”

“Good, good. But I am not really worried, because you promised to sell it only to me, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes. I will keep my word.”

“Great. Can I take a look at it?”

“Sure. You know where it is.”

I followed Kae to a row of violins. She pointed it out. “Pretty, isn’t it? Stradivarius. But it costs 100,000 Euros. I think I will never be able to afford it in this lifetime.”

She paused, “Even though he says he will only sell it to me, I doubt he would, even if I had the money. It is his treasure.”

I checked my bank account, which included the lifetime savings I had brought over from Tokyo.

Barely 5000 Euros.
**
24 July 1999
Happy Birthday to me! Celebrated it with Kazu, of course. We had sukiyaki at his place, and then he sang me a birthday song in Japanese, German and English.

Then, I asked him to sing me a Japanese song. His favourite song.

He told me it’s Takashi Sorimachi’s Forever.

The lyrics- I won’t really understand. But it was really very nice.

I don’t know what kind of feeling I would be having the next time I hear this song.
**
15 October 1999
I don’t know what’s wrong with you. But you have grown quiet all of a sudden. These few days. I know you usually don’t speak much anyway, but this is really unlike you.

Why don’t you tell me what is wrong?
**
17 October 1999
I can’t talk to someone who doesn’t want to talk.
**
I hadn’t heard from Kae in a while, so I decided to look her up, in case she was ill.

Even though we had gotten close, she never once allowed me to see her home, or even invited me to her place. Nevertheless, she did told me her address, but told me not to come, because she wouldn’t be around most of the time.

Map in hand, with her street circled, I set off to find her house. I found her street without much difficulty. Her house number was 8. I turned my head to look at the number on the house behind me. 3. Number 8 was on the opposite side.

Then, a door opened, and a guy stepped out. A head appeared at the doorway.

Kae.

They kissed, and he walked towards me. I ducked behind a tree but looked again. It was Kae, no doubt about it. She disappeared and the door closed.

I crushed the map in my hand, and threw it into a rubbish bun on my way.

I guess there was no longer any reason for us to meet anymore.
Some time after that, I received a SMS from Kae, telling me that she wanted to cool things off a little. She wanted us to give ourselves a break, to spend some time away from each other.

A breakup?

How could it be, when nothing’s ever happened, no words were ever said?
**
20 October 1999
He told me he was going back to Japan in November, or maybe December.
His work was finishing, and he needed to go back to Japan.

‘Can’t you stay?’ I asked him.

He said that he really needed to go back, and that there was no reason for him to stay on.

Am I not a good enough reason for you to stay then?

memories 4

I felt guilty towards Fabian. After all, he really loved me a lot, a lot. Too much, I always said. Not enough, he would reply. Then a whisper: never enough.

Some people say, that to love is more tiring than to be loved. It’s a blessing to be loved.

It can be very painful: the pain that stems from the guilt of not being able to reciprocate.

We got married in 2003. He was Verena’s friend from university. After I returned to Germany, Verena introduced him to me at a party. We saw each other for about six months. Then he proposed, and I accepted. It wasn’t a decision that was made in the heat of passion. At least not on my part. He was a nice person, a very good boyfriend, a very good husband.

I had said ‘Yes’, not because I love him, but because I thought it could help me forget him.

It was impulse, but not that kind of impulse everyone else at that time had in mind.

As everyone else commented on how picture-perfect we were, I saw in Verena’s troubled eyes her doubt.

Only she would know.
**
I was jogging around my neighbourhood when a bicycle suddenly whizzed by me. It was her. There was a smile on her face, that kind of nonchalant smile. I started running after her bike. I was really sprinting, but the distance between us seemed to grow. She turned around the bend.
I slowed down a little as I neared the turn before increasing my pace again. She was just in front. But I was already exhausted, and my strides became smaller. However, she seemed to be slowing down.

She came to a stop and I caught up with her, panting.

She smiled. “Why are you here?”

I finally caught my breath, “I don’t know. Because of you?”

She laughed, and then stuck out a hand, “I am Kae, and you are?”

I took it, “I am Woo Suk.”

“Woo Suk. So I guess you live around here?”

“Yeah, on Hauffstrasse. What about you?”

“That’s a secret,” she said, winking. “Anyway, I have to go. Bye!”

Yet again, she left just like that, so abruptly.
**
5 February 1998
I finally got the chance to try out my Japanese! Ran into him at the supermarket again. At almost the exact same spot the last time round. I said ‘Kombanwa.’ He broke into a smile and returned the greeting. Then he said something which I couldn’t catch. I could only smile and shake my head. He explained that he was asking if I had had dinner. I said not yet, but I was going home to cook. He asked what I normally cook. I told him pasta, lasagne, pizzas and salads. He cooks Japanese food on weekends. I told him I have never tried that before. And he said I could come over to try.

We exchanged numbers. He is called Kazuki.
**
Her name is Kae.

Ka-e.
**
9 February 1998
I went shopping for chocolates today, because I read that in Japan, girls would give chocolates to the guys on Valentine’s Day. The guy would return the favour on 14 March, White Day.

I got something nice, but what am I to say, when I give it to him? I think girls also give chocolates to colleagues on that day as well, or to friends. Maybe I will just tell him that I am giving him to remind him of home.

When should I give it to him?
**
While waiting for my laundry, I decided to take a walk around the washing salon, to see what was there. I have been here for around 5 weeks. This was the third time I was doing my laundry, but the first two times, I just waited for forty minutes in the salon. So this time round, I decided to do something different.

I found a café and entered it, maybe have a cake and coffee. I looked at the selection of cakes and decided on the Nougat one. As I was about to order, the waiter gave me an apologetic smile; a customer was paying.

He called out, “Kae!”

My jaws almost dropped. Did I hear right?

Then Kae appeared from the back. Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed playfully as she recovered from the initial surprise.

“What would you like?” she asked.

“This, and a latte macchiato.”

“Ok,” she nodded. Then in a softer, almost whispery tone, she asked, “Are you following me?”

“No,” I whispered back.

“Take a seat,” she nodded towards an empty table at the corner.

I complied.

“You work here?” I asked when she came around with my order.

“Yeah. I got to support myself.”

“And those kids at the Media Park?”

“That’s more for interest. But I do get paid for that as well. Enjoy.”

From my seat, I observed her as she worked, serving the cakes, making the drinks, all done meticulously.

It was time for me to leave.

“Tasted good?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. 5,80.”

“Here. Exact.”

“Thank you. See you.”

“See you.” I turned back to her. “Hey, are you free next Tuesday?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I might be. Why?”

“There’s a movie I want to catch. But there isn’t anyone here whom I can call…”

“Are you trying to date me?” her eyes twinkled.

“Oh well…yeah.”

“Your treat?”

“Sure.”

“Give me your handphone. Do you have one?”

“Yeah, here,” I passed it to her, a little doubtful as to what she wanted to do.

She fiddled a little with it before handing back to me, “Just message me the details. See you!”

I looked at the number on the screen. “Ok. See you then!”
**
14 February 1998
Saturday. Valentine’s Day. I looked out of the window the whole day, but saw no sign of him. It is unlikely that he should have a date, right?

It’s far too late now. I think I will just go and ring his bell tomorrow morning.
**
15 February 1998
I went down at 10, I thought this would be a reasonable time, not too late, not too early. He should be up. Number 10. ‘Yoshinaga.’ That must be his surname. I pressed on it.

“Yes?” it was his voice, no question at all.

It took a second ‘yes’ from him before I found my voice. I identified myself and told him I have something for him. He said “Oh.” I was expecting him to tell me to come in, and expecting to hear the buzzing sound that accompanies the unlocking of the door. Instead, I heard footsteps down the stairs. Suddenly, the door opened, and he stood there, his hair a little messy.

“This is for you,” I said, thrusting the package into his arms. He was still looking very surprised when I said, “Enjoy your Sunday, bye bye.”

And I ran right across the street, all the way up to my room.

I forgot to say all that I had thought of saying.

How silly of me.
**
13 February 2006, the date on my handphone read. Monday.

I typed the message, read it, corrected it, read it again, then corrected it again. After the fifth round of correction, I was finally satisfied.

I scrolled through my address book till I reached K. Kae. I hesitated.

Then, sucking in a deep breath, I pressed ‘Send.’

I waited for her reply. An hour passed. I thought maybe her phone wasn’t by her side. Yet another hour passed. Maybe her battery was flat. Then another. Maybe she had something planned, and wouldn’t be able to make it. I finally decided to go to sleep; it was already past midnight.

What if she had tricked me, and given me a random number?

memories 3

27 January 1998
I did a crazy thing today. I actually opened my window when it was like 2 degrees outside. I opened my window wide, and the wind blew my hair into my face, into my eyes. But the feeling was actually very wonderful. In spite of the cold, I found myself smiling. As I tried to get my hair out of my eyes, I noticed his window opening. He looked out and up, at the sky, a smile slowly forming. When he looked down again, our eyes met.

That, is called ‘A Moment of Magic.’

His eyes lit up in surprise and our smiles became grins. He nodded to me in acknowledgement.

I really wanted to shout something, something in his language. Anything.

But I realised I knew nothing about it. Not even a simple ‘How are you?’

He waved, and before I could even react, his window was shut again.

Even now, I still feel very empty.

“Moment of Magic…where is the magic when you need it most?”
**
I went for a run again. Usually, I would only run up till the Innere Kanalstrasse, with the Television Tower as the marker. But on this day, I felt especially restless, as though something was drawing me, pulling me to it. I found myself running towards the Mediapark, the modern media hub of Cologne.

Running across the bridge, I knew why.

I saw her by the lake with a group of children. Perhaps you would ask, how could I be sure?
How would I forget her face? I had been searching everywhere for her. And now, there she was, on the bank of the lake.

I stopped and started to walk instead. Walk towards her.

She was drawing. One of the kids, a boy ran to her with his sketchbook. She broke into a smile and nodded in approval, patting him on the head. The rest of the kids surrounded her with their works. I stood there, by the foot of the bridge, 20 meters away from her, and watched her. She’s very good with kids.

She clapped and stood up, saying something. The kids jumped up and chattered among themselves as they started packing up. I walked up to them.

That was when she noticed my presence. She tilted her head slightly as I approached.

I thought I was going to just stand there and not say a single thing. I almost couldn’t say a thing, not that I had really given much thought to it. Looking back, I was so focused on finding her that I had forgotten about what should happen next, what should I say, et cetera. Maybe I thought that everything would fall in place once I find her.

In the end, I asked in Japanese, “Are you Japanese?”

She narrowed her eyes and looked away, lips pursed, as though in thought. Then she replied me in German, “I don’t know. I am German, but my parents come from Japan.”

“I see.”

What else was I supposed to say?

The kids were watching, and they started chanting, “You’ve got a boyfriend…”

She turned to them, pretending to be stern as she told them to quieten down. They laughed and one of the boys said something which I didn’t really understand. Neither could I understand her reply. Then she made a gesture for them to leave. “Go!”

They finally dispersed, leaving us alone.

“Sorry… Kids,” she smiled apologetically.

I shrugged, “It’s ok.”

“Are you Japanese?”

“I am Korean, but I have lived in Tokyo for almost my entire life.”

She started packing her stuff. I helped her with her drawing materials. She muttered her thanks.

“Isn’t it cold?” she asked suddenly

“It’s ok.”

She smiled, “You like to say that, don’t you?”

I was dumbfounded. I never ever gave much thought to that. It just came naturally, the answer.
“Anyway, what are you doing in Cologne?”

“I am learning German, and after that, I don’t know.”

“Oh…”

“What about you, are you a student?”

“Yeah, I am studying at the Hochschule für Musik Köln. Violin."

Only when she pretended to play the violin did I understand her last word.

She looked at her watch. “I have to go. Good luck in Cologne.”

I had a lot to say, but I didn’t know how to express myself, not even in Japanese. So, she left. I didn’t know her name, didn’t know anything else, other than the fact that her parents were Japanese, she played the violin, where she studied.

**
28 January 1998
I went down to the big bookstore at Neumarkt, hoping to find something on Japan and the language. As I browsed the language section, it then dawned on me that I had only assumed that he’s Japanese. I found a beginner’s learning package, and a phrasebook. I decided to trust my instinct.

On my way back, I bumped into him. He nodded and brushed past me. Maybe he was in a hurry. Maybe, maybe.

Why am I thinking of reasons for his indifference?
**
It was drizzling. As I waited at the traffic light, I noticed a familiar figure across the road, hurrying in the direction of my house. Impossible, I thought. I checked to make sure there was no traffic before dashing across the road.

It was her. She walked quickly, checking her watch. She entered the narrow street my house was on, but on the opposite side. She stopped at one of the doors, somewhere in the middle of the street and pressed a button. Then she entered the building.

She didn’t live here. If she had, I would have seen her somehow, I was sure.

I went to the house she entered. Number 10. Directly opposite mine, I realised. My house was number 11. I stepped back and looked up. As though I could see her through the wall.

I stepped further back, behind a tree.

The door swung open, and she rushed out. I pressed myself against the tree. She stopped for a while, and then turned towards me. Then she ran past me, in the direction we had both come from.

Were those tears on her face, or raindrops?
**
2 February 1998
Japanese is really, really, really very difficult.

memories 2

"So, good afternoon, Jang. Settling in well?” my landlord greeted me with a smile as I met him at the stairway.

“Good afternoon. Yeah, quite well.”

“What is your given name again? It would be better for me to call you by that.”

“Woo- Suk.”

“Voo- Zuk?”

“Close enough,” I smiled.

“I hope I get it right the next time,” he smiled. “See you.”

“See you,” I turned to open my door. “Oh, by the way…”

“Yes?”

“Who used to live in this room?”

“You mean before you? Well, there was an Italian, a French, an Australian as well as a Russian. Before that, my daughter used to live there. When she was around your age. That was around 8 years ago.”

“I see…the books…”

“Most of the books belong to her. But it’s ok if you want to read them. I mean, she didn’t take them with her when she moved, so I suppose she doesn’t want them anymore.”

“All right. Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

I went into my room and picked up the diary again.
**
“Verena, here!” I called out.

Verena looked over and smiled in recognition, before hurrying over. “Sorry I am late.”

“It’s ok.”

“What would you like, Miss?”

“Err…give me a Snowball. Thank you,” Verena ordered, after giving the menu a quick scan. She caught me giving her a strange look. “What is it?”

“Must you order that?”

“Can’t I?”

I nodded and raised an eyebrow, “Sure, sure.”

Both of us laughed.

“So, Sophie, what does it feel like to be Sophie Kehl again?”

I smiled and shook my head, “No special feeling, I guess.”

“You took a gamble and lost.”

I focused on stirring my Mint Julep.

“How I am supposed to face Fabian?”

“Don’t see him then. Cologne isn’t that small.”

“It’s because of you, Sophie.”

“I am sorry. I didn’t wish for it to end up like this too.”

“5 years, Sophie…”

“Look, Verena, I tried. It just doesn’t work.”

She shook her head, “It’s not really your fault. It’s Fabian’s fault. He was too blinded by love. He loved you too much.”

I took a sip from my drink.

Verena laughed, “It’s God’s fault. It’s his little joke.”
**
12 January 1998

I think a new guy just moved into Mr Weissbach’s house. An Asian. Chinese, Korean or Japanese, I won’t know. Why do I even need to know? I might not even see him at all. Maybe he’s some weirdo who coops himself up in his room every day. Maybe we go in different directions every morning. This might be the first and last time I see him. Before I know it, he might already be on his plane back home.

How long will he stay? 3 months? That’s the average, I guess. Who will be coming in 3 months later? An African?

We should play a guessing game.

I smiled as I read this entry. His daughter really wrote randomly.
**
“You know, Sophie, I have always regretted that day.”

“Which day?”

“That day at your house, when I told you to look.”

“Look at what?”

“Who are you trying to kid? Anyhow, I really regret it. Oh well. Take care, Sophie. Bye.”

That day.

Maybe I should start from the beginning: how we met. Even if you were to ask me this question 10, 20 years later, I would still be able to tell you clearly.

That day, Verena was at my room. She had come over for a visit. I was preparing lunch when she called out to me from the window.

“Look!”

I stole a glance out of the window. “What about it?”

“He’s gotta be crazy, opening his window on a cold day like this.”

“Maybe Asians are different.”

“Do you think he is Chinese, Korean or Japanese?”

“Aren’t they all the same?”

“They aren’t.”

“Ok. Lunch is ready,” I went over to her. She was still by the window, staring at the window directly opposite.

The window was opened, and he was staring at the street below. Then he looked up and noticed the two of us staring at him. We both turned away instinctively. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that he had looked away again.

“Ok, let’s eat,” I pulled her away from the window.

I knew nothing about him at that time. I never really gave much thought to it.

I never really expected to see him again. I never really expected him to stay.
**
15 January 1998

Oh my god. I actually saw the Asian today. Let me start from the beginning.
I was helping out at the shop when he came in. I heard the bells and emerged from the back, with a smile, expecting one of the usual customers. When I realised it was him, I was so shocked.

He asked for Houjicha. In German. I recovered my composure and told him to wait as I searched for it. Finally found it and showed him. He was happy with it. There was no sign of him recognising me.

Looking back, I realise that maybe he didn’t really see us clearly. Or maybe to Asians, we Europeans all look the same too.

He is probably Japanese.

“Houjicha? Good taste. But you don’t have to be Japanese to buy Japanese tea, right?”

I read her diary every day, with the help of the dictionary of course. Perhaps I shouldn’t be. But it was hard to put down.

Reading this entry, I suddenly felt like running. I changed into running attire and stepped out of my house.

“Where are you going?” my landlord was just coming back.

“I am going for a run.”

“It’s cold outside.”

I smiled and shrugged.

I needed to run. I needed to find her again. 1 million people- I didn’t believe that I couldn’t find her again, out of this 1 million people.
**
I didn’t manage to find her.

22 January 1998

I met him at the supermarket. We bumped into each other with our trolleys at the corner with the dairy products. He asked if I was the girl from the tea shop. I said yes, and asked how the tea was. He said it was just like back home. He then told me that he went back to the store just yesterday to get another kind of tea, but I wasn’t there. I told him it was my parents’ shop, and when I wasn’t working, I would pop by to help out. But there usually isn’t much business. He asked me what sort of tea Germans drink. I don’t really know, because I am not a tea lover. My parents love tea, but not me. That’s why I avoid going to the shop as much as possible. But sometimes they have to run errands and they get me to stay in it. On my off days of course.

He nodded in understanding and said he had to get on with shopping.

Talking to him, I forgot that he is a foreigner.
**
24 January 1998

I saw him by chance. In his room, from my window. It actually slipped my mind that he is living directly across the street until I chanced upon him, sitting by the window, reading. I stood by the side, so that it was less obvious. As I observed him, I wondered: what is his name? Does he really come from Japan? Why is he here?

Questions, questions, questions.

I felt so much like opening my window and shouting across to him.

Oh my god, what did I just write?

“Have you fallen in love with him?” I asked under my breath.

How do people fall in love, anyway?
**
26 January 1998
I was busy with work the past 2 days. Never really bumped into him, nor seen him in his room.

Was he at home, or was he out, exploring the town?

I slotted a postcard I had picked up at this page and closed the diary.

Where could she be?

memories 1

For Johanna Niko ,

Someday, when you are old enough to understand, you will know and appreciate the meaning of your name, and why you are different. Because you are. For you to come into this world…it must be fate.

It must be God’s will.
**
February 14, 2008. A friend of mine asked me to accompany him to a pub with live performances. I reluctantly agreed, because I wasn’t keen to hang out till late. Most of the performances were actually so-so. Until this particular group came: a girl and three guys.

As one of the guys began to play the keyboard, I straightened up immediately. The song was all too familiar. Even if I hadn’t heard it in a while. How could I possibly forget it? As the girl began to sing, I saw 2006 flash by in front of me- the best part of my life. Maybe you would think it’s kind of sad, that I can specifically pinpoint the best part of my life. But that is the truth. That period, however short, was really the best part of my life.

Even if it didn’t last.

Even if it was all a lie.

Silbermond’s Das Beste.
**
After that, I decided to write.

This is the story of my friend. In her story, I see bits of mine as well. Our story.

Where should I begin? How do you choose the point to start, when you don’t know where it begins, and where it ends? Is there ever a beginning or an end, or are our stories like the threads of a never-ending carpet, interwoven with one another; part of a collective whole?
**
“So, this is your room.”

He proceeded to show me around, explaining in a mixture of English and German, the various appliances and features. “The fridge is here, this is for boiling water for coffee or tea…”

I only understood fifty percent of what he had said. But it probably didn’t matter, because much of it was common sense, basic knowledge anyway. Not much different from Japan, or Korea for that matter. Anyhow, the underlying principle is always the same. A Math teacher once said that all problems may look difficult, but when you strip them down to their most basic form, they essentially revolve around very simple concepts.

My landlord finally left me alone in the room. Correction: my room. My new home.

What’s a Korean doing here in Germany? Well, there is quite a sizeable number of Koreans here, particularly in Cologne. That’s not really a reason, right? But that’s because I don’t really have a good reason why I am here, why I threw everything down, boarded that long flight to come to this foreign land.

Maybe it runs in the blood.

My name is Jang Woo Suk, born 14 May 1984. I am a Korean by birth. I say that, because when I was five, my whole family moved across the East Sea, from Pusan to Tokyo. I went to Japanese schools, speak Japanese, have Japanese friends and support the Yomiuri Giants and FC Tokyo. So I am basically Japanese, just that my name is Korean.

I studied history at a university in Tokyo. For two years, it was ok. But I realized that enough was enough; I needed something new. That was when I decided to pack my stuff. I needed to break out of my life. I chanced upon a map of the world in the campus, and closing my eyes, pointed randomly. Germany.

I didn’t know what I would be doing there. But I have never been out of Asia, so I thought it would be a good chance to do some travelling as well. I found myself a language school- after all, whether I intend to study or work, I would be living there for a while, and for that, I would definitely need the language.

And so, on the first day of 2006, I left my family in Tokyo and left for Cologne with no knowledge of the language, no knowledge of what I was doing with my life- just a German-Japanese dictionary I had picked up at a bookstore.
**
The waitress at the entrance greeted me with a smile as she looked expectantly at me.

Suddenly, I was at a loss for words. What was I to say? Fortunately, he spotted me and waved.

The waitress noticed him and smiled, gesturing for me to enter.

He got up and pulled the chair for me, helping me with my coat, as he always did. After I was comfortably seated, he returned to his seat. We sat quietly, poring through the menu.

“Decided?”

I nodded and pointed to my choice. He glanced at it and signaled to the waiter. After our orders were taken, we were left in our own world again- our world of awkward silence.

“Busy with work?” he asked casually.

I shrugged. “Not really.”

He nodded. Fortunately, our dinner came shortly after that, sparing both of us the trouble.

“Oh, everything is in order. There shouldn’t be any problem with the process,” he suddenly mentioned.

We were getting divorced, after a three-year marriage, the last year of which we lived separately, as stipulated by law. Perhaps that was why we didn’t really have much to say to each other. What was there to say, other than the usual formalities? Don’t get me wrong; we were parting on amicable terms. But I guess it’s really kind of awkward for both parties of a relationship that is on the verge of breakdown, or has already broken down. It would have been funny if we could sit and chat as though nothing had happened.

Why did we even bother to meet then?

I didn’t really have the answer to that. Perhaps, out of habit? We always have dinner outside on Wednesday nights: at a nice restaurant which we would take turn to pick out.

“Habit” is a big word.

We were done with dinner. He helped me with my coat and we stepped out into the cold night. There was no cab in sight.

“I am sorry,” I said.

“For what?” he smiled, asking.

“For this, for everything.”

“You tried your best, didn’t you? If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out.”

A cab appeared and he flagged it down. The cab came to a halt and he opened the door for me. I
got in, thanking him. He leaned towards the window, “Sophie, take care of yourself. Ask me out for a drink sometimes. Bye.”

He stepped back onto the pavement as the driver stepped on the accelerator. Instinctively, I turned back, but he was already out of sight.

Out of my life.
**
I needed to register myself at the town hall of my district. My landlord gave me a map and tried to give me directions. I figured I was better off finding it myself. He had wanted to bring me there, but I had rejected him; I needed the space and time to explore the surroundings by myself.

So, on Thursday morning, before the sun had risen, I was already out of the house. I didn’t really have any difficulty finding my way. Some people say Tokyo is one of the messiest cities in the world; even if you were to have a map, you might not be able to find the place you are looking for, because there are so many side lanes, and the buildings aren’t really in running order. Compared to that, this was nothing. I settled what I needed to settle within forty minutes or so, and was out of the town hall. By this time, the sun was starting to awake from its slumber.

I stood at the traffic light, along with a few other people. As we waited for the green light, a bike glided to a stop beside me. I turned to look at the newcomer to the waiting party; it was a natural reaction.

It was an Asian girl. Under her winter cap, under her scarf, I could spot her Asian features; no question about it. Japanese. I was 80% sure. She was the first Asian I saw on the streets; there were many at the Hauptbahnhof area, on the day of my arrival.

“Excuse me, are you Japanese?” I asked in Japanese.

She turned and gave me a quizzical look. Then I noticed her earphones. The green man came on. She smiled and rode off. Too fast for me to catch up with her.
**
The whole process lasted only 10 minutes.

Fabian and I left the court, officially no longer man and wife.

After one year of waiting. After three years of pain. Fabian could have prolonged the process, but he understood that when it’s over, it’s over.

That was why he let me go.

**
There was a bookshelf in my room, lined with books, books whose titles I didn’t quite understand. Mostly German, perhaps. There were also a few travel guides- even one of Japan. I flipped through it quickly, all the information was a little outdated. I checked the publication date- 2000. 5, I mean 6 years is a long time. Tokyo has since changed a lot. Even so, looking at pictures of my hometown, it seemed as though a long time had passed since I left Tokyo.

Amidst all these books, there was also a leather-bound one tucked away in a corner. I pried it loose from the rest and pulled it out. I examined it carefully: the pages were a little yellowed, but it was pretty much still in good shape.

I opened it to the first page. “1998.”

The next page was filled with words, written in an elegant, cursive handwriting. I reached for my dictionary.

“First day of the new year; Happy New Year to myself. A lot of- celebrations- going on- yesterday, so it’s nice to have some- peace- for a change. What are my- thoughts- on the New Year? I haven’t really thought about it. But I –hope- it will be a good one for everyone. I could –certainly- do with some –luck-…and some –happiness-.”

“I could do with some too.”
**
I stared at the small nametag with my name on it. With a rueful smile, I put it back on the dressing table. Sophie Richter-Kehl was no more. I pinned on the new one which I had brought along. Sophie Kehl.

I didn’t really want to throw the old one away. I just wasn’t the kind to throw things away; I would keep just about everything and anything. Is it for keepsake, or is it because I just don’t have the heart to discard old things that have become meaningless? Does that make me a coward?Perhaps that is the root cause of everything. I pulled open a drawer and tossed the nametag into it, into a dark corner.

once

once in a while, a movie comes along and takes your breath away.

on monday, while walking along the street to friesenplatz u-bahn with teddy and yidan, this particular poster on display at the cinema caught my eye.
i was 70% sure i wanted to watch it.

i went home and googled it. and i knew for sure i was going to watch it.

Guy plays his guitar on the streets of Dublin. Girl hears his music and talks to him.

So ensues a relationship that is maybe friendship, maybe love, maybe something that cannot be expressed in words. maybe words would destroy the meaning of it.

He has an ex in London; she has a husband back in Czech.

They make a recording of their songs, a collaboration.

The day before he goes to London, she doesnt show up as promised. before he leaves for london, he tries to find her, to say goodbye, but to no avail. meanwhile, he arranges for a piano to be sent to her house.

and he goes to London, while she receives the piano and her husband.

it affected me alot. the length is just nice. everything that was there was necessary. only the necessary was present. that helps to keep the film concise and just right, in terms of length.

i think this was great insight from the director:

Though I was initially thinking of using a good actor who could half sing, I quickly realized I should do it the other way around and get a good singer who could half act

i can't believe marketa irglova was only 17 when this film was shot(2006). i thought she has a lot of screen presence, and you couldnt have known she was 17.

i like the songs inside, especially "falling slowly" and "lies"

it is a very simple story, but realistic. i know most people would want a happy ending, a kiss or whatever at the end. but i am glad they didnt try to be too clever. this ending topped it off wonderfully. like amaretto biscuits with your coffee.

almost perfect.

this is the wiki for it
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Once_(film)

falling slowly
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoSL_qayMCc

lies
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4ZsiocaB1k

1. passport doesnt matter.

2. the place to see the best of the best is where the best of the best gather. the international stage.

3. don't settle for anything less.

arsenal 2 blackburn 0

when i learnt that man city had beaten man u 2-1, and then watched liverpool hold chelsea to a draw, i knew that not beating blackburn would be tantamount to suicide.

it is absolutely the best chance to really tighten our grip on the initiative which was presented back to us by spurs last week.

and the only positive thing was that we took it.

i only watched from the 20th minute on. we dominated right up till the 30th minute or so. and based on the commentary, apparently dominating from the start as well. then blackburn got back into the game and caused us trouble. why? cos we din get that 2nd goal to kill them. isnt this what i am always talking about? you dominate, you outpass, you create many chances. great. but you only have one goal, or worse, no goal. the game is still open. one mistake in defence, 1-1. the kind of possession we have, the kind of chances we have should have been translated into 2,3 or 4 goals. and i am not talking about the blackburn game. almost every game, it's this problem. i noe we are the only team that has scored in every epl game, and that's no easy feat, but our goal difference could have been that much bigger.

hleb was our best player. but as a whole, we din play well. at least lehmann kept a clean sheet.

i may not like lehmann, but if he can help us win the title, then why not? he can play, as long as he doesnt screw us up.

silbermond's das beste

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5VzwPYpE3Q

ich weiss gar nicht so wirklich, wie man das in worten fassen soll...(...)
ich glaube manchmal vergisst man was man fuer schoene momente hat
und man weisst es nicht zu schätzen
erst wenn sie weg sind
merkt man, wie sehr sie einem fehlen
ich denke das sollte nicht so oft im leben vorkommen

[ich dun really noe how one should say this in words
i think sometimes one forget what beautiful moments he has
and one doesnt know how to treasure it.
until they are gone,
one notices how much he misses it.
i think this shouldnt happen so often in life.]

i din expect myself to keep replaying this video for the sake of hearing Stefanie's words before the song. but some of the things she said really strikes a chord with me. and i think with many people as well.

here's the lyrics for the song.

Ich habe einen Schatz gefunden
und er trägt deinen Namen
So wunderschön und wertvoll
und mit keinem Geld der Welt zu bezahlen
Du schläfst neben mir ein
Ich könnt dich die ganze Nacht betrachten
Sehn wie du schläfst, hören wie du atmest
bis wir am morgen erwachen

[i found a treasure, and he has your name. so wonderful and valuable, and without a need to pay the world with money. you fall asleep beside me. i could look at you for the whole night., see how you sleep, how you berathe, till we wake up in the morning]

Du Hast es wieder mal geschafft
mir den Atem zu rauben
Wenn du neben mir liegst
dann kann ich es kaum glauben
dass jemand wie ich
sowas schönes wie dich verdient hat

[you robbed me so many times of my breath. when you lie beside me, i can hardly believe that someone like me has earned someone so great as you.]

Du bist das Beste was mir je passiert ist
Es tut so gut wie du mich liebst
Vergess den Rest der Welt
wenn du bei mir bist
Du bist das Beste was mir je passiert ist
Es tut so gut wie du mich liebst
Ich sag's dir viel zu selten
es ist schön, dass es dich gibt

[you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. it's so good, how you love me. forget the rest of the world when you are with me...i told you too seldom, how beautiful it is that there's you]

Dein Lachen macht süchtig
fast so als wäre es nicht von dieser Erde
Auch wenn deine Nähe Gift wär
ich würde bei dir sein, so lange bis ich sterbe
Dein Verlassen würde Welten zerstören
doch daran will ich nicht denken
Viel zu schön ist es mit dir
wenn wir uns gegenseitig Liebe schenken

[your laughter is addictive, almost not from this earth. even if it's poison around you, i would still be by your side, till i die. your departure will destroy worlds, but i dun want to think about that. much too beautiful it is with you, when we send our love to each other]

Betank mich mit Kraft
Nimm mir Zweifel von den Augen
Erzähl mir tausend Lügen
ich würde sie dir alle glauben
Doch ein Zweifel bleibt
dass ich jemand wie dich verdient hab

[recharge me with strength, take the doubt away from my eyes, tell me a thousand lies, i would believe all of them. but a doubt remains, that i have earned someone like you]

Du bist das Beste was mir je passiert ist
Es tut so gut wie du mich liebst
Vergess den Rest der Welt
wenn du bei mir bist
Du bist das Beste was mir je passiert ist
Es tut so gut wie du mich liebst
Ich sag's dir viel zu selten
es ist schön, dass es dich gibt

Wenn sich mein Leben überschlägt
bist du die Ruhe und die Zuflucht
weil alles was du mir gibst
einfach so unendlich gut tut
Wenn ich rastlos bin
bist du die Reise ohne Ende
Deshalb lege ich meine kleine große Welt
in deine schützenden Hände

[when my life is turned upside down, you are the peace and the refuge. because all that you give me simply do so much good indefinitely. when i am restless, you are the trip without an end. therefore i place my small big world in your protecting hands.]

Du bist das Beste was mir je passiert ist
Es tut so gut wie du mich liebst
Vergess den Rest der Welt
wenn du bei mir bist
Du bist das Beste was mir je passiert ist
Es tut so gut wie du mich liebst
Ich sag's dir viel zu selten
es ist schön, dass es dich gibt

Ich sag's dir viel zu selten
es ist schön, dass es dich gibt

another version. stefanie is super stylish in this one.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7ADKScFV3I

happy unchinese new year

i am officially not a chinese.

some time ago, i went to an asian supermarket with a friend. the cashier spoke to her in chinese, and when my turn came, she spoke to me in german.

just today, we went to a korean eatery. somehow, the lady speaks chinese. she spoke to my friends in chinese, and to me in german.


and just a few hours ago, the waitress and the chef at this sushi place guessed, as they always do with asian customers, that i was korean.


in Duesseldorf, all the shops i went, they spoke to me in jap.


the only conclusion i can come to is that at the korean place, she thought i was jap, and at the asian supermarket, she thought i was korean.

the irony of being discriminated by asians here. not that i am complaining. it is just amusing, isn't it?