...I was a free elf

I've been asked several times what I was doing in Japan when I was living there. 'Studying... theoretically...' was my common answer. I did go there to study and I had classes every day from nine to... four, I guess? I did learn Japanese... But technically I went there to study social sciences and international communication. Problem was, I wasn't fluent enough in Japanese so I could only attend classes held in English. Most of those, however, were meant for Japanese students trying to learn English so they were pretty simple and basic for me. I did have some interesting classes where we discussed social and political issues but a lot of the time I attended conversational classes where I was trying my hardest to communicate with shy Japanese students... and failing at it. I mean, I understand: I don't really speak Russian, which is why I don't try to hold a conversation in that language... but when the assignment is to exchange ideas and get a discussion going... it's a bit frustrating when you're faced with awkward silences and blushing.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about here. No, I had two other classes that were all in English and that were quite different. Media English A and B... How to describe those two classes...? Well, the setup was kind of the same as others: the class was mostly Japanese students with around 2-5 exchange students, it was being held in English and it was about Harry Potter. Yes, you read right. Harry Potter. Okay, Media English A focused on different English accents and regional dialects... using examples from Harry Potter. And Media English B was a cinematography class where we learned how to set up different scenes and how the mood and feel of a scene could be changed with different angles and color schemes... using examples from the Harry Potter movies. The professor was the same in both classes. Big surprise, right? He was a real Harry Potter fanboy, which is why all of his classes had the same sort of theme.

So, Media English B... Me and Mary took it in the Fall and we were the only two foreigners in the whole class. Granted, the class wasn't too big anyway: about maybe 20-23 people in total. To be honest, it was quite interesting, especially in the beginning. We learned how framing certain shots could change the way we perceive certain events and how to use lighting, angles, colors and background music to change the effect the scene has. We had to watch certain famous scenes from different movies (mostly the Harry Potter series) and analyze them. It was honestly quite exciting... until we found out our final assignment: we had to re-enact and film a scene from the Harry Potter series...

I hate performing in any way, shape or form. I can't stand to hear a recording of my voice or see myself on film. Just one of the many quirks I have. When we were separated into groups and told that some of us had to work on the screenplay and the others had to be actors, I wanted to be on the writing team. The professor wasn't having any of it. I was fluent in English, which meant I had to be an actor. Not only in my group's movie but also in a second movie because we were low on volunteer actors. Whaaat? Nobody wanted to act? What a surprise!

So, my group decided to re-enact Dobby's death scene from the last movie. The roles offered to me were the following: Dobby (of course), Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Bellatrix's head. Because, you know, we needed to briefly show the silhouette of the killer... I don't remember exactly how it happened but I got stuck being Dobby. Did I want to be Dobby? Hell no! But the role was kind of forced on me and I decided to play ball. 'It can't be that bad' I thought, 'I only have a few lines and then I die. Doesn't sound too difficult. Better than being Harry, I guess'. I was so incredibly naive...

I hope I don't offend anyone by saying this but... our movie was one of the worst pieces of rubbish in the history of cinematography. Okay, maybe it wasn't that horrible but it was pretty bad. I know for a fact that my acting was terrible but that's only half of it. We were filming in a park behind the school and the ground was littered with dried leaves. Half of the time you couldn't even hear what the characters were saying because of the rustling of leaves as the cameraman/director was moving around. The soundtrack was god awful! The guy in charge of it just put together a 15 second sound clip and played it on a loop... even when it didn't match the mood of the scene at all. And there was a 1-2 second pause every time it ended so it just sounded... wrong. I don't know what was going on with the color scheme but everything looked sepia brown... I mean, kudos to everybody on the team - I know everyone worked hard and did their best but... Any objective observer could tell that our little movie was just an abomination that should never have existed. 

It was hilariously bad. Really, beside the the rustling leaves, the looping music and the messed up color scheme there was also me wearing Mary's woolen hat and a rag around myself screaming 'I'm a free elf!' into the camera. One of the most cringe-worthy moments of my life... caught on film. Then there was my famous death scene where I'm trying to be all emotional while feebly rasping out my dying words: 'Must... protect... Harry... Potter...' Then I die... and the camera just keeps on rolling... for an absurdly long time... while Mary tries her best to look sad and act like she's sobbing. And the camera just doesn't stop rolling so there's a moment in the movie where I finally crack and start laughing a bit. Then there's the part where Mary (or Harry, rather) is burying Dobby's body, which is actually a backpack wrapped in a rag - somehow 'Dobby' collapsed in on himself after death and became little more than a pile of rags, apparently. Then there's the grave: a pile of leaves and the woolen hat on top of it. Then there's the funeral with Ron, Hermione (played by a dude in a wig), Luna and Harry saying their goodbyes (which you can barely hear due to the wind, rustling leaves and just our inability to do anything correctly). And in the end you see the hilariously misshapen 'gravestone' with the epitaph: 'Here lies Dobby: a free elf' written in sparkly pink letters. 

You might say we created a blasphemous abomination of a movie with this project... and you'd be right... but it was hilarious as hell. The kind of hilarious where you feel bad for everyone involved and you just feel bad for laughing but you can't help it. Like a cat waddling around on four wooden legs. So wrong but so, so funny. To be honest, the other groups didn't do much better. One group did (SPOILER ALERT in case you've been living under a rock for the past decade) Dumbledore's death scene and the other group re-enacted the Dark Forest scene from the first movie and they were both hilarious. When we finally saw the finished works in class I had a hard time trying not to choke of laughter. And the worst part: we weren't supposed to laugh. Those were not supposed to be parodies but real film projects! But with the broken English, erratic editing and just overall insanity of the scenes, it was impossible not to find it funny. Sometimes, when I'm in need of a good laugh I re-watch those movies and laugh until my stomach cramps up and there are tears streaming down my face. But I never watch the Dobby one. It is just too painful. I might have been a free elf for a brief moment but I felt like an enslaved actor the whole time. Out of all the embarrassing stuff I did in Japan, this is in the top ten. And I did it all while being sober. Proof that you don't need alcohol to make a fool of yourself. 

...my star was stolen

Never play 'Mario Party' with your friends! Ever! In fact, never play 'Mario Party', period. Whoever designed that game wanted to see the world burn. Don't give that person the satisfaction!

Anyway, it was the night before leaving Japan. I'd spent the last eleven months living and studying in Nagoya, I'd met some wonderful people and had some amazing adventures. And now it was coming to an end. My flight was going to leave the next morning, I'd already packed all of my stuff, cleaned out my room and almost all of the other exchange students had departed. There was only a handful of us left in the apartments and being there felt... all wrong. Almost like the place was haunted. I felt like I'd just been to several funerals in a row - seeing everybody leave like that, knowing that I might never see them again, knowing that one of the most amazing years of my life was over... It was all too much. I felt numb, emotionally drained and I could tell that the others were feeling it too. So, we had a choice: we could either curl up in a corner and be depressed about everything or we could have one last game night.

Now, back when everyone was still there we had this tradition of getting together every other week and playing some... social games... Not all of them involved drinking! Okay... maybe they did... yeah... alcohol was definitely a part of these nights... I mean, we even managed to turn 'Mario Kart' into a drinking game. But we tried to be civil and most of the time we didn't get too rowdy. Sure, there was a lot of screaming and yelling in Finnish (Finns are incredibly competitive, it seems) but those were our more... civil... parties. Since we were all feeling pretty down the remaining few of us decided to have one more game night, hoping that would lift our spirits.

The night before leaving me, Mary, Tytti, Devin, Claudia and Shodai got together in Devin's room to play some 'Mario Kart', have a few drinks and reminisce. Devin and Claudia were staying for another semester so they had to see all their friends leave while knowing that it would be at least another month before the new students showed up. They were as bad off as me, Mary and Tytti, who were all leaving the very next day. And Shodai, our designated Japanese person, was almost dead. He had a pretty bad cold and a fever but he decided to join us nonetheless. So in short: we weren't the happiest group of people... But we were hoping to change that. 

The night started off pretty well. We had some drinks, played some games, tried not to burst into tears and did a pretty good job. We were all pretty impressed with how Devin managed to organize his room: before leaving most of the old students dumped all their stuff into his room and it looked like a warehouse just a few hours before our little party started. He managed to make the place look good and we had to give him credit for that... until we entered his bathroom and discovered the eldritch horror that was his toilet bowl. I'm not going to get into details but... well... let's just say that it looked like cthulhu had been trying to crawl its way out of it and Devin had crushed his head with a dumbbell. 

To put aside the fact that Devin was angrily scrubbing the toilet bowl and Shodai was slowly drifting into a feverish coma with a can of beer resting on his forehead, I thought the night was going pretty well. That was until we started a game of 'Mario Party'. For those of you not familiar with it: it's basically a board-game in video game format. You roll a dice, move around and collect coins by playing minigames, and get stars... which you can buy using coins. The one with the most stars (and coins) in the end, wins. Now, I've never had the best of luck with board-games and I sucked at the minigames so when I finally managed to get a star, I was more than ecstatic... until someone had the option to steal a star from either me or another player... and they chose me, of course. 

I don't usually get angry but when I do... things go flying. It was my only star! My one and only! As soon as it was gone I let out an angry yell and threw the controller down. Yes, I threw it on the ground. I don't think I'd been that angry in my friends before so they were a bit taken aback... and amused... 

'Oh sure, you take MY star! It's always me! You know how much I suck at this game and still you had to take MINE! You know what, guys? Screw you! I'm outta here!' 

And with that I jumped up and stormed out. Yes. I know. Was I being childish? Yup, definitely. But they had taken my star! Oh, I knew I was being stupid. And to be honest, as soon as I'd stepped outside I realized how ridiculous I was being. But it was already too late. I had to commit, otherwise I would look even dumber. So I stomped off to my room, still seething. 

Thankfully, the certain someone who stole my star managed to catch up to me and actually apologized. After a bit of convincing and a promise not to steal any more stars I was willing to return and continue with the game. For some unknown reason the rest of the game went pretty well for me. Nobody stole any stars from me and people were generally trying to get out of my way. How odd! The fact that I was still sulking a bit made it even easier for me because the others were desperately trying to appease me. 

After a while I did start to feel like my old self again and I felt quite a bit ashamed of my temper tantrum. At some point we decided to go through some stuff the old students left behind... and we found more than we expected. Kitty ears and paws? Golden handcuffs? Who were these people? And why did they have a long furry... Oh... It was a cat tail... Riiiiight... A fake cat tail – part of a Halloween costume. A word of advice: never let a bunch of drunk people get a hold of a long black cat tail. It leads to some... questionable photographs... Yeah, we had a pretty interesting photoshoot, messing around with the props that were left by the old students. It was a great conclusion to a crazy night. For a moment we managed to forget everything that had happened and everything that was going to... We were just a group of friends having fun and messing around – enjoying the time we had left. It was an amazing conclusion to an amazing year, even with all the temper tantrums, angry toilet scrubbing and feverish ramblings of a half comatose Japanese person. Ah, to be young again!

...I was catching bats with my mom

Some time ago I started seeing a lot of PokemonGo posts on facebook. Now, growing up in Estonia I didn't have much contact with the whole franchise. The only reason I knew about its existence was a cartoon that aired on a German TV show. So when PokemonGo came out I didn't really give a damn... until there was a news article about a 17-year-old boy who walked out of a window while playing it. And that just pissed me off.

For decades 'concerned parents' have been whining about kids not getting enough exercise and just sitting in front of the computer the whole day, playing video games. Now that there is a game that actually gets people outside and encourages them to walk around, stay active and work out, there are dozens of horror stories about how people are walking into traffic and out of windows. God damn it! Can't you people ever be satisfied with anything? People do stupid things while driving – they drink, pass red lights, drive over the speed limit – but somehow nobody blames car manufacturers. Somehow we realize that when people do stupid things while driving it is not because the car is somehow 'bad' or at fault. But when it's a game? Oh man! But I'm not going to start a long rant here. Long story short: that article sparked an interest in me and the next morning I was one of many PokemonGo players walking around with my phone in my hand, looking for funny little creatures that no one but me could see. Not crazy at all. I can already imagine some of the readers going: 'You play Pokemon? Neeeeeeeerd!' but I find myself not caring even a little bit. You do you, guys, and I'm gonna do me. I'm passed the point of being embarrassed about my weird hobbies. I also collect dolls (or figurines) from different countries. And I'm not even ashamed of it.

In other news, the same day I got PokemonGo, me and my mom were supposed to go see a play. I headed to her place early in the morning, caught some wild pokemon on the way, and after a nice refreshing swim we headed to Türi, where the play was taking place. It was quite a long drive so we started driving pretty early, just in case. I'd never been there before and my mom didn't know the road too well either so it was better to leave early.

We ended up getting there about an hour early so we had time to walk around. There was a park close to the old railway station/theater and we wanted to have a little look around. As we were walking through the park a wild zubat appeared! What's a 'zubat', you ask? Do your research, you square! I mean... nevermind. It's a pokemon... that looks like a bat... and basically is a bat... without eyes... Not as creepy as it sounds, I promise. Anyhoo, a wild zubat appeared and since I didn't have one yet I felt the need to catch it. It took me a few tries, me being rather new to the whole thing. My mom, who'd been walking beside me the whole time, noticed me frantically messing around on my phone and went:

'What are you doing?'

'Ummm...' for a moment I tried to come up with a convincing lie but didn't find one, 'I'm just... playing... pokemon...'

'What now?'

'Ummm... PokemonGo? This new app where you can catch pokemon in 'the real world'?'

'What? Show me!'

Another zubat had just appeared so I had a chance to explain to my mom how the whole thing worked and show her the game in action. She looked over my shoulder for a few moments before going:

'I want to do that do! Where can I get this game?'

Now, my mom has some interesting hobbies but I never thought she would be into pokemon. Before I knew it she'd installed the app and was customizing her avatar. By that time the play was already starting so we needed to head inside. She was still messing around with the app when the lights went out. Usually when we see a play together we discuss the performance, the story and the actors during the fifteen minute break between acts. This time all my mom wanted to do was to get out and get to the closest Pokestop. And then she found a wild zubat...

For the better part of the intermission we were going from pokestop to pokestop, gathering balls and hoping to find some wild pokemon. Not a word was uttered about the play. We were almost late for act 2 and even though the play was amazing and emotional, as soon as it was over we went for another lap around town, to find some more zubats.  I know how ridiculous it sounds. I felt ridiculous. But hey, we were having fun and we were exploring a new city, finding cool little landmarks that we would've missed otherwise. Even managed to snap a picture of a cool church close to the park. I never imagined I would do something like this with my mom but then again, I never thought I would be playing pokemon. Never had much interest in it, to be honest. But here we were: two grown women, standing in the middle of a park in Türi, trying to catch imaginary bats. It was definitely weird. 

You know what's even weirder? My mom calling me on Monday and going: 'I'm level five now. How far are you?' Uhh... nice to hear from you too, mom. Apparently she's bonding with eight-year-olds now, who are teaching her to use lure modules and how gym battles work. I... don't know how to feel about it. A part of me says that I might have created a monster... and another part doesn't give a damn. Video games have never been just for kids. Ask anyone who's played The Sims - also known as 'The Sociopath Simulator'. And let's be honest: who of us doesn't want a piece of our childhood back? My mom wants to play pokemon? Nothing wrong with that! The fact that she's hanging out with eight-year-olds is a bit concerning - they might be a bad influence - but that's a problem for future Grete. Oh man, I feel sorry for her! Future Grete has nothing but problems. Wouldn't want to be her... Oh, wait...

...I had no idea what I was in for

After my year abroad, studying in Japan, I had the brilliant idea to head to Hawaii before going back home. I mean, the islands weren't that far away from Japan and I got tickets for a reasonable price. The plan was to head from Japan to Kauai, where Mary lived, spend a week or so there and then head to Estonia. Seemed like the perfect plan: to have a magical vacation before facing the harsh reality of being back home. I got the tickets, packed my bags and headed to the airport on the day I was supposed to leave. I even got and ESTA application so that I could stay in the US for a maximum of 90 days without a visa. Everything was going perfectly... until I got to the airport in Nagoya.

So, apparently the check-in lady had a hard time understanding what my plan was.

'So... You go to America?'

'Yes, to Hawaii. To visit a friend.'

'Ok. So... When you come back?'

'Uh... I won't. I'm going back to Estonia after visiting Hawaii.'

'But you don't have ticket back to Japan?'

'No, because I won't be coming back.'

'So... you staying in Hawaii? You have visa?'

'Ummm... no. I will go back to Estonia. Can't you check my reservation? I am going to Hawaii, then to Estonia.'

'Oh, okay. I will check.' A few moments later. 'Ah, I'm sorry but you have not bought ticket back to Japan.'

'Yeeees, I know. Because I will not be coming back. I will go to Estonia after visiting the US.'

'Ah, sorry! So you live in US?'

'No, I live in Estonia. You have my passport!'

'So... you go to... Esu... Osu.. Australia?'

'What? No! Estonia! Not Australia! But after I visit Hawaii!'

'Ah, excuse me for a moment.'

So I wait there, not even sure what's going on. I mean, it can't be that hard to understand that I'm leaving one country, visiting another one on my way home and then heading back to Estonia. So the nice lady returns and apologizes several times before going:

'Sorry, we can't print ticket to Estonia yet.'

'Yeah, that's fine. I won't need them for another week. Can I just get my ticket to Hawaii?'

'Ah, but where you live in America?'

.....what? Apparently you need to give them an address where they can contact you before you can enter the country. Who would've thought... They asked me for an address on the ESTA application but it wasn't demanded of me so I didn't think it mattered much. So after texting Mary and getting her address, writing it down on a little piece of paper the check-in lady gave me, I thought I was about done. I was wrong.

'Okay, here is your ticket and your bag go to Estonia.'

'Uh... What? No! I need my bag in Hawaii! Didn't we just settle this?'

'Oh, I'm sorry. I go ask.'

A couple of 'lost in translation' moments and many 'sorry's later they finally kind of got what my plan was. At least I think they did - I was still a bit unsure when I left them smiling awkwardly but I hoped for the best. After all, I had my tickets and they assured me my bags would be waiting for me in Hawaii. Great!

The flight was... less than perfect. For some reason the flight from Oahu to Kauai was super cold and I was freezing my ass off in the semi-arctic climate of the airplane. But before I knew it I was in Kauai where everything was vibrant, alive and so colorful it took my breath away. Mary was taking about all the amazing places she wanted to take me and I felt like I'd entered paradise. I never honestly thought that I would ever get to go to Hawaii but there I was. In the flesh... I couldn't wait for the amazing adventures the island had in store for me. 

Or maybe I could... The first place Mary decided to take me was Wailua falls. 'Yay! Waterfalls!' I thought like the naive child I was. 'What could go wrong around a waterfall?' I had no idea what was in store for me. A lot can go wrong near a waterfall. You could die getting to one. So, one morning we - me, Mary, her brother Carter, his girlfriend Caitlin and Kaia, Mary's dog - headed to Wailua falls for a nice refreshing dip. It sounded great. We packed our bags with snacks and beer, took an inflatable float with us and started driving. I remember being super excited. Carter and Caitlin were going to rappel off the falls - I didn't really know how they were going to do it but didn't put much thought into it. It was their hobby - I was just going there to relax. 

After like 30-40 minutes in the car we pulled over at a lookout spot and Mary announced that we'd arrived. Really? I could hear the waterfall but couldn't see anything. I looked up at the mountains surrounding us but couldn't see anything. Weird. We got out of the car and I could finally hear the waterfall but still couldn't see anything... until I looked down into the gaping chasm right in front of us. Oh... there it was... Now I understood Carter and Caitlin's plan. But that didn't explain how me, Mary and Kaia were going to get down there... I mean, the whole area was fenced off, with 'Danger' and 'Stay Out' signs everywhere and the occasional dead body of a fallen hiker sprawled out next to the road to serve as a warning. Okay, I might have made up that last bit but there was a fence and numerous warning signs.
Apparently, in Hawaii warning signs are for losers and tourists. And disregarding the fact that I was both, Mary dragged me through a whole in the fence, onto the edge of the chasm and told me we were going to hike down. 'How?!' was my first thought. The 'trail' went straight down and even the dog - nimble and confident - looked like she was having none of it. I have no words to describe the horrifying gaping abyss that was staring back at me as if it wanted to take my soul. It probably did.
We tried to get down using the path in front of us but that was too steep even for the locals, so we went around... crawling over branches and roots and trying to ignore the fact that there was a 100 meter drop right behind our backs. The way down was the most terrifying hike I'd ever taken. At certain points there were some ropes tied to trees that you could use to slowly make your way down, moving backwards to avoid looking at the chasm. Then there was the mud that made the hike even more slippery and difficult than it already was. Then came the rocks and roots that were trying to trip you up... And did I mention I had to do all that while carrying a backpack filled with beer and snacks? A backpack that kept sliding off and messing with my balance. My balance isn't very good on the best of days and this... this wasn't even a mediocre day. It was hell! I was terrified for my life the whole time so that when we reached the part of the trail that was basically flat I was still holding on to tree branches and vines for dear life.
'You do realize the ground is flat here, right?' Mary asked me while looking at me like I was a maniac cradling an imaginary baby, as I was slowly inching my way forward.
''I know! I just don't care, okay! I might still fall!'
I didn't though and in a few minutes I was down. It felt like the climb had lasted forever, where in reality it probably took like five minutes. But it had been the longest five minutes of my life. Was it worth it, though? Yes, yes it was. The pool was beautiful and the water just perfect to cool off in. The place looked like something out of a movie. Floating in the water and looking up at the falls I felt like I'd been transported to some sort of magical universe filled with fantastical creatures and probably unicorns. For some reason I was also reminded of the Jurassic Park movies... Everything looked so beautiful it was almost unreal - even the wildlife was something I'd only ever seen in movies. I could hardly believe I was there.
The climb back was much easier and less terrifying. For me climbing up has never been a problem since I can always grab onto something. Going down, however, is just the worst. So when we started going back I had no trouble making my way up the steep hill and back to the car. Sure, I was still a bit slow because I'm unaccustomed to climbing in general but I managed. The next day though... Well, let's just say my legs were not very happy with me. And even getting into and out of my bed was a challenge. I didn't even know your legs could hurt in so many different places in so many different ways...

...karaoke was a lie

This year I was in Japan on my birthday. Why? Because to be quite honest, I wanted to get away from home on that day. The older I get the more I start to despise my birthday. Yes, I realize how cliche it sounds but honestly, it's just such a hassle! Not to mention that since most of my friends are all over the place, it would be quite difficult to actually have a party and invite everyone I wanted. And I really don't like to make a big deal of it. So, to make things easier for myself I decided to leave the country altogether and see what Japan has in store for me.

Since we wanted to have a big reunion party anyway, we decided to combine parties and have a big celebration on Saturday, the 21st. I was all up for it because that meant I didn't have to be the center of attention but I could still enjoy an awesome party. Perfect! Our double-birthday-reunion-graduation party took place in our old neighborhood, just a few steps from the apartment building we used to live at. Sure, none of us lived there anymore and we all had to take the train back after the party but there was no other place we wanted to do it. It wouldn't have been right. So for old times' sake we headed to Shiogamaguchi to have our party.

The evening started as usual: we had some drinks, some food, had a nice long chat with everybody. I got to meet people I hadn't seen for two years and it was absolutely amazing. It really felt like I'd gone back in time because everything was so simple. Like no time had passed at all. For a few hours we were just sitting around, enjoying each other's company and toasting to our birthday people, graduates and to our reunion. As our time in the bar was coming to a close, it was time to head to karaoke, as we always did on these occasions.

I guess I didn't mention that the place we were celebrating at was a bar/tavern. The drinks were great and the food wasn't too shabby either but after two hours I felt like some snacks wouldn't hurt. As we were walking out of the bar Ophelie, my friend from France, decided that she desperately wanted a cheese nan. See, our old neighborhood had this amazing Indian restaurant with authentic Indians as owners, cooks and servers. The curry was good, the samosas delicious but the nan bread... It was just to die for! I've never had nan as good as that in my life (granted, I've never been to India, so....)! Especially their cheese nan - a soft round bread filled with delicious melted cheese. Mmmmmm.... cheese.... Anyway, before I knew it Ophelie had grabbed my hand and was running toward the restaurant. I, in turn, grabbed Tytti, who was just at the right place at the right time, and we made a mad dash to the restaurant, which was - surprisingly enough - still open.

I feel like they were just about to close because the place was completely devoid of customers as we burst through the door. Only the cooks and servers were standing around the counter, giving us an inquisitive look as we scooted closer to them, giggling and trying to seem sober (and probably failing at it). We asked if we could get some cheese nan to go and they were kind enough to fire up the stove and oblige. As we were waiting, one of the guys at the counter turned to us and asked us (in Japanese) 'Hey, weren't you guys here two years ago?'

I was shocked - and quite giddy - at that. They remembered us? Sure, we used to frequent the place but that had been two years ago! And I'm sure they'd seen enough foreigners during that period since it was so close to the apartment where both Chukyo and Meijo University exchange students lived. How did they remember us? I mean, sure, I used to go pretty crazy there. I remember one time Tytti and I had an extra nan with our curry and were basically dying laughing as we ate it. Why? Because by the time I'd taken the first bite I knew it was too much and I couldn't possibly finish it but the Northern European in me refused to waste food (even if I had gotten it for free) and so I was just stuffing it in, trying to ignore the pain in my abdomen and the urge to throw up. And I think Tytti felt the same thing. We were both suffering but we just couldn't show it or give up... And for us that was hilarious. But yeah, I didn't expect them to remember us. It was unexpectedly sweet but definitely strange. Two years! 

We explained that we'd been studying abroad two years ago and talked about random stuff while they were making the nan and when they were ready we ran to catch up with the others... which was easier than we thought because they were in still the store a few meters away. The whole group moved to the car-wash/karaoke place (because why wouldn't you karaoke while getting your car washed! Oh, Japan, you so crazy!) and got a big room where we all would fit. A bunch of us crowded into the elevator and headed to the room... only to realize that we had no idea which room was ours... because the person with the receipt wasn't with us... Logic! 

Thankfully the car-wash-karaoke was small enough that we ran into the others as  we exited the elevator and soon enough we were set up in a cozy little room with our snacks and our cheese nan and we were singing all our old favorites. 'Bohemian Rhapsody' is always a fun one, 'I''ll make a man out of you' gets everybody pumped, 'Don't stop believing' is a classic that everybody can sing along to and... 'Thrift shop'? Yeah, sure, why not - because everybody knows the lyrics to 'Thrift shop', right? As always karaoke was a lot of fun. People were dancing, screaming their lungs our singing and just having the time of their lives and so was I. I'd forgotten how much I missed this. Nobody felt shy or awkward singing in front of others and everybody was singing their heart out. I was full of life and full of energy and just loving it.

So, how was it a lie, you might ask.

Well... The thing is... when you're with your friends and slightly tipsy (read: drunk) and you're singing songs that you love, you feel like everything is perfect... and you think you sound awesome... Well, this time Mary recorded some of our karaoke, for the memories. And honestly... listening to the recording the next day was... painful. It's a hard to describe but it was hilariously bad. Like a group of rabid cats danging tap on metal barrels... while trying to play an out of tune violin... It was so bad I couldn't stop laughing after hearing it. Did we really sound like that? Yes. Yes, we did. In karaoke you feel like a superstar! You feel like you know all the lyrics and you sound just like the original singer! Like everything is amazing! Aaaaand then you hear yourself when you're sober and alone and you realize that there's a reason you never sing in front of a crowd. It doesn't take away from the memory: I still had a great time and I regret nothing. I just know now that no matter how well I think I sing, karaoke is a lie. It's kind of like mass hypnosis: if everyone believes they're singing well then it will sound like it... until you're faced with the harsh reality... 

Still, I have to say that it was an awesome birthday party. I remember walking back from the train station after leaving the karaoke place, spraining my ankle, getting some snacks and then just hanging out on a little public balcony with Mary. We were laughing about... something. I can't even remember what but it was hilarious. I didn't even mind the pain in my ankle... And I remember thinking: man, I wish I could be in Japan for every one of my birthdays from now on. Well, who knows - considering my track record I might wind up in Japan again someday... maybe even next year. 

...I was on top of the world

Since I already started talking about my time in Hokkaido, I might as well continue with the theme. Summer is festival season in Japan. In every town, village and city there's at least one big festival during the summer months. I'm not even going to pretend I know what all those festivals are held for but I do know I love them. Japanese festivals are just amazing: street food, fireworks, ban-dancing, the works! Everything is just a hundred times more awesome than usual! I've seen several different festivals during my trips to Japan but the most memorable one has to be the one in Onuma.

It was in August, I don't remember the exact date. By that time I'd already seen two festivals but apparently this new one was going to be much bigger that the others and our volunteer group leader told us that we were going to help with the festival. I had no idea what she meant by that but seeing as we were volunteers I already assumed that we'd gave to do something to help out. So, when the morning of the festival came, I got dressed as usual and headed out with the others, not suspecting a thing.

It was raining in the morning - not heavily but it seemed like it would last for a while. We got to the spot where the festival was supposed to begin and found out that we would be spending the whole day outdoors. Oh yay! Because that's exactly what I want to do on a chilly and rainy morning! The locals gave us some traditional clothes and separated us into two groups: guys and girls. Then they treated us all to a small cup of sake and gave us our assignment. So there were these small shrines standing on huge wooden frames and apparently our job was to carry them across the village, stop at certain designated spots, twirl the thing around a few times and then head off to another spot. It was some sort of... uh... religious custom? That was supposed to bring prosperity to wherever we went? Honestly, I don't remember exactly what it all meant but I knew it had some significance. The shrines might have looked small but with the decorations and the wooden frame it was supported on, it must have weighed at least 100 kilos if not more. My guess is more. Sure, we weren't the only ones carrying it. A bunch of women from the village gave us a hand. But it was still pretty heavy and carrying it across town in the rain did not seem like an enjoyable enterprise. Still, we were volunteers, there to help out... 

What started as a daunting task soon became a magical journey as we discovered that not all was bad. Sure, the shrine we were carrying was heavy and the road was long but there was a bunch of us joking around, chatting and having fun. After the first stop where we had to run around in circles with the shrine thingy and bob it up and down, we got to set it down for a moment and enjoy the buffet that was set out for us. There were some snacks, water, juice and of course alcohol. On a rainy day like that it was very much welcomed and I helped myself to some beer and chips before moving on. I soon discovered that the whole festival was like that: we would reach some sort of store or other public spot and the people there would offer us food, drinks and mostly alcohol. The entire point was to get the shrine-carriers drunk so it would be easier and much more fun to carry those things around. Suddenly I didn't feel bad about drinking before noon anymore and the road ahead looked much more fun. 

After being treated to beer, wine, sake and even champagne we reached the center of the village where suddenly the guys were looking for volunteers from among the girls. Volunteers for what? I had no idea but I was buzzed enough to do it, whatever it was. So I followed some Japanese guy to the men's shrine and turned out that they needed a girl to climb onto the wooden frame and stand in front of the shrine while they carried it around town. Hmm... Standing on top of a wet and heavy wooden frame with nothing to hold onto while a bunch of drunk guys carry you around town, twirl you and try to toss you off the thing? That sounded... awesome! I still don't know why they wanted a girl to stand on the shrine but I don't really care either. Perhaps it was some sort of tradition. Perhaps they just wanted to have fun. Or maybe it was some strange ritual and they were offering the girl to Satan. All I know is that it was absolutely amazing! And crazy! Definitely crazy!
I wasn't the first girl up there - they gave all the volunteer girls a shot. My first ride lasted only a few minutes and wasn't all that eventful but standing on top felt wonderful. A part of me realized that the wooden boards I was standing on were wet and slippery and my hold on the shrine wasn't all that stable. Also, I noticed that the guys carrying the shrine were getting pretty tipsy and the shrine was swaying from side to side. It was great! After a while it was someone else's turn on top and then another girl's until all of us had been there at least once. But there was still a long way to go and a lot more to drink. Again it was time to find a volunteer who would be willing to climb up there for a second time. Guess who was the first in line.
So there I was again, standing on the slippery wooden grate and waving my arms around as the guys carrying the shrine were literally jumping and swaying the thing from side to side. Yup, I wasn't even holding onto the thing because I felt invincible. I guess it was mostly because of the alcohol but also the atmosphere, the people and the adrenaline rush I got from standing high above everyone else made me feel fearless and... even powerful. I was having the time of my life, yelling out random Japanese words that everyone else was chanting but I didn't know the meanings of. Didn't even matter. Sure, I was completely drenched by that point - because it hadn't stopped raining for one moment - and doing something kind of stupid and completely reckless but I didn't feel the cold or the rain or the fear... I just felt... happy. I was a part of this crazy drunken ritual and I was loving it! Even when we crossed a bridge and the guys started to jump on one leg, making the shrine sway like crazy, I had no doubt in my mind that everything would be fine. And it was!
By the time the festival was over it had almost stopped raining. We were treated to more food and drinks and because we were all wet and half frozen we headed home to relax and have a short nap before the after party that was going to take place in a few hours. I got back to my room, changed out of my dripping clothes and crawled onto my tiny little futon on the floor. I woke later at 3 pm with a hangover. Oh yeah, did I mention that the festival started at 8 in the morning? Because it did. And that was the first and last time in my life I've gotten that drunk before 5 pm. Then again, it's always 5 pm somewhere, isn't it. (Fun fact: that was the first time in my life I heard that phrase and I've been using it ever since. Not every day, of course... I don't have a problem!)

...I got lost in time

The other day I decided to go running. Right now I live in a really small town on the western coast of Estonia that's almost secluded from the rest of the world. At least that's what it looks like since it takes forever for me to get there from my hometown. Anyway, whenever I go running I use a small trail that goes through a pine forest. It is meant for runners and cyclists so right now there's usually a bunch of other people on the trail, going in different directions. But on that day it was completely abandoned and since my phone had run out of battery I'd left it at home. So there I was, running through the woods at sunset with only the sounds of birds and insects accompanying me, breathing in the scent of moss and pine needles. Sounds kind of romantic when I put it like that... and leave out the fact that I was slowly dying of exhaustion and sweating like a pig. Also, there was a bug in my eye and one flew into my nostril as I was running so it wasn't all that pleasant.

But somehow on that run I started thinking about the most romantic time in my life, so to speak. It wasn't romantic in the sense that there was much romance going on in my life (on that front it wasn't all that exciting) but it was a time that was so different, exceptional and removed from my normal routine that it left a lasting impression on me. I still remember that time as if it was yesterday and it always seems to me as if I'd been living in a different world back then. A simpler, more beautiful and more poetic world where time stood still and I had a taste of freedom I'd never had before.

This sounds super sappy when I write it down but that's how it was. But let's get to the point. The time I'm talking about is are the two months I spent in Japan when I was 22. A bit of backstory is necessary here. It was the year I got my Bachelor's in psychology - I had just finished school, gotten into the Master's program but I was not really sure if that's what I wanted to do with my life. Sure, psychology was interesting but I didn't have a passion for it like my peers. I felt like I wanted to help people, to be a counselor but the Master's program was basically meant for people who wanted to do research. So I was a bit stuck. I felt like it was the path I should follow - after all, I'd gotten in and that's what everybody else was doing - but I didn't know if it was something I actually wanted to do. I was anxious, confused and just plain unhappy so one night I decided to apply to a volunteer program that took place in Japan. I didn't expect that they would actually accept me - it was just a random idea that occurred to me in the middle of the night when I should have been long asleep. So when they got back to me and told me they'd be happy to have me in the program I was shocked to say the least.

To be honest, for a few days I was seriously considering bailing on the whole affair. Sure, it was an awesome opportunity to go to Japan - something I'd always wanted to do - but it felt scary as hell. I'd never been that far away from home. I'd only traveled in Europe before (and a day-trip to Morocco that almost doesn't count) and I'd never traveled for so long. Two months in Japan? It was... terrifying! So what made me eventually buy the tickets and go there? I just felt so stuck in my life that I felt I needed an escape. I just needed to run away from myself for a little while. So I did.

It was mid-July when I arrived in the tiny village of Onuma in Hokkaido. It was an unusually hot and sunny summer (according to the locals), which was a welcome change after the chilly and rainy summer we'd been having in Estonia. There were around 15 of us volunteers, we lived in a tiny cottage on the edge of the village, slept on the floor in cramped rooms where you could hardly move around without stepping on someone, cooked meals for eachother and worked every day either around the lake or on the nearby mountain. It was absolutely amazing. Sure, the work was physically demanding and not very exciting. And there wasn't anything to do in the village once we'd finished with our daily chores. And people kept staring at us since we were foreigners. But it was the most carefree time of my life!

In Onuma I had no obligations. Sure, I had to work and cook but that was it. Every morning someone would pick us up and take us either to the mountain or the lake to work, food was brought to us by local farmers and workers, any time we needed anything we could just contact the program coordinator and he would bring us stuff. And it was so quiet. The place was tiny and so secluded from the outside world - it felt like another universe entirely. Everything was taken care of. I didn't need to worry or think about anything. There was no school, no questions about what I wanted to do with my life, no need to worry about money or the future... I was in a dream, living a simple life where all I had to do was wake up at the right time and wait for someone to tell me what I was going to do with the rest of my day. Every day was the same so it was as if time stood still. Even during the weekends when we went to Hakodate, the closest big city, or our coordinator took us to festivals, it felt like time didn't pass. Like the summer would last forever. But of course it didn't...
I met some amazing people during that short period of my life and had some crazy adventures but what I miss most about that time was the freedom. Just being away from everything, in a small forgotten place where people didn't expect anything of me, was just what I needed. I'm not going to lie: after coming back to Estonia there was a long period where I entertained the idea of becoming a goat herder in a mountain village in China. Why goats? Why China? Hell knows! I just wanted to get away and lead a simple life with little to no obligations and worries. And of course I wanted to go back. For me, Onuma had become a symbol of freedom and simplicity and a life free of worries.
I guess many people who've never actually lived in the country have this naive romantic image of 'the simple life'. So did I. It took me a while before I realized that in the long run, I couldn't manage living like that. Two months were fine. Great, even! But you can't run away from who you are indefinitely. And even though I loved being in Hokkaido, it was all in the past. Going back wouldn't have been the same. I managed to escape for a little while but you can't do that forever - that wouldn't be escaping anymore, it would be your life. And even though I love traveling, I need some stability in my life.
So why did I even start this rant? Honestly, I'm not even sure anymore. Probably so I would have an excuse to talk about things that happened ages ago and bring up funny stories from my time in Hokkaido. And to remind myself that it's nice to revisit memories but I should keep in mind that the grass isn't always greener on the other side. The grass in Onuma was green - amazingly so - but it was so only for that one short period. If I would go back now, it wouldn't be as green. Moral of the story: don't start blogging in the middle of the night on an empty stomach. Also, the 'simple life' is fun for a while but sooner or later you need to face reality and realize that life isn't supposed to be simple. Running away can be simple but that's not a life you'd want to lead forever.