Journal
02 June 2021
Spending time with grandma
Dear friends,
Today I’d like to share a real-life grandma update with you. I’ve been posting fun moments of the past months, but naturally there are always less cheerful stories in the background too.
I was away for about ten days to take care of some paperwork that I could only do in person, and although she has been living by herself until I arrived here last year and I have been away for this length of time since then, I noticed that grandma was not well when I returned. She seemed absent and so frail. When I sat down with her later in the evening she said with tears in her eyes that she felt lonely when I was away. This just broke my heart. I cried for the rest of that night.
It made me realise how hard she is trying to be ok. She is used to doing everything on her own, she has such an independent spirit and is physically strong for a 102 year old. She says that she is a woman of the Taisho era, people who are known to be strong and resilient as they experienced the Second World War as young adults (my grandmother had her firstborn toddler at the time). But when she told me she was so lonely when I was away, this was the most direct way of her telling me that she needs support.
She didn’t take a bath the entire time I was away because she was afraid of something happening whilst I was away. It is summer now and hot and sticky, and I can only imagine the discomfort she went through. I am suspecting that she didn’t eat much either.
For me this has so many layers.
I came to live with her last year, leaving my life in London behind because I knew that she needed someone to look after her. My mother lives in Germany with my father, and usually comes to stay with grandma for several months, but they couldn’t travel because of the pandemic. The house was falling apart, and I found myself fixing everything, cooking two meals a day as well as making afternoon matcha treats, cleaning and decluttering, and responding to family affairs almost constantly. There were several traps that were readily waiting for me to fall into - to feel resentful for being so roped in, for my time not appearing to be my own, for being at the centre of all sorts of family affairs that I definitely didn't want to be part of and for having put myself into this situation, to name just a few.
And the other side of this is the time I get to spend with my beloved grandmother - to live with her, not just visit for the summer, and to discover her wicked sense of humour that she is allowing to come to the surface only now that life has become a bit less tough for her. I get to live in her huge house (what a luxury after London) where time seemed to pass so slowly in my childhood, to witness all the beautiful flowers in her garden through the seasons, to be in the beautiful countryside during a pandemic, probably the safest place to be right now.
As I’m taking care of all the chores around the house, I am amazed at what she has been doing herself so far (she did have some helpers come round but they’d just do a bit of surface cleaning). And I see myself in her too. How she wants to do things herself, and doesn’t want to ask for help. But there comes a time where we both need to be supported, and that is ok. She said yesterday that I understand her so well, probably more than anyone.
She acknowledges the work I am putting in, and maybe saw it even more while I was away. I didn’t realise just how much life force I have been lending her, and she has bounced back already. She talks a lot, sings again, and eats cake as always. She thanks me for everything, every meal I make and every evening we say yoroshiku onegai shimasu for the next day.
This is a turning point for me. I decided to go all in and dedicate my time to grandma for now, instead of seeing it as a temporary situation until my next chapter. That time is now. Who knows how much time we have left together, and I want to make every moment count.
28 January 2021
The Art of Making Pickles
Grandma threw some shade yesterday regarding some pickles I made. To my defense I’d like to say that she never bothered to teach me the method, so I’m learning by eye as well as trial and error. Last time she criticised how I sliced the carrots and daikon, that they were a tad too thick. This time she said that the carrot to daikon to cucumber ratio is not quite right. She does say it in the nicest way though, with a smile and with a twinkle in her eye. I can’t help but adore her for having such firm opinions about how the world should be.
So she said the carrot-daikon ratio is off, and I first thought she meant the flavour wouldn’t balance. Then she said that since I’m artistically talented, she thought I’d understand that too many carrots mess up the colour palette. Ok, taking pickle making up a notch. Who would’ve thought that making pickles is also an artistic endeavor, but then I’m in Japan so I shouldn’t be surprised.
Here’s the recipe for those who are interested. Every Japanese meal pretty much will have a small side of pickles - it’s great for your digestion.
Japanese pickles
Ingredients:
Daikon (Japanese white radish)
Carrot
Cucumber (Japanese cucumbers are small)
Rice vinegar
Sugar
Salt
Method:
The perfect vegetable ratio is approximately 1 large carrot, 3-4 daikon slices depending on the daikon size (to have an equal amount of slices as carrot), and 1-2 small cucumbers.
Thinly julienne the carrots and daikon (slice into thin sticks).
Slice the cucumber diagonally (but slightly thicker than the other vegetables).
Throw them into a bowl and salt them, mix through.
Weigh them down with a bowl overnight (in Japan we have a pickle maker that squeezes them). The salt will pull out water from the vegetables.
Discard the salty water the next day.
Boil equal parts sugar and vinegar (approximately half a cup each) until the sugar is dissolved. Let it cool completely.
Squeeze out all remaining water from the vegetables and mix with the pickle juice.
Will keep for a few weeks in the fridge.
23 January 2021
Letting myself be seen
My friend Chikae and I did our first Insta Live today to talk about Human Design and navigating life. This is noteworthy for me as it is another piece in allowing myself to be seen in the world (like this journal), something I have been avoiding for so long. But Chikae and I have been bouncing off each other’s energies and found ourselves growing beyond our old versions of self in the process. People’s responses have been truly wonderful, and it reminds me that our own story can be inspiring to others even if we don’t think much of it.
Meanwhile, it has been relentlessly raining all day without end. I find it soothing and also think about the plant world and how the rain quenches their thirst. I allowed myself to have a quiet Saturday, although I am surprised that a noticeable separation between weekdays and the weekend still exists after a year of lockdown.
Grandma cut through the calm by watching a sumo tournament. It felt nostalgic as it reminded me of my grandfather who used to love it. As a child I was fascinated by the beautifully rich ceremony, the Shinto stage and outfits, and especially its dramatic soundscapes of the gasping audience and the referee yelling “nokkotta-nokkotta-nokkotta!”. Grandma sat at the edge of her seat with an amused smile on her face, commenting throughout and having an all-round great time. She’d call them “kawaii, kawaii!” (cute, cute!) and I couldn’t quite figure out if sumo wrestlers are her type, or if she sees them as entertaining curiosities.
18 January 2021
The Shopping List
Although I can speak enough to get by, my Japanese writing skills are about at the level of a six year old. Grandma however, is a very accomplished calligraphy master. Now that I am in Japan, I figured that I should at least try to improve my writing while I’m in the presence of a trusted teacher. Everyday situations are the best way to dive right in, so writing a shopping list is a perfect opportunity. I’m convinced the result will make anyone capable of reading it cry laughing.
The Japanese language consists of three components: a basic syllable system, similar to the alphabet, called hiragana and katakana (typically used for foreign words), and the character system called kanji (which originates from the Chinese language). Unlike the straightforward syllable system, each kanji has a different meaning and several ways of pronouncing it. Consequently, this means that if you only know a word by sound you might not know how to write it in kanji characters, only in syllables. Hiragana and katakana have approximately 46 syllables each, whereas in order to read a newspaper, one needs to know about 3,000 different kanji characters (the Japanese language appears to encompass about 10,000-50,000).
If you’re still with me, thank you, I’m getting to my point. So the shopping list is a wild array of six-year-old me using the syllables, trying to use kanji and but not knowing the correct character, and throwing in some english descriptions like “little white fish” (because I don’t know what they’re called). It’s a mix and match language fruit salad. I realise that grandma is a graceful teacher though, as I write my scribbles (also in deep shame of my handwriting in the presence of a master whose work is in the Metropolitan Museum’s collection) she would chuckle in an amused but loving way, and then patiently show me the correct form.
Shopping lists have suddenly become a bit of a project, and I have long embraced the fact that I might not learn Japanese in this lifetime.
16 January 2021
AFTER the rain
I’ve always been on a journey, following the whispers. And here I am, in Japan, living with my almost 102 year old grandmother in the quiet of the tea fields of Shizuoka whilst the world around us seems to be burning.
Since I arrived last year, the days are mostly quietly passing simply one day at a time.
Today is one of those days. Waking up, making coffee, meditating, sitting in the sun, watching the clouds go by. Although this is so perfect, I can feel the resistance. I should be working. I shouldn’t be so lazy. Things are falling apart, I need to be doing, doing, doing things. There’s so much to do around the house.
But I surrender to my headache that has been following me all morning and do nothing instead.
The rain arrives in the afternoon. I’ve been looking out the window and expected to see the showers for the last half hour. I already felt it in my body, and then it’s finally here. The clouds burst open and the sun throws a dramatic double rainbow into the sky. My headache lifts with an almost imperceptible sigh. Perhaps, just perhaps, the year will be just fine if we let go of all our expectations and invite in what it has in store for us.