Sunday, August 20, 2006

Return to The Sleepy Isles

I knew I had arrived back in New Zealand when, on asking for a pen at the customs desk to correct a minor mistake on my entrance card, it was thrown, gruffly, at me by the lady on the other side of the counter. After tersely scanning my passport into the system she then cordially threw my important I.D. document back at me with the same disregard.

The first thought that ran through my mind was ‘Fuck! I should draw my Katana and slit this insolent whore’s throat for this outrage!’ Then I regained my composure and realized that I was a reasonably well off world traveler and she was a sullen native girl with a nasty case of the oral herpes.

I am back in the land of the huge pink man again. The time since my last posting has been something of a blur. Whirlwind emotions ranging from the high of being in the front four rows of the Daft Punk gig, the lows of losing my wallet two thirds of the way through same gig, the arduous process of getting my money out of the bank without my normal I.D., getting the paperwork to replace my Alien card and saying goodbye to all my friends and Fumiko and the mid sections of 20 hours of international travel.

Alright, it’s not like I’m flying to the states, but I am sleeping three hours behind everything here. In fact I’m sleeping between 12 to 13 hours a night.

Suffice to say that right now everything is looking pretty surreal. The currency has changed here for one thing. Everyone is enormous and Mt. Wellington supermarket made me remember that in Japan people take pride in their appearance even if they’re popping out down to the store for a six of beer.

I’m trying to ween myself off the “in Japan” range of conversation topics, but it’s pretty hard when it’s been a rather dominating factor in your life for two years. Bear with me.

New Zealand, it’s very clean down here, but for now it all feels askew, dislocated, a-drift. I can already feel that it’s going to take a while to get my bearings back.

I’ll do up a new banner for the page this afternoon too.


Anonymous Rohan said...

Adam, i know exactly what you mean. coming down of japan is tough. its like being high on crack for a year (or 2) straight, then going cold turkey. withdrawal symptoms, blurred speech, the yearning for one more hit. man, ive been out a year, and still feel the urge to plunge the syringe of Japanese back in a vein. and i never really escaped in the first place..

great to hear you back. im living in brisbane now.

10:38 AM  

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