Literature and food - what else do you need?

I recently read an intriguing book "Kafka on the shore" by a Japanese author Haruki Murakami. The back cover was full of praises: Spellbinding! Magical! I wanted to add my own view: I didn't get it!

It was an amazing book, a proper page-turner. But there were a few things that didn't make sense to me or that I couldn't connect with the rest of the plot. I did get it in major parts. It was confusing in a differend way than the movie about Facebook... The whole book was a symbol, a riddle, and as the author himself says, you ought to read it several times in order to fully understand it.

Most impressed I was by the usage of tiny details in the narrative and how the author could create such believable characters of diffrend ages and natures. The funniest thing was a young truck truck driver hooking up with the other "main character", a retarded old man... And it was completely natural. I do recommend reading it also culturewise. The Japanese seem to like eating eel and jam sandwiches. And everyone wears nice brand clothes.

I'm sticking with Asia now and starting to read Memoirs of a Geisha.

And talking of Asia, we had lunch in a Chinese restaurant yesterday. Cheap buffet always appeals to me and a cute logo with a panda doesn't hurt either. The place was nearly empty which is usually a bad sign. And the buffet was far from being really Chinese. They had their usual Szechuan chicken and the likes alongside with CHIPS and SUSHI and some gross fritters. Onion rigns barely had onion inside. There even was ketchup and mayo to satisfy English barbars. (Not offense to the English. You know what I meant.)

I thought it's sad that Chinese restaurants are rarely authentic. But the place was truly rubbish aswell. Also, Chinese waiters (in other countires than China I imagine) make me feel akward because they're so artificially welcoming and friendly all the time.

There's something mysterious about the East indeed...

About being less great than usually

Do you ever have that feeling that the impression you've given on yourself is completely distorted? Deep inside you know for sure you're smart, funny and charming and your close friends would agree. But it's easy to turn into a complete differend person, say, at work where you're not always at ease or on top of things especially if you're in a foreign country...

When I started working in my current job I thought it's going to be easy. Firstly, I got experiencein this field and secondly, I'm a girl. I know it might be a sexistic thing to say but guys are always a bit easier on girls and my boss is a guy. Later I figured it doesn't help much if you're as unlucky as I've been.

All along I've been testing my boss' s patience by not understanding what he says in incredible speed and a broad northern dialect. It makes me look quite daft to react with a few seconds' delay to orders given to me. I've also done two major blunders. Both of them were accidents and merely caused by my will to be a good worker.

It must've been the second week when I broke the key. I was locking a vending machine after topping it up and found it hard to close the door properly. I took the key out and pushed the door briskly. As I started to give the lock another try I noticed the key had snapped broken. The missing piece was nowhere to be seen and I thought it must be inside the lock. I had no idea how it all happened.

Naturally my boss wasn't very happy but he only gave me one bad look. I emptied the vender with heavy heart.

The following week I attacked another machine. I had been trained to use the till somewhat but I found it a bit complicated because you're not able to cancel anything you press. Once I was charging for a jacket potato and pressed the wrong key. In my mind my following actions made perfect sense but somehow I managed to mess up and the till went "beeeep" and even my older co-worker didn't know what was wrong.

She called the boss. (Whenever she calls the boss it feels like asking the Queen to come out of the palace and open a tin for you.) He was not happy but luckily it didn't take long to sort the till out. I felt like an idiot who brakes everything she touches.

All kinds of small things have happened after that. I mixed up twenty pounds with forty pounds. I've been told twice to put less chicken in a wrap. I've been trying to make myself invisible.

By the way, my boss is leaving and a new one's starting after half-term. And I will have the chance to be smart, funny and charming again.

 

3D

Long time no see.

I'm back to the third reality. In case you wonder, the first one is home and the second is random places all over the world(?). This third dimension is very special for a few reasons. It feels like a second home even though I never really got fond of it. Things are always quite differend here jobwise and moneywise... It's Manchester of course!

The first month I spent in a proper ghetto as it's called by anyone who doesn't live there. Or lives there but doesn't really want to. The area has the highest number of blacks and Caribbeans in the whole city. It's also habitated by few white people, mostly unemployed living on benefits. Junkies, weedheads and the likes. Didn't really feel good about living there. Every time I got off the buss with a bunch of rastas I felt annoyed. I didn't go out in night time either.

Now I live close to where I lived back in the day. There's plenty of students in the neighbourhood, it's safe and buses are frequent. No temperamental black ladies yelling in the street. It's peaceful and one of the biggest parks in Manchester is right behind our house. I feel strange though when I'm surrounded by students every morning on the bus. I know I'm one of them but then again I'm not. I don't get off at uni. I go to work.

In the third reality is sometimes hard to remember who you are because there's barely anything that reminds of home. That's why it's important to come to town, write nonsense and listen to Kolmas Nainen on the library computer...!


-k