Dalai Lama and Angus and Julia Stone

One of the benefits of living in New York is getting closer to the 'stage'. And what I mean here is a metaphorical stage of happening... be it a speaking event, a concert, a training.
Listening to Ludovico Einaudi, The XX, Angus and Julia Stone in the Reykjavik twilights, reading Brene Brown or Pema Chodron on those rare moments when I would open a book, or liking the posts of my friends in India about Dalai Lama's lectures, I have never dreamt of seeing any of it live. There was such a huge gap between my apartment in Iceland and everything else in the world, that I took it for granted that I would be watching these storytellers not from the floor of the performance hall, but from the comfort of my chair by flipping through pages of other people's experiences.
And since it was perfectly fine, I haven't embraced the opportunity of narrowing that gap right away, when moving to New York. But in this past week I have bridged it twice.

Here is how it happened. I was running in Brooklyn last Saturday, a nice fun run organized by Nike Club. It took me around the borough and made me realize how beautiful this part of New York City was. We run through parks, markets, streets filled with old colorful houses (reminded me of New Orleans somehow), all touched with sun and seasoned with kind autumn in the air. So I decided to get back later that evening. Jaime mentioned Brooklyn Bazaar and couple of eateries, so I started googling things to do in Brooklyn to make for a few hours of exploration. That's how I stumbled on Angus and Julia's concert on Music Hall of Williamsburg happening the following week. I jumped with excitement, as it was one of my favorite bands, and then I jumped again with disappointment, as I realized the tickets were sold out. I went to Brooklyn that afternoon and forgot about Angus and Julia for a while.

The next day I went to a yoga class down at Union Square. Amidst the shoulder stands and totally unaccessible (for me) upside down postures, the teacher mentioned she will be away next week attending Dalai Lama's lectures. I lost my already shaky balance and spent the rest of the class in savasana contemplating the chances of me ever seeing Dalai Lama in person.

I got home that night and turned to google to help locate the upcoming lectures. And there it was, in NYC, just a day before I head back to Iceland. I naturally clicked on 'Buy' button, before even checking the price. And of course the tickets were sold out. Bammer! That made me think of Angus and Julia again. So I refined my search and went to re-seller sites and ended up securing the tickets for both, cursing the people I was buying it from as being smart (and greedy) they have secured more tickets than they ever needed in advanced and selling it to poor last-minute souls like me at exorbitant prices...

I've enjoyed the concert on Monday and am looking forward to becoming enlightened next week :).

I also can't believe how many people that I look up to I've shuffled the floor with so far - Arianna Huffington, Brene Brown, Eve Ensler, Kris Carr, I am definitely grateful for these encounters and totally incredulous to the fascinating opportunities New Yorkers have for getting close to the stage.

From Reykjavik to New York

Wow, what an encounter; can only happen in New York! That thought has visited me about a dozen times now, since I moved here. Last time, just yesterday, after I finished my 3-hour-long Spanish class. I was savoring a new book by Elizabeth Gilbert (freshly fetched in the New York Public Library) in a Japanese cake house tucked in the lapels of my favorite place in New York - Bryant Park. The book was wonderful, not the content, mind you, as I haven’t started to fully comprehend what it was about yet, but the pages, the cover, the format – so much beauty in one simple object.  Suddenly, I’ve got distracted by a notion that someone was standing over my table…

Well, not going to tell you the rest of the story, but this happens here a lot. You meet people, who you were secretly hoping to meet.  You get insight or advice delivered by strangers and it leads you ways you weren’t sure how to hop on to begin with. You make meaningful connections in the city, where millions of people are carving their journey, and you know what, people are friendly and often helpful here.

So, what else Lyuba, besides meeting strangers, you’d ask?

Well, it’s still summer here, if you asked me. True, the leaves are turning yellow and some have gracefully fallen on the asphalt. I notice more and more of them every day dancing with the wind when I am out running. So, technically, it’s autumn, but for us, Icelanders, it’s just the hay day of summer. It’s +15 for the argument’s sake!

Then, there is endless choice of food and endless choice of cool places. It’s draining on your wallet, I must admit, and, possibly, on your digestive system too, but, what the fork, you only live in New York once (and generally live for that matter). So I’ve been exploring and educating my gastro-esthetical senses (hence the Japanese cake house).  To shush the alarm, my most-visited are vegetarian and vegan places still, so I am not devouring funky animals just yet.

My favorite discovery though is enormous assets of the New York Public Library that I have a free access to (except for when I overdue books, which happens often). I always loved reading, or rather the thought of doing it, as I never had time really. I even have started a book club back in Iceland, but was struggling to finish something in a month. Now, I have time and I have all the books I want, I even have a reading sofa and gazillion cafes, where reading is appropriate, so I do that a lot. I can almost feel how I am becoming smarter by the day, don’t you? (joking J). Anyway, it’s a real gift to catch up on reads that I was piling into my to do list all these years.

And, you know what, I’ve also realized that you don’t have to move to New York to have any of these. You just have to pause and notice what’s around and give yourself a permission to admire it. Give yourself permission to un-busy yourself and start living, instead of doing life, because a place is just a metaphor, and life is happening right now.

Camera rolling, action, cut!

And so it is... done. My first short has been screened today along with other 13 shorts. I walked out of the school with a certificate of a film maker into the possibility of becoming a Woody Allen.
It was fun... stressful, but fun. I laughed hard, broke rules, was screamed at, shed tears, screamed back, probably got some grey hair, made friends, made enemies and everything in between along the way. I ate bad, skipped running, had coffee, stayed up late, woke too early, read too little, cared too much... I forgot where is the mirror, did my nails in the metro, brushed my hair while walking and plucked my legs while having picnic by the Louvre - I multitasked and cut corners on everything I could... I didn't blog, didn't speak to my family, didn't have much time for friends... I walked the same streets in Paris, trying to steal the beauty here and there when it was on the way... I pushed for resources, for time and for vision... They yelled, I yelled back... And that's how I finished my first short. 

Daydreaming

I haven't been running for, what it seems like, ever. My obsession became my course and the new shoes, have totally screwed up my plan of arriving at the finish line of the Reykjavik marathon before the clock hit 3:15. I know I could do, it seems I won't... 

It saves up loads of time not running - I sleep longer and have some space between the things planned for the day, but I till have no time to keep my blog up to date... Is it always a choice to live life or to write about one? We should have asked Tolstoy, he should have known. 

Well, one benefit of not running, and not blogging, if we are on it, is that you could mono task and actually do something good. My recent friend Federico, could focus for a while and produce an amazing pasta only italians can cook (you better not distract him in the process). So I got into working on my script and a, soon to become, oscar-winning movie (even though my Russian friend who calls Federico - Fedya (she adds 'zanuda' most of the time) says that the Palm d'Or is better. 

My shoot was today in fact... have to wait till the editing is done to see if I can run for Oscar's. 

Becoming a Woody Allen

As I am rushing out for a second day of the workshop, I am leaving just a small logline of yesterday here: the filmmaking course has started with me being late (of course), the chairs being strangely uncomfortable (uh, strange they haven't figured it out yet), the classmates interesting (nice!), the teachers clever (for a change) and the whole thing quite exciting! 

I guess I've made a millimeter of a step towards becoming a Woody Allen (in a skirt), and so I don't blame him anymore for getting by with only one movie a year (which I am on a lookout for, and every time regret seeing it right away when it comes out, as the wait for the next one is the whole year!) - those bloody scripts take time to  develop! 

Cherries, music and a sunburn

Alors, my morning started extremely early... it was about 5 when I first opened one eye to check what the faithful clock on the sleeping next to me iPhone had to say. French people like to talk, I had no idea they liked it this much - those voices from unfinished since evening conversations kept bouncing of the walls of my tiny apartment, entering through the open window. Should I go for a run?... nah, another chance at sleeping, worked out fine. Ended up sleeping too long though and the planned 28K run  had to shrink to 8K only, as there were other adventures waiting...
Marche de Bastille was the first I picked on the way. It felt like everyone came here this morning, crowds of people trying and buying or yelling and selling. For an icelander (well, someone who lives there anyway) this all felt like a museum, the choice was intriguing. I spend an hour choosing bread and cheese, fruit and some greens, and just didn't want to leave, as it felt like being in a boiling with life pot.
I ended up joining a picnic with the people I have never met before. It was fun. And within the first 5 minutes I got a comment that made me laugh - I am so 'structured' - you could apparently see it from the way I cut the bread and arranged the cheese. Heh, hard to hide the core character traits, and you always take yourself with you, even to a picnic.
Hours later, I left the fun and set by the Seine with a book, reading, pondering about life and people. I felt a bit like a spectator in the cinema (as I shy away from speaking French which shovels me into background - cinema seat) with everyone around perfectly playing their roles, all those people I came across today - the runners, the Google intern, the Kickstarter entrepreneur, the others, who ate my cheese :), the tourists in Notre Dame, the cello player on the bridge (she looked marvelous in a white dress, I am not sure if that instrument she was playing was cello at all (or rather I am sure it wasn't), just had to call it something)...
I am finishing my last batch of cherries from the market earlier today - I still haven't figured out why some are twice as expensive as others - they taste the same as I've tried both.  My skin is itching from all that unfamiliar sun and I am happy I wouldn't be befriending a toilet (as I tend to do in a warmer climates) after spending the whole day out. Cheers to that!

Paris, je t'aime

It's been ages since I've posted here, I almost forgot how it works... But I am back for a while to document my life in Paris.
It's my first day and I absolutely love it! My window is wide open letting in the night air and some street noise - car sound and people's voices intertwined...
'I have to make it to the market!' that's the thought that kept running through my brain while I was making uncountable circles around the park. I pushed myself out this morning from the comfort of my lair into the Martin Luther King's park, which is just across from the building I now reside, for a dutiful exercise. I am training for a marathon, and, to be honest I have too few weeks to be lazy, but I still am once in a while, so today I wasn't... There were a few runners already there, the park was nice and thoughtfully planted - the trees would give a needed shadow for a sunny hot morning. I run listening to an audiobook, but more often than not my attention was with the people in the park - ladies lazily sunbathing and smoking slim cigarets, families settling under trees for a picnic, little children running, laughing the way it makes you laugh too, couples playing ping pong, skateboarders doing their tricks...
Circles later, new runners came in, a few left... I kept my drill for a while, but then I had to make it to the market, so I left too. A quick shower and I am back on the streets... The market is just around the corner, but it's covered, so I would have missed it if it wasn't for the warm smell of something baked. I entered to the view of stalls full of vegetables and fruit, nuts and sweets, cheese and olives - full of wonderful odor and color. That's the experience I was craving for. I did my shopping and went back to taste my purchases over a briskly made lunch. Next on the schedule was to passively socialize with a book I've started on advice of my sister. It kept me up all night and I was determined to finish it today in a cafe or a park. I chose a park - Parc Monceau - as a fellow couch surfer was offering his company for a shared reading experience. I didn't meet the guy, but I've made it to the park and made wonderful discoveries on the way - boulangerie, patisserie, a lot of nice little restaurants (I hope I remembered the streets so I can trace my way back and actually dine there at some point), delis, bookstores, cheese and wine stores, all casually planted in the vicinity of my hose... It would take me about a month to explore all those properly...
Le Parc Monceau happened to be a beautiful oasis full of trees, flowers, a lake and plenty of green to lay about. It was packed with people, so I got my share of socializing just by being around. I did some people watching laying on a picnic blanket under a tree, but I was mostly immersed in the book I brought with... I had to pull down my sunglasses a few times when my eyes were tearing over unfair life situations the characters were going through and I had push myself back home a few hours later.
My training wasn't finished for the day, so I took another running session when the evening brought some cool to the air.
A quick dinner by the open into Paris window, another reading session and voila the day is over...

A story of two umbrellas

‘No credit cards’ a sales woman told me at the ticket counter. I just landed in Tokyo international airport and was looking for ways to get to where I was staying that evening. I was just about to buy a train ticket to Asakusa when my Visa got turned down. This is an experience you’d have a lot in Japan – just cash, please. My phone was showing no signal; “Chinese sim card” I thought, let’s change back into Vodafone, but same situation… They do not sell sim cards separately, only with phones, but you can rent them, moderate daily fee applies. Things are different here… I guess I will go without phone.

It was raining when I walked around Asakusa that evening. I was looking for place to stay for a bit with my laptop and hopefully wi-fi before I have some food somewhere else. I got an umbrella in a supermarket – see-through, very practical and cool looking (for me at least, everyone has the same here, so it is probably just a part of a scenery for the rest). “Starbucks! I’ll go there”. Got a coffee and opened my laptop… No wi-fi, no charging electrical outlets (they use US outlets anyway). Someone pointed to a restaurant – “good dinner”, so I went there. That night I comfortably slept in the capsule hotel.

A few days later I took my umbrella for a walk, it was raining since morning, felt quite cold and I was not sure I want to leave the cozy warmth of the place I stayed at ( I was Couch Surfing after capsule hotel and was staying close to Shinjuku area). “I have to go”- I thought, as I brought a tripod all the way from Shanghai here (initially from Reykjavik); “I have to use it, at least once”. The idea was to shoot at the Shibuya cross; it could be nice when it rains with all those people carrying cool umbrellas. So I went, taking mine with me. Regardless of the rain there were plenty of people making their way through the white lines and through the crowd. Starbucks just next to it; or above it even – perfect! I went in, got some coffee and found the best spot ever. The seat was next to the window, overlooking the cross and next to it there was a space for my friend tripod, behind the column - it would not disturb anyone. I spent some time carefully setting the timer and was just about to start shooting when a light tap on the shoulder distracted me. Polite smile and “No photos here” came from a waitress. “Why not? I am not taking pictures of Starbucks – I care about the cross!!!” She lead me to the sign that said “No pictures or videos allowed”. That was not an explanation for me. I dragged my tripod all the way from Iceland to take these pictures after all. I did not even want their coffee… Well, I had to look for another place; I undid the setup, took my umbrella and walked out into the rain…

It kept raining through the late afternoon, through my visit to Rappongi Hills (they had Tokyo Film Festival at a time), through my failed plans to have a nice dinner in a company of a couple that travelled around the world… Something happened then, - I blame the rain. I found myself crying in the middle of a restaurant in front of people I just met. Without any particular reason, but with all the reasons at the same time… Misunderstanding, culture differences, being alone with no real friends to give a hand in a crisis, no working phone to call someone and complain (about what?) and a credit card not working at ATM when only cash is accepted in the restaurant we went to and I just ran out of cash... What should I do? No real offer came my way, so I left feeling embarrassed and not believing that this is happening for real. What if ATMs don’t accept Icelandic cards? I was told I have to have some special sign on my VISA so it works in Japan, I was told my VISA is not international enough J; I was told I don’t have money (well, I don’t in fact, but I have yet to reach my VISA limit and that could pay one dinner). I felt like I was put on a spot and needed to prove financial stability. I felt like the whole Japanese world including ATMs, “No picture” sign, rain and even newly made friends just turned against me. Hiding my red eyes under transparent umbrella I made my way through streets in Shinjuku, in the skyscraper area where Scarlett Johanssen did not feel that good either in the ‘Lost in Translation’ movie. I walked home, on the way got into 7/11 and tried my card at the ATM there, I needed to get some dinner after all… It worked perfectly fine, unlike that place that I was taken to half an hour before. All the tears for nothing… I left for Kyoto the next morning, leaving my umbrella behind.

I forgot about this incident pretty fast and was enjoying myself on the streets of Kyoto. The city was easier to understand and I made a smart move stopping by Tourist Information desk and getting tons of maps and advices of what to see. I also booked tickets for a Geisha dance show and got the bus passes for the next three days (lost one right away). It was warm (er) and life felt good again. Temples, shrines, small covered market streets, bicycles, holding hands couples, canals, geishas, plastic food carefully arranged in the window instead of the menu, helpful people, people that spoke English… Kyoto. I loved it there. I was Couch Surfing again and stayed in an old Japanese style house with many rooms and sliding doors, rice paper letting in the sunlight in the morning and futon on the floor, talks into the night with people I just met, sharing food, tea, inhaling the smoke when they smoked indoors, playing with two cats that hated each other, one kept appearing in my room (I did not figure out how) in the middle of the night and crawling under my blanket; staying up until 5 am for the music performance my host gave and making it back home on a bike after plum wine (loved it) and rice wine (terrible taste) – all good memories. Even the rain that came one of the days felt friendlier, warmer here. And that’s when I got my second umbrella. It was same transparent with black spine, but felt nicer with a better handle. “I will take it back to Iceland”, I thought even though I did not know what to do with it there. Well, that did not happened as I left it on a train the next morning… I loved it for one day. I was passing Osaka on the way to Koya-san - a mountain with headquarters of Japanese Buddhism (Shingon branch). It was a nice stroll from one train station (this was the train that took my umbrella away, I hope it ended up in good hands) to another (took me probably 4 hours), just enough to observe the city life, architecture, people, appreciate it’s modern looks and lack of history – it was completely bombed and rebuild after the WWII.

A rather slow train took me to Hashimoto later that day, a station from where I get on another train that goes to the foot of Koya-san. I read all the way, sometimes observing people. Quite, disciplined, tidy… A train from Hashimoto was an experience of its own. Zigzagging through the hills, surrounded by trees that felt as tall as haven. Me and just one other person in the whole wagon; dropping sun and chilling air. It got completely dark and cold when I was finally up. I still had to get on a cable car and after 5 minutes was on top of the mountain that I hoped to find some answers from. I slept in a temple that night. Dinner was plentiful and it was served in a separate room just for me. I enjoyed every bit of it, seating on the cushion right on the floor surrounded by 13 dishes (they are small J). Before retiring for the night I asked if it would be possible to have my head shaved the way the monks had it there. I also showed written in advance words that asked the same question. Not right away, but I got an ‘appointment’.

It was not hard to wake up for the morning prayer ceremony the next day as my neighbors were not hiding their excitement much. I got up, washed and dressed and waited to be picked up. It was 6:10am and the sun was still down. The breakfast followed at 7 and then I was left to myself. I used the time to read, think, write, read again and went exploring the place around 10. It was warmer outside (my 8- degrees-Celsius room took me back a few times to Iceland where you can have it as warm as you want whenever you want; heat was luxury here and only your feet were warm if you placed them under the table that had heating system working on electricity). There is a famous cemetery that is an eternal home to many outstanding Buddhist monks; it is huge and really beautiful. As it is placed in a forest, with autumn colors starting to show it did not feel all that gloomy at all and I enjoyed observing the sculptures, Buddhas, shrines. It took well over two hours to complete this walk. I was ready for some hot tea.

Back in the temple, reading and writing again with my feet under the table, refilling one cup after another I contemplated the life these monks lead, simple, helpful, with dignity. Later I walked to the town center, through the shops and other temples that also offered lodging, through tourists and locals, through crazy for this tiny place traffic. After visiting the Shingon school headquarters ( a huge temple with the biggest stone garden in Japan and maybe in the world) I stopped by very inviting café. It looked nice inside and the food was so beautifully arranged on my plate (two small pieces of cake with drops of cherry jam and rose petals) that it felt ok to be charged twice as much as usual. The host was talkative and shared the story of her life, business and ended up showing me her kimonos. It was a nice addition to my silent, otherwise, day. I was just in time for dinner and my hair was cut shortly afterward in the same room. I still found some pieces of it on the tatami floor the next morning when having my departure breakfast. I was done here, I was going to Nara.

Nara was long to get to from Koya-san, but very romantic and pleasant place. It is full with deer that just walk the streets and the park, approach people, scare away the toddlers and beg for food with their huge silent eyes. My staying there was brief; it gets dark around 5 and it is hard to enjoy the park – that is the biggest attraction of the town and the temples – after the sunset. When arrived, I had to change into lighter clothes as it was much warmer here, but I still kept a hat on as it felt rather cold without hair. Temples, pagodas, dears, small shops - I will come here again, I promised, hopefully not alone anymore. I ate well-deserved box of something (?) was not sure what it was, but tasted good and a walk back to the station. I went back to Kyoto that night, back to the friends that did not believe my looks, back to the cats and the futon. The next day was full of trust in my unconsciousness. I let it lead me to the places that could make the best experience ever leaving the Lonely Planet behind. And it was best experience ever, as simple as that. Path of philosophy, walk along canals, municipal zoo, food in a hidden place, where I was the only customer and probably the first foreigner ever – good , hot and cheap; geisha dance and tea ceremony later, Ponto-cho on the way to the bus stop. Bye Kyoto, you were nice to visit…

I got back to my first umbrella that evening, back to Shinjuku. And Tokyo still had one day to make it up for me, for all the distress all the feeling lost and feeling small... And it did, with the sightseeing on the 45^th floor in the municipal government building, with business area skyscrapers, with Shinjuku park, with a few bao-zi (I think I ate meat then) with Photography museum in Ebisu, with nice bento dinner and some shopping in Shibuya late evening. Tokyo… I loved it that day, I loved it at the end… Two days of Design Fiesta followed, days when we (me and my friendly host) had to show creativity and resourcefulness so all works out well. And it did! And I left Tokyo late afternoon right from the Big Sight exhibition center. I was not flying Business class back and I did not have neighbors I wanted to chat with, instead I finished a book by Haruki Murakami – a book about running – the only sport I enjoy, by the writer that introduced me to Japan many years ago.

I took my umbrella with me, on a bus and through the security and immigration (immigrating umbrella). It had a chance to travel with me to 3 other countries before ending up in Iceland, but it did not, as I left it hanging on the luggage cart when catching the last bus from Pudong airport in Shanghai. I hope this one ended up in good hands as well.

In Kyoto

About three days ago I arrived to Kyoto. The train was fast, so I only managed to briefly check Lonely Planet suggestions for places to visit (and to stay in case my couchsurfing arrangements would not work). It was sunny and rather warm after cold and rainy Tokyo... a pleasant change. I left my luggage at the locker and headed in search for some food, following couple of maps I got from the tourist information desk. I found my lunch place across the temple that happened to be the biggest wooden structure in the world. I crossed the street, deeped my hands in the sacred water running from the mouth of a dragon and this way started my exploration of an old city that once used to be the capital of Japan.
Kyoto is easier to navigate in, the bus system is well developed and takes you everywhere; besides there is metro. But one of the best ways of going around the city is probably a bike, it costs as much as a daily bus pass, but allows you to get to places faster (if you know the way - I personally never do). Kyoto is full of temples and they are nicely sold to you in Lonely Planet or in the Tourist office. So you go, but after second or third (if you are slow) you realize that it is not all that there is in Kyoto and beautiful but limited and overcrowded paths inside could be skiped without much damage to your experience. You`d probably still want to see some just to form your opinion and leave the rest to the tourist crowds.
Walking is fun too if you avoid big roads; old houses in this very japanese stile you`ve seen in the movies and thought it was part of history rather than everyday life (I live in one currently and enjoy waking up with sun rays playing on the rice paper of the sliding walls) next to the new ones, small specialized shops, covered markets, food stalls, river side full with people on Sunday morning, parks with picnicking people and shrines that you walk through on the way somewhere. It feels rather slow and very peaceful regardless of tons of tuirists coming from all the directions and not only with foreign passports. It feels wise, like and old buddhist monk; it feels very traditional with geisha and maiko still mastering their skill as they did hundreds of years ago. And it feels like a place to share with someone...

Tokyo, first impressions

Already three days I feel like I am from Mars, or maybe from Venus (as John Gray reserved Mars for men). I don't speak the language and I am completely excluded from the whirlpool of everyday life. I am not even noticed like in Shanghai, where foreigners often mean potential good business. I feel like I am invisible and have an advantage to watch, I am a fly with a camera. People are busy here, they know where they are going and they don't bother with the rest. Or maybe it just feels like it, as I most often don't. I mean it literally, very often I find myself some place that I can't locate on the map. As the street names rarely have English script and maps don't have pictures of the places... If I would be looking for something specific, I would probably get worried, but I am just wondering about.


Today it was Shinjuku, just one district or ward (ku they call it in Japanese), but took the whole day (well, this one district accommodates as many people as the whole country me and some of you are currently residents of). Well, discount for some time in Starbucks - hiding from the rain and boosting up energy (local coffee shops are often full of cigarette smoke, as smoking inside is allowed; strange as smoking outside is not and there are places designated specially for smoking. I'd walk in and, while queuing up, feel dizzy and rush out for some air... and go and find Starbucks. I don't even like their coffee, but it is a place I can be at). In many places, Starbucks attracts the young and the 'wanna be cool' people. In Tokyo you can find all kind of people there, as many young as old; sometimes families stop by, and of course foreigners.

Shinjuku is great for shopping; my favorite stores are there, Zara, United Colors of Benetton, H&M, even BoConcept...


It is nice to just walk around, especially closer to the evening, when the streets light up and it seems the whole country should work just to keep this ku's screens and banners on and blinking.


I checked out the bookstore (7 floors! - stores rent or own houses and those houses are generally high, but rather narrow. So lots of stores stretch up vertically rather than horizontally . Same with the restaurants. Imagine 4-floors McDonald's). Books in Japan are smaller - shorter in length, so they appear cuter. Also they are printed and read from right to left; so for us it'd feel as if we are reading a book from the end (I do it sometimes). The characters could be arranged either vertically (more often) or horizontally (in this case the books look like ours, left to right print). Same applies to magazines.


On the way back I hit the traffic. Shunjuku is always crowded, but this time (around 7pm) they barely could fit on the platform. Some needed to stop on the stairs and wait until the train picks up the spilling over crowd. The train and metro systems are still a puzzle to me. There are a few points where you use your card even before you take a train (as there are different operates - train, metro, private lines), sometimes it feels I pay just to be walking underground. I get home by chance as I have no idea what the address is, neither would I care as the streets are not identifiable. I often follow the crowds, or just walk where the lights show green or where it looks nicer. It works somehow, so far...

Btw, I could not resist walking into Shinjuku passage, which is a playing parlor. Hundreds of machines are arranged in multiple rows where chain smoking males (and couple of females) stare at the screens and lazily push buttons. This is gaming Japanese style.

Zhouzhuang

Shanghai to Tokyo

It is probably time I wrote a continuation to my story. I am waiting for the flight to take off as half an hour delay has been announced, so no time can be better. I haven’t been too frequent in my posts recently, well not my fault. Chinese government banned 25% of the foreign websites and Blogspot (along with Facebook) are in the list. It did not occur to me earlier just to put it down in writing or type it in Word document so I can catch minor detail of what’s happening outside and inside me. So here it is in short, as it was and is:

I am on a flight from Shanghai to Tokyo, flying business class (second time in my life). Did not really plan it (either time), as I am rather short on cash and don’t know what my paycheck will be like and if there will be any at all, so I am up for saving…. In fact, pursuing this idea of saving in mind I happen to be here. It’s a funny story, but I wander if I should share actually. It kind of describes me wrong. I am not like that, at least most of the time. Hopefully I secured my future enjoyability by stating that, so, here is the story.

My adventure was rushed. I was told that I can leave about 4 weeks before I left Iceland. My passport was still on the way and I could not apply for visas yet. And I had to get 3 of them. Being Russian, it is not as easy as one (Icelandic human) might think. Takes time, lots of paper (coming from various places with various things written on it about me) and proper pictures. They like to keep your passport for a few days as well. It is not really needed, I’d think, as it takes seconds (from experience in Mexican embassy) to place the visa stamp in your passport. Well, they want people to contribute to economy I guess, so they keep them nervous and worried about the 50% chance of not getting visa and walk to the drugstore to get something calming. Well, I don’t know what calms people and I contribute to economy the least in that way. Anyway, before I loose myself in the forest of unconnected thoughts, back to the story.

As I was 50% sure that I will get all the visas needed, I was booking my flights only for 50%. In a way I was not really booking them, but just looking them up and keeping in mind the dates, the prices and the airlines. After I’d get a visa, I’d go to the airlines website and locate the flight I was intended to buy and would book it. With a 30% change in price. At least. At some point I realized that I am overdoing my budget, but 30% at least and kind of stopped caring. I stopped booking my flights. I thought I could be flexible now, as money was not a question (I did not have 30% more anyway). I’d arrive to a country, I thought, and would get a flight to go to the next destination. That should work and sometimes some people get last minutes deals. I could be that ‘some people’, could I? Ever? Well, that’s what I thought when I found a flight for 80 dollars. A flight leaving from Shanghai going to Tokyo. A flight that I had to book anyway. And here it was, colored in pink, screaming of a good deal, saving my budget and more or less fitting the dates. One thing, my stay in Japan according to the ticket was supposed to last 16 days (they had some special deal on certain dates). Which is fine. But I have 15 days visa. Hm? Could one day be a problem, I thought. For 80 dollars? Of course not. I tried booking it. Somehow I could not finish the booking process though using my card, as Iceland was not included in the country menu when you proceed to payment. Minor detail - the payer had to be the traveler - that was clearly stated. Some rules are less important and this one was really unnecessary from my perspective... To make the story short I booked the ticket with a credit card belonging to my brother in law, only to discover the next day that I mixed up the currencies and Japanese yen that I was so excited the previous day about turned out to be Chinese yuan :( (the difference of about 10 times). All the hustle for nothing, as moderately priced ticket would cost even slightly less than mine. Besides I had that one extra day to worry about...

Well, that's how I ended up sitting in the business class next to people that probably had more cash in their pockets than I have on my bank account. Too bad the flight lasted only 2 hours... the service was great for everyone, regardless of the chance that brought you there.

Asakusa

Asakusa... Sounds so beautiful when pronounced by Japanese... That's where I am staying tonight. It's not in the center of Tokyo (there is no a real center), but to get even here from Narita airport took an hour by train.

The district is very beautiful, lively, many places to eat (lots of deep fried shrimps and vegetables - tempura), street markets and not that many foreigners around. I spotted two Starbuckses, plan to have coffee there tomorrow morning. No internet though. No place can compete with Reykjavik in it.

I am staying in a capsule hotel tonight, wanted to try that experience while I am here. Capsule hotels are generally a male lodging, so when I arrived the women floor was completely empty.

For us, relatively westerners, it might seem to be an exotic experience; for them there is nothing exciting about it, it is one of the cheapest ways to stay. That's about it. My hotel is just next to the metro, very convenient and it could have had a nice view over the river if the rooms had windows. Normally they don't - there are 2 levels of shelves on both sides of the room with a narrow corridor in between. I thought you could close a door on your shelf-cabin, but it is a bamboo curtain that you normally put down for some privacy, but nothing you can lock. There are plenty of other lockers though.

When I just came (I did not reserve a... shelf btw, as I knew it was not that popular among women) I was asked to take my shoes off and place them in a small locker; I got slippers instead (frog-green and kind of nice). I was given a key for another locker, where a towel and a pajama was waiting for me. And then I had to put my luggage in the third locker, that I can open only when I leave if I do not want to pay every time I open it. Actually the shelf itself reminds a locker in a way, just you can't lock it.

On the second floor there is huge ballroom. They used it for dinner tonight, lots of small tables and pillows arranged by the perimeter of the room. Some huge group was having dinner. Then there is a common room (very small) with a computer that does not work and a TV. There is a Japanese old man in his pajamas watching football at the moment. He also has slippers like mine. I would not be surprised if the sizes are the same, both for slippers and pajamas... He was so kind as to let me use his adapter, as the electricity plug is not the same. It resembles US power outlet and I might even have that in my suitcase, but remember, it is locked and I don't want to waste money.

About the money, it is not as expensive as I expected. At least compared to Iceland. Even Starbucks is affordable.

It was raining when I went for a walk, so the guy at the counter offered me an umbrella. That was nice as I never carry one since I moved to Iceland. The streets were busy with people, same umbrellas like mine. I noticed that people were bumping onto me, which they did as they were walking on the other side of the street. I checked the road and learned that Japan has left side traffic. I might have known it before, but today I learned it again. Taxis are very similar to the ones in Shanghai. They have red and green signs on the window depending on if it is taken. The car models are also similar.

People are generally very helpful. Few of those that I talked to, spoke any English, but somehow it is enough to flash hand signs, they'd flash them back and you have the information needed. I was recommended a restaurant by an old couple like that, we might have played a nice pantomime together.

I am going to put on my green pajamas and check out the sleeping locker.
What a marvelous contrast - business class flight and a capsule hotel :).

Back in Russia

Some days can be really long and eventful and today was one of those days. It started at 5:30 in the morning when I woke up from a weird dream just before the alarm went off. I am a master of weird dreams; it almost feels like I watch an intricate movie every night when I go to sleep. I could be a prolific writer if I ever put them down on paper. If...

Anyway, it's not every morning that alarm is set for 5:30 in our house. I was starting my journey today and I had a morning flight, so 5:30 felt like a necessary and least painful time to wake up. After running up and down for couple forgotten things we took off. Airport life is rather simple and structured in Iceland, so am not in favor of the idea of arriving much ahead of flight time. Actually I do not like it anywhere. I like flying, but airports are not on the top of my list of places to hang out at. But this time, I guess, objectively, I got too relaxed; I forgot to check my flight time! I just knew it was sometime after 7 and I assumed it was at 7:45 as that sounded like a good time for a flight. Doesn't it to you? My guess was off by 25 minutes, backwards! It means a lot when you arrive with a comfortably short half an hour to the necessary stuff so you end up on a plane and get to the fun part of traveling. It magically worked for me though and hitting the airport 20 minutes before the departure I still managed to be one of the first passengers to board the plane.

The flight was uneventful. I was too sleepy to care for a conversation. So I slept through the trip, misbehaved child on the seat behind and a chance to order food. I woke up with a fresh idea to skip stopover in Frankfurt - that was a plan originally. The clouds outside of the plane window were not promising a single sun ray and I overheard that the Frankfurt book fare - the biggest in the world - was already over. What else is there to do in Frankfurt? For 10 hours? Honestly?

I picked my luggage at a quarter past one and headed straight to the Aeroflot check-in desk. I managed to change my tickets to the flight that was leaving in 40 minutes - plenty of time compared to my morning flying experience.

To make it short, I made it. It's almost not worth mentioning that I was the last passenger to board and the crew new me by name and a seat number by then, as I happen to be holding the departure. The thing is they arranged for a second security control, exclusive for flights to Russia. So made my duty and stayed in line to be double checked for half an hour... until the boarding crew member, the same that changed my ticket, came running straight to me with crazy eyes. I had to go through the full control regardless of the waiting flight. The last thing I heard when running through the corridor - "Never again, will I change a flight for you!" Was it my fault? Honestly? They create stupid rules on stupid assumptions that Russians are more cunning on hiding their drags and WMDs that we all carry of course, just in case and then they blame you for following the rules and not protesting to be put through security twice.

I walked through 19 rows of judgmental eyes before I had a chance to dive into my seat next to a Chinese man who did not seem to mind even if he had a flight to Shanghai to catch that evening. We chatted through the trip and I learned that the textbooks about Chinese culture are true in those part where they say that personal income is a common topic for discussion.

All of a sudden we were landing into a complete dark. 4 hours time difference made me miss a good part of a day and offered late evening right after early afternoon.

My luggage happen to stay behind in Frankfurt, so I did not have to worry about carrying two suitcases through Moscow metro. I have this thing about escalators and luggage. Always get nervous when approaching one with a suitcase, not to say having two to take care of.

Moscow was dark and it was snowing a little. And it smelled like Moscow. And there were people in metro. And people spoke Russian. And it felt nice to be home.

It's been some time

Wow, it has definitely been long since I blogged last. Long enough to forget my password at least - just spent an hour figuring it out. It has been pretty busy and things were happening, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to quietly seat and write about them.


Summer was beautiful, couple of new countries explored, my family came for a visit - trip around the island and great time together followed. I run half marathon, killed my iPod, bought another one, went to New York, learned to love my cat and do a toe stand at yoga class. My visa was maxed up the whole time and now, when I am back to grand zero, I am going to India. And not directly to be exact, but through 4 other countries - Germany, Russia, China and Japan. How can one go to India through Japan? A valid question. A few flights will take me there. Eventually.

...and summer again

It's wonderful of course; finally you can be outside for longer than 5 minutes without getting blue, or you could wear those shoes you bought for warm season years ago and weared only couple of times, or you could plan swimming pool sessions, or maybe even walking tours, as a turist... because that's what you are if you are in Iceland and blog in English.


My summer started a few weeks ago, with the proper sun, sunburnes to be closer, sand, water and ice-cream. I had to leave the island to get into all that, to fly for many hours to reach a paradise - Mexican perl Puerto Vallarta. This post is not about it though, it is more of an expression of a surprise that another year has gone by... Somehow the realisation comes in summer for me, rather than at Christmas time together with all the thoughts and need for plans and changes.

Have you planned your summer?

Post-winter postscriptum

I am not sure if I like circles... Not that they are tricky to draw, which they are, and not that they are to angleless, which they are, but they end where they start... as any other shape then. But particularly circles. It feels I follow the circle way, I end where I start, thoughts and actions are quite repeating. What felt like a breakthrough is just one patch of that smooth line, which ends and gives space to something not worth living.
Circles, running trails, lakes, tires, eyes, oranges, CDs... so many circled items in my circle life...

Happy Women's Day everyone!

End of summer

It is the end of summer already, it feels it has just started with many hopes and expectations. Travelling, hiking, cycling and jogging, taking numerous pictures and having countless BBQ dinners - where is all that, I wonder...


What was the time spent on? Or was it invested smartly?
90 days - over 2000 hours... Can you imagine doing something useful half of that time, given people have to rest? 1000 deeds, a skill mastered, a topic explored (like history of India or China), a region travelled, what not. 1000 hours, that's about a 3 year lasting language course of hours squeezed just in one summer. That's about two master programs in International Business long of hours... About 100 books read for a slow reader... 100 books, have you read that much so far? Its about how long it would take to help 1000 friends/just people, given each needs an hour. Did you manage to help one single individual this summer?
1000 hours, and yet we do not have time... No time to pause and think where we are heading... No time to keep the relationships healthy... No time to keep our bodies healthy. What do we waste our time on?

What did I waste my time doing?
Well, it was just partially wasted. I still got 10% to be proud about... Or do I?
Well, I read about 10 books :), went to one golf game out of 10 I could of, took about 10 long runs, revised Chinese about 10 times, painted a few pictures, went to yoga classes, traveled to Russia and walked about fourth of Iceland, made new friends, watched some good movies... Some, but maybe not enough... Would I be different if I would do 100%? Would I be 10 times happier?

What I did a lot this summer though, is thinking, deeply and thoroughly, trying to understand my soul. One thing I got to realise - my mind is not a governer. I have to consider this other ruler, and she speaks in a language that is very implicit, not easy to understand. It requires time... since with time I am sure I can get through any language, even Icelandic be there a need... so does reading the language of my soul requires time. I was a patient reader, but I still can't get it.

So I am spanding my time in idleness might seem, but then in close and often one-sided communication with myself. I am obviously missing up on life that happens without, but then this is my choice to stay within.

Summer is almost over, it went unnoticed as it always does.... I wonder if it feels like that when you close your eyes for the last time... If life feels like a glimpse or like a loooong stare.

P.S.

to the 7 days in hunger...
Feeding two scarily fat fishes in a fishtank, just thought, maybe I should hold this experiment on them first....

Just summer

I am coming to the office with colorful hands lately - all in oil paints. Too bad there is almost nobody to notice...
Well, I was painting quite a bit over weekend left alone in Icelandic winds(btw, you are allowed to laugh at the painting - I was just practising new technique - using glue for drawing and paints just for the background).
It was quite a nice weather though, so I made the longest ride ever on a bike before sitting down with a brush, took me 3 hours to get home.






I was happy, my body wasn't, refused to actively move for the next two days. And my face is all freckled from a friendly sun.