The Return

AM

After a bumpy overnight flight between Kuala Lumpur and Osaka, the last thing I needed was was slow train home - but that's what I got. Despite paying extra for a seat on the extravagant Rapi:t B, the train crept along to Tengachaya station, probably because of work on the tracks. The train ride home perfectly illustrated the contrast between relaxed Malaysia and up-tight Japan. After only ten days in Malaysia, I'd already become re-accquainted with, multiculturalism, relaxed and expressive people, rich flavours and even richer smells. (right) The sterile uniformity of Kansai Airport and its people made my return to Japan almost depressing. This is probably true about the end of any holiday, but like my last return, Japan seemed stranger than ever. Almost to a person, people were asleep in their seats, their heads at a 48 degree angle (some probably drooling helplessly onto their shoulders). Everyone was wearing similar winter uniforms of dull colours, blacks, browns and greens, with a touch of fur to add dazzle. The most pungent odour I came across was a faint trace of laundry detergent mixed with cigarette and morning beer breath. I was underdressed and therefore cold and irritable. Between 8:00am and about 9:20am, I really hated Japan. Having to work at 2:00pm later in the day didn't help either.

PM

At 2:00pm, my foolish plans to maximise my holiday time came back to haunt me. As I walked in the door of the school, I could alreading feel my lids beginning to creep over my eyeballs. The next six hours were perfectly arranged, with every minute accounted for and every word I was to hear utterly predictible. By 3:30pm, I was listening to a standard account of a Japanese New Year's day, and, as my eyes glazed over for the second time that day, I imagined myself back in the Shangri-la Hotel looking out over the tropical city and the Petronas Towers. And in that hotel room, I was imagining myself being dragged through the tropical

waters of the Anadaman Sea behind a yacht - a nice refuge (above). As I walked home at about 8:50pm, it was below five degrees and I could detect the faint smell (left) of three dishes as I passed the massive houses near the station - sukiyaki (and its variations), grilled fish and Japanese curry. I wondered what a street might smell like  in a multicultural Japan?