Before the Glenfiddich sets in...

outside of my apartment, there's one hell of a storm going on.

this is my first experience with a typhoon. apparently, september is typhoon season in japan. they have titled this particular storm "nabi" after the korean word for butterfly. she is my no means graceful. oddly enough, i was en route to work today when i noticed a small butterfly was hitching a ride on the train i was taking to work. i tried desperately to coax the small (albeit immensely beautiful) creature into the palm of my hand so that i could release it outside of the train car before a less compassionate passenger killed it, but it was wise enough to be wary of human contact and resisted my attempts. i had my digital camera with me but it never occurred to me to snap a picture of this timid and delicate insect. i was too caught up in plotting its escape.

half of my classes had been cancelled on account of the impending storm, but they sent me to work nonetheless to teach the classes that they could squeeze in before the typhoon was set to hit himeji. it didn't take a lot of arm-twisting for one of my coworkers to talk me into a celebratory "half-day" drink. after all, we were still getting paid for the classes we were supposed to be teaching by the time we got to the bar. but in the interest of customer safety, we had been set free on the town.

two interesting encounters with proprietors happened this evening. both of these gentlemen run bars in the entertainment district of himeji; one has just opened a sports bar and the other is trying to think of ways to attract more clientele to his hip-hop-style club. i was in a particularly generous mood and felt the overwhelming desire to contribute to their success. upon completion of this entry i will be researching new drink recipes for one man and attempt to unravel new means of advertising for the other. while this may seem like i am working within a conflict of interest, neither man has paid me any money and I would be equally happy to see one or both of them succeed. most of the party animals in himeji make a point of visiting osaka or sannomiya to have a good time, but all it will take is a reconstruction of the entertainment district to turn himeji into a happening place.

the wind whistles and whirrs and percolates under the mock shelter of my porch's cement awning. i gasp and sigh and yawn, all within the span of a few brief moments. the excitement generated by the natural turmoil is both fleeting and renewable. i am comforted by the safety of my apartment, and continuously grateful for the roof over my head. not all of us have been so lucky in the last few weeks, and we must hold the residents of new orleans in our hearts.

turmoil happens continuously; destruction and renewal are part of a natural process that is both irrefutable and unstoppable. but the victims are very real - their suffering great, their plight unexpected, and their homes destroyed. remember the people of iraq, the people of sri lanka and indonesia, the people of china and africa: the children of strife. we are but one people, continuously displaced. our geography reminds us of our differences, though feeble and trite that they are.

when we begin to see each other as one people, only then do the wars we wage wax meaningless and the dream of unity shine feasible.

i'm exhausted. be well. keep safe. listen to bob marley.