Sunday, February 25, 2007

Kyoto

It's been a while. I'm sorry. The feeling to write on the internet hasn't struck me since my last post. I'm writing now out of a need to jot down the things that have come to pass over the last month and a half, and out of obligation. Please forgive me if chronological order doesn't rank high in my list of priorities.

It was beautiful today in the late-afternoon. The canopy of clouds filtered the 5-o'clock sun onto this city between the hills, where To-ji's five-storied pagoda stood out against the mid-sized apartment complexes. I had just stepped out of Kyoto's Emergency Prevention center after a day of training, holding a newly printed emergency treatment license that smelled like rubbing alcohol; the only emergency medical course I could find that I was able to take before having to leave in 2 months.

My return ticket to Seatac is for June 1st. I leave Japan on April 28th. The problem of time is on my hands as it usually is, but I am planning on going to Darjeeling, hopefully for tea time. And maybe a quick jog to see Kanchenjunga up close.

Since the start of the semester in January, a few friends and I have been holding very basic cooking gatherings every week.
So far we've made okonomiyaki, yakisoba, pancakes, rice omelettes, tempura, tonkatsu, zenzai (for dessert of course), and for last week nikujaga and an indian take on tofu and spinach curry. おいしい〜

I'm taking a translation course that is taught by the KCJS Director, Prof. Henry Smith. We have translated parts of a short work by Sugimoto Hidetaro, and we'll be visiting his house on Friday, which is one of the most celebrated machiya in Kyoto. Prof. Smith invited the translator Michael Emmerich to speak with us two weeks ago. He gave a wonderful lecture touching on many aspects of translating. I especially liked his comment on the common saying that a translation can never convey the full meaning of the original so is ultimately a loss. Michael's view is that, in the target language, there is originally no work whatsoever, so translation is purely gain.

I'm preparing for my recital, which is scheduled for April 15th at a tiny temple on Nijo, just steps away from the Kamo river. If things go as planned my host-mother, who is a vocalist, will sing two works, I will play Franck's Sonata and Bach's Ciaccona, and then we will do a yet-to-be-determined duet. Maybe a bit too ambitious, but I'm looking forward to it.
Everyone is invited.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

You should talk to Lisa sometime about the meaning of a translation. Her thesis focused on a poet who translated someone else's work, and in so doing added their own meaning and interpretations to the new product.
Oh, and a jog up to Kanchenjunga? That's ridiculous, I am envious.