Posle japanskog dorucka na Nariti i oprostaja od edamama (mahune soje, obarene i posoljene, njujorska ljubav), sve sto je u realnom svetu ostalo od Tokija je miris grada koji mi je silno zapahnuo kad sam otvorila kofer. Kakav je to miris! Razmisljala sam i ne umem da ga opisem. I ne znam sta ga cini, mislila sam omeksivaci, deterdzenti, kucna hemija, pa biljke, drvece, cvece... Ne znam. I tamo sam ga bila svesna sve vreme, ali kakav je osecaj osetiti ga ovde... Neverovatno. Do danas je polako iscilio iz garderobe. Bas ne volim taj osecaj kada posmatras kako ti nesto cili i izmice iz domasaja...
Boze, koliko sam jet lagged...
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As the days go by I'm managing to create more and more sane sentences on the topic So? How was it? I've been saying total nonsence when we got back, and now it all starts to settle and filtrates, this huge amount of everything comes into this basic set of interestingnesses selectively adapted to the listener. And I'm always ready to answer some aditional questions.
After the Japanese breakfast at Narita Airport and my good buy to edamame, everything that is left of Tokyo in real life premises is the scent of the city that overwhelmed me when I opened the suitcase. And what a scent! I've been thinking how to describe it and... I've no idea. I don't know what makes it, I thought maybe detergents, softeners, flowers, trees in bloom... I simply don't know. I've been aware of it the whole time I was there, and guessed it was just a scent of a regular Japanese home. What an exiliration is to smell it here back home... Incredible! And until today it evaporated out of my clothes. I so dislike the sense of watching something slipping out, getting out of reach...
God I'm jet lagged...
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