These past weeks I have been waiting for a sign to get me to work, to write, and to move one. I stopped looking actively. What is there to look for in this hopeless, little city? The only interesting thing about this place is the food and I can’t be a glutton while hoping for change. I would trust the signs that come from a bird, a beetle, some random act or a burst of unexpected words coming from the unlikeliest person. I figured I mustn’t actively search for it anymore. That if some sign were to help that it would come to me. This time, it came from a text message.
It would have come via a call; this unknown number repeatedly attempted thrice. But answering from an unknown caller usually only means trouble or extra work, in my experience. I ignored it happily. The same number sent a message a few days later:
Good day please claim your parcel here at post office *** city in front of ***
[My Name] of [My Address]
SP 75
Bring ID< prepare exact amount of 112.00 for **** and look for Mr *** parcel section.
It could only have meant one thing: Z’s package arrived!
“Is there anything I can send you from here?” asked Z casually as she told me about her mom visiting Japan.
“What do you mean send?” said I, “Like send send? Like a thing?”
“lol yes a thing here from Tokyo,” she said.
😱😱🙀
Someone once said my love language is gift giving. An expensive trait, to be sure, but I do love the genuine surprise people make when they receive some trinket. But quite sincerely, I never wanted anything in return. I like the things surrounding me as a result of my own choices. Additionally, people don’t really give gifts in my country. It’s only a social-event requirement for many. At first, I requested for Mushishi merch but quickly changed my mind upon remembering what I truly wanted from Japan.
HACHIMAKI
Animé, and essentially the Japanese culture in which it is rooted, is and will forever be part of my life. Big or small it continues to impact my decisions and way of life. In my elementary days, I remember Nobita and most particularly Kuwabara in YuYu Hakusho (Alfred of Ghost Fighter in the Philippines) wear these bands on their foreheads. And they’d wear them only during their study sessions. I remember thinking, “I want those!”
There are already many explanations as to why these characters wear the Hachimaki. Mine is no different but I’ll just provide some philosophical and ritualistic touches.
POST OFFICE
Walking my way to our local post office, I felt ease. It had been aimless thoughts and wanderings for days. But this time, I was walking to collect a package. I had a purpose to fulfill, simple and true. The sun shone pleasantly and people minded their business. Uneventful and dare I say even carefree.
The government building was decrepit, with peeling paint, walls bombarded by weather and sweet sea wind, that no one in more than thirty years bothered to restore. But from my point of view, it felt suitable for this rustic city. While I was waiting for the clerk to retrieve the parcel, an odd sensation crept on my skin. I somehow felt like a foreigner judging the dilapidated building, as though this were not my hometown and the government of my imaginary country would never allow its public spaces to reach this state. They gave the parcel after half an hour of searching, despite the text message stating it was ready for collection and the fact that I was the only client there. This is such a slow town.
THE PARCEL
From Z, I received these lovely trinkets: the Hachimaki, some tea (Original Original Green Tea Powder and Hoji Roasted Green Tea with Black Sesame),the beautiful Japanese handkerchief/cloth she used to wrap the gifts and the most important gift of the bunch, a postcard with a hand-written letter. I was of course only expecting the headband, but the postcard became the most important item. It really hit the ball out of the park 😭❤️
JAN 28
Of all the beautiful trinkets in the package, I loved Z’s postcard the most. It’s beautiful to imagine: on the day of the 28th, a friend opened her table lamp, maybe placed the tip of the pen on her chin, focused on this piece of parchment and wrote on it with intent to convey her thoughts. I’d imagine that this isn’t her true penmanship, the somehow her handwriting is much less legible, but she placed great effort for me to read her words easily. There are no truths to this of course, but that’s how I imagined it.
This postcard is now taped in my current journal. I salvaged everything from the package itself, the receipts, the Japanese stamps and the JAPAN POST plastic, and the folded tea descriptions.
The Hachimaki “is worn as a symbol of effort or courage by the wearer, especially by those in the military, or simply to keep sweat off one’s face” but to me, I wear it as an instigator, as a signal that study time has started and that my thinking mode has activated.
The symbols that Z chose means Hissho or “Determination to Win” or “Be Sure of Victory.” That is how I shall shall force myself to think whenever a task is before me.
My depressive state has mostly gone. Thanks Z and your gift for symbolically closing this chapter.
Forever thank you to S, M, F, K, E, and all others who reached out during my small attack of depression. I’m seeking help as well.:)
Thank you for reading.
What a wonderful present to receive! It would make anyone feel like a king/queen for a day!