And that’s the theme for now.
Today is the first day of Ramadan at the office for this year. I can’t remember how it was last year because I’ve blocked out a lot of my early days at the company out of embarrassment, so I didn’t know what to expect.
Couldn’t fast but I dread explaining to my co-workers and bosses why I couldn’t fast (you know, menstruation and such is not a good topic to break the ice in a whole new country, let alone a conservative one) so during lunch time I went out to Tokyo station next building. It’s literally next to my office, which is a fact I’m still struggling to grasp cos who would believe??
Daimaru is a department store in Tokyo station similar to Isetan in KLCC, so I spend majority of my lunch time there, browsing the makeup and bags and clothes section. Some days, I would go to level 8 and spend half an hour in Tokyu Hands.
Yesterday, I thought I could go to one of the levels’ jibaiki and buy a hot drink (preferably coffee), just sit on one of the benches they provide next to the jibaiki which is quite secluded, finish my drink and go back to the office acting like I’m fasting.
But lo and behold, apparently the universe has another plan for me.
Reached one of the jibaiki, but didn’t like the drinks selection. So went around some levels to look for a good one - only to be disappointed that some levels don’t even have a jibaiki. Saw some Porter bags so took some photos for husband (he didn’t like them). Proceeded to check out other levels, and somehow one is worse than the other - some didn’t even have hot drinks! - so went back to lower level, and found out that the jibaiki only accepts coins, not Suica. Or cards.
At this point I felt like giving up and going back to the office..and one the way back I figured I could just buy at family mart and drink at the benches in Daimaru. So quickly dropped by to buy the drink, paid using PayPay and went back inside Daimaru.
Apparently the coffee I bought is a “butter coffee” flavour so it has a bitter, salty taste. YUCK. Finished 3/4 of it, quickly found a bin and ran out of the Tokyo station back to office.
Conclusion: maybe explaining to my co-workers that during menstruation, women can’t fast is much more easier than having to experience this.
The other day, I stumbled upon this definition of expat and immigrant:
An expat is someone who lives outside their home country for a limited time, while an immigrant is someone who moves to a new country with the intention of settling there permanently.
And I found myself wondering, then what is the term for a person who is in the middle between living outside their home country for 30 years but wants to come home in their old age?
Such complex dilemma, I know. But it’s exactly what I’m feeling at the moment, how do I settle in the middle between expat and immigrant?
Happy new year 2025!
I always try to usher in the new year by making positive changes, new habits, etc. I got myself a new iPad mini, because the one I have is a 11” and too bulky for me to bring to office for notes, etc.
And when I saw a girl carrying her iPad mini in the train, lost in her reading on her iPad, I was sold - and got it!
Now, I can’t stop interacting with it. It’s like my new clone - everything I do or think, will involve having it in my hand. Of course I journal and have my planner in it. Writing in it feels so much smoother than my old 11” iPad.
(Also, I don’t have to berebut with my kids and husband anymore, which is a hugee plus)
But the downside is, everytime I open tiktok app in the iPad mini husband would give me a side eye and ask, “so you’re just using this iPad for read and study, huh?”
Way to killjoy.
The other day, our tenant sent us the latest photos of the house. I didn’t expect to see the photos, so I was really surprised.
What I was most surprised is, how nostalgic it felt in that moment to see the photos. He did take good care of the house, and almost everything is in tact, just like how we left it to him 2 years ago. He upgraded some furnitures, like sofa and dining table, but somehow it didn’t change anything. It still feels the same, like it is still our house.
It felt so nostalgic because I really can’t believe we used to live there until 2 years ago.
The house was where we grew up as a family. The boys were toddlers when we moved there, and I remember we had to search high and low for kindergartens because the area wasn’t fully developed yet. When it slowly developed, kindergartens started filling in the empty shoplots and shops started open, that was when Covid hit. We were left in our small bubble in lockdown, couldn’t go anywhere but the areas near our house, but somehow it felt like we had everything we needed - restaurants and shops in walking distance, and parks for the kids to let out steam. I didn’t really feel isolated because of this area we were living in, our old house. Neighbours would send some dishes during Ramadan and even when we celebrated Raya in lockdown, I didn't really feel lonely.
Now, after 2 years, we living in my favorite city feels like something that only happens in movies. But it’s my life.
Looking back now, while I will never go back to that place, I feel grateful for the experiences and lessons learnt. And I hope our tenant feels at home in that house that used to be our home.
Our home now (and I'm still pinching myself for it)
We might move again after this, but I really don’t want to because where else can you find a balcony view that can top this?
I’ve mentioned over and over how I’m going to update this space, but yet nothing happens. If this is a KPI at work I would’ve gotten fired by now..
So met some old friends last few weeks, one of those rare occasions when suddenly a friend dropped by Tokyo for a visit. God knows my social life outside my family is practically non-existent, so I always try to make time for these rare occasions, because it feels like God giving me these opportunities and say “you’re welcome!”
We had lunch at Rasa Malaysia Ginza, a Malaysian restaurant which has been the go-to place for Malaysians gatherings. I’ve never been there, but I think the char koey teow there is awesome, and you have to make a reservation because it’s always full.
Afterwards, walked along the streets of Ginza. Usually it was just me and husband and the kids strolling around Ginza so I couldn’t really take in the atmosphere cos I’d be busy running around the kids, but this time, no more baggage to lug around lol.
Ginza on weekends is such a delight because they closed off roads where people can take a walk at the main streets. We spent time there having coffee, even had some street photographers requesting to take photos of us haha (made me think are Muslims with hijab so rare in Japan?)
Ahhhh so happy!!!
Can’t believe I’m at this stage of life where meetups with friends become less common that I treasure so much.
Also, special thanks to Huda for making the time to meet, finally!! <3
Why I think Tokyo is for introverts:
I can go out of my house and hop on the train to go to the busiest part of Tokyo and back home without making a single conversation with anyone, and that’s normal.
You can guarantee to have a personal private time in a busy, packed train because everyone respects your personal space (taking calls in the train is prohibited, and you are frowned upon if you make noises in the train)
People don’t care how you dress. They won’t stop you in the street and ask you about your dressing (believe me, this happened)
They walk fast, so you won’t be annoyed with slow paces.
I can go on and on given how introvert I am and these are basically some few points why I like this city.
But most of all, I love the fact that I don’t have to make small talks and just live in my own bubble.
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