Where Does Holly Willoughby Get Her Extensions

The beauty that will outlast us

( Escrito para el Diario de Alcalá del dia 2 de diciembre, con motivo del aniversario del nombramiento de Alcalá de Henares como Ciudad Patrimonio de la Humanidad .)

Desde hace un mes me encuentro en Japón, invitado por la Universidad de Kobe para dirigir unos entremeses de Cervantes (a saber, La guarda cuidadosa, El juez de los divorcios y El viejo celoso). No quería, sin embargo, dejar de conmemorar el séptimo aniversario del nombramiento de Alcalá como Ciudad Patrimonio. Así que aquí me encuentro, a siete mil kilómetros de casa, ocho horas más tarde que todos ustedes, writing these lines from the delectable Ginjaku-ji Temple, in the eternal city of Kyoto. At this point in the film and you know that Kyoto was the city where he met the committee of Unesco on December 2 that he thought deserved Alcalá among the main cultural environments of our planet.

In these four weeks I have been lucky enough to go sightseeing, and if anything I have learned is that perhaps beauty is the engine that drives the world, but the sediment that remains after everything else. I mean that in our daily life is becoming increasingly strong widespread hatred, the bad feeling because yes, tension inescapable the mean stress that eats away at us, poor education, the struggle for struggle's sake yes or why not. But man can not ever feel tired of being alive, and his fleeting attempt to escape the dark current discovers something (each his own) that he inhabits, and he complements her resume. And so we come to the beauty, because what has characterized the human being throughout history (and talking about human beings with upper and militarized Hottentots not only breathe to the rhythm of war, which all have been in this blue sky is not always) has been the constant search for beauty, whether here in Kyoto, there Alcalá, or Rome, in Ecija, in Boston and Port Moresby. The concept of Beauty has changed over the centuries and places, of course, but Rubens had been startled by the works of Modigliani, Tomas Luis de Victoria with the symphonies of Mahler does not change anything. There is an issue that has to do with religions, cultures, nationalities, experiences or other esoteric trifles. I speak of that beauty, well capitalized, has been, is and will remain an innate human search: all cultures leave behind a mark that identifies a perhaps not so distant future, when all those who have died saw how it was raising that work. These tracks, almost always worthy of being remembered and preserved, represent the Heritage of Humanity, which as it indicates the Unesco, "is our legacy from the past, we live in today, and what we leave to future generations."

Now, the threat is such that we inflict absolute ugliness around us is urgent to fight with beauty. Because they do not always have time to visit a Gothic cathedral or to listen to Brahms or read Garcilaso. I wish we did, of course. But it is not so, once we get out of it shamelessly beautiful in ourselves. I mean the kind words, exquisite manners, the good times shared with our closest, try everyday to help others without the change in disqualification attempt to free one conversation, the horn off forever, smiling for no apparent reason, the good days, good afternoon, the good nights, how beautiful you this morning, lucky to have you by my side, he needs you something, let me help you please, because I appreciate how ... It's all part too, and how-to beauty. And we are all somehow, beautiful. Or so I believe. After all, what is love but the desire to be one with what we consider beautiful?.

Therefore, because there would be nobody without it, let's make a deal: let us try today, or at least today, give us the indescribable joy of being happy and make happy with Beauty, with each of us. Because it costs nothing and is worth much. Because when we are no longer here, she'll endorse us and let us be reminded. Because even our own, non-transferable Beauty is what we leave to future generations.

Happy Heritage Day. Happy Day of Beauty.

Glade Flameless Candles

The day I went

( Note: None of the photos that included today is mine but are taken from internet, because none of the places we are going to tell you allowed to take photos, as will understand later. )

Well that. That Sunday (sorry, but for some reason the blog does not allow me to put the exact dates of the days, which maybe the date shown is not correct, but stating that what happened on Sunday I will tell you 27) I have become Japanese. Because until now I have tourism, I have lived with English students, I bought food outlining rag language words. I even went to market in Kyoto, as you will remember. But today I made in two activities that I believe are very Japanese, and I've lived (almost) as a Japanese would live. Although the second more than the first.

all started in Osaka, a city of "only" eight and a half million people, whose main station (called simply "Osaka") is a swarm of pure madness and vertigo. The first time you get to Osaka two weeks ago, got no leave the station. It was impossible to sign and arrow pointing both contradictory and people in places all around potential. I had an attack of fear that I went back to ride the train to Kobe and I go to house, overwhelmed by the reality Japan.

The second time I promised myself I would get. And get two corners beyond the station, until I saw a huge shopping center (in this country the palbras "huge" usually means "very high" because there are hardly any free land to be "very extensive") that had to a Ferris wheel 30 meters or so. Between, say a turn, I turned to make poo right there and I went back again. Sorry, but you know some of my phobia of crowds that leave you walking. No I survive in Tokyo.

The third time was today. Wanted at all costs to see something of Japanese theater, they do not want to go home without enjoying there something I can not see. And of all possible types of Japanese theater, there are some that you can see here quite often: the Noh and Kyogen (the latter, as an appetizer, is a short comic piece that is sandwiched between acts the first), Kabuki (which displayed the typical samurai made up with an angry voice) and Bunraku (puppet theater with a tradition of centuries, like the other genres mentioned above). Now there is in the lineup Osaka Kabuki and Noh and Kyogen or so when I discovered that he had Bunraku available there that I've thrown. The problem was coming. But with patience and some have taken the circular funk (that here too there is, do not leave to think) and I appeared at the headquarters of the National Bunraku Theater of Japan. There is nothing, a national company (I mean the state) dedicated to puppetry. That can become different things, alas. But of course, is to be the puppet theater.

Bunraku, as I say, is a genus of four years ago in which each puppet (from a height of three quarters of a person) is handled at once by three people dressed in black and that most times have the whole head covered in black. To get the movements so elaborate puppets each manipulator studied about three years, and I can not imagine that an actor used Espanya preparing something for so long then you are not even see his face. Here, however, take into account the role you have the dolls, and they engaged in body and soul. While the puppets are moved by a stage-mouth as wide as the Theatre Royal, a man (the tayuh), as a chant, tells the story and provides the voice of all the characters while a musician is accompanied with a kind the zither called samisen, always with stories written centuries ago, because it is not often write new works. Counted so may not sound like much, but I assure you is an experience to have front about dolls live, speak, feel and suffer like everyone else (even more than a few, actually), with tabs that move and hands gripping things and take their clothes off themselves and cut their hair and fight with katanas to defend the besmirched honor of their ladies. representations lasts for about five hours, although I attended a "short" session of only an hour and forty minutes (ie, the first act), at a lower price. Bunraku included some photographs that you may know what I mean. There are everyday features at eleven in the morning and four in the afternoon. A national theater program features morning every day and the crowd goes ... I'll be dreaming?

left the theater with a smile of those with whom you could swallow your own ears. On the way home, and animated and the circular, made a stop over in Osaka for the Osaka Castle (ie Osaka-jo). The nearest Metro stop is to take a sack of little castle. When I arrived I realized that I longed to enter. Among which is a reconstruction of forty years ago and everyone tells me not worth it ... Well, I wanted to save a thousand pesetas, truth be told.

the afternoon was my baptism Japanese, and never better. Here is something very typical so-called "onsen", which are like a natural hot springs (Japan's volcanic soil, do not forget) that there are everywhere, with establishments that are open where you have a bath and so richly. Apparently they are quite well known internationally (I understand I have a fan of this blog called Fran's friend Helena, who asked him to tell me to go to an onsen. Well then, Fran, happy and I dedicate this experience) and the truth is that fame is at the height of reality. Even falls short. The most interesting is that these "onsen" are as used by people who tend to be places where business and affairs so close. In this case we were some of the theater because we needed to rest a little bit of stress ensayil.

as you enter the facility must remove their shoes, as between Japan. You pay the entry (does not reach three euros) and you take your towel and raisins to the lockers. The onsen are not mixed (with the exception of some that are for families), so we said goodbye to the girls, who went to onsen. Once we strip all the lockers altogether (not worth swimsuit is frowned upon) and we went to the bathroom area. As before getting into the pool you have to shower before going to the onsen have to wash. And there you have me, washing everything in a public restroom. The bathroom is spacious, with a sill so high and long as a sidewalk where people, when sitting, is in front of a shower faucets that reach the knees or so. spirals with a very cute you are, sitting on the sill like you're in the toilet (how nice pairing) and a Japanese naked on either side who knew nothing, spend fifteen minutes Washing you as thoroughly the entire body, including hair and the space between toes. You'll rinsing with water that collects in the bowl and so richly. The photos, though small, is illustrated to perfection. And after that, the onsen. I think we all know what are the hot springs, so I will not elaborate too much. The difference in the onsen with respect, for example, a resort is that the outdoor onsen. That is, at seven in the evening, the sky black and seven Japanese, Santi and I were in Porretta living in a "pool" bubbly almost boiling water while it rained in the face. The hot body and head cold. That sound right?

Joking aside, to let you know that the experience is more impressive than one can imagine. Because it is something between friends, with full confidence to be all naked talking around a bit, of the work, the moon, the girls that they would be on the other side of a wall, the food in Spain, as pronounce the "r", the sons of a bitch and fucking gachupines ... An onsen is enjoyed among family, among people nearby. It seems to return to the ancestors, when soldiers found a pool to cool off. Those who've seen "The Heifer" know what I mean. Before that you ask me, the famous Oriental myth is true sizes. In something we had to take advantage the Westerners against this ancient nation and refined. After the hour and a half bath, which flew by, we meet with the girls and had dinner together in the same place.

get home that night calm, become a more Japanese than in the morning going to the theater and evening bathe among colleagues. Upon reaching the room, my body just wanted to sleep. Was relaxed as I leave the pillow. I dreamed of a puppet stroked my hair and then he left, mounted on her dragon colors.

What Kind Of Hair Does Rihanna Have

Nara Japanese

Osaka, Kyoto and Nara are the three vertices of a geographic triangle that frames an infinite number of temples (Buddhist) and shrines (Shinto). Nara, moreover, was the capital of the country before it was Kyoto, ie around the year 710. I want to get away even more to Kyoto, but will be on Monday, as I have said that when but it is full on weekends (I can vouch for that after having survived in the bus). So I go to Nara, the main temples were declared a World Heritage Site on the same day that Alcala. Incidentally, both obtained this title in Kyoto, where they celebrated the annual reunion of Unesco. Here

train ride is a bit complicated: apart from being paid according to the destination, whatever the type of train you take (ie local, fast or superfast), that there are several companies train and metro. I have a voucher for a weekend with JR, who besides being the bad guy in Dallas is the national rail line in Japan. This bond does not include travel with the Shinkansen, which is the bullet train, but because to go to Kyoto (where ro'll have to do to go to Nara) is far more comfortable than normal, and given also the last Weekend were wrong and gave me ticket for the Shinkansen error, I will try again and see what happens. Upon arrival in Kyoto a guard stops me and tells me my pass is not valid and I have to pay. Making me the confused and mumbling a very unfortunate japospanglish story you have not ridden in any train, I'm in a hotel in Kyoto and I just want to go to Nara but I must have confused it passes through a door. With this maneuver so clumsy book release me 3500 yen and I ride the train to Nara, which if I pass it.

In principle it is necessary one day to see Nara, say in the tourist office. Check out the guide, look at the map given to me, thank you and I go up the street. A sign stating "Todai-ji, 2.8 km." I'm going to Todai-ji, but I swear to myself that I'm not going to take any bus, which confirm that I am in the right direction and go up the street. After five hundred meters, and after thinking that I missed, I see that the map is crap. Asked in a shop, I confirm that I am on the right track and find that map not everything is on the same scale. I mean I have embedded the streets as they have been able to then add some arrows that indicate "from here to here, 800 meters," "from here to here, 300 meters." Grace is that the arrow of the 300 is on a street that according to the map is longer than the 800. Patedefua as I go my way. First stop

. Five-storey pagoda. Kofukuji Temple. All right. It annoys me a bit to have lost the capacity to surprise at these wonders, really. Anyway. Two hundred yards beyond, the first deer, the most interesting monuments in Nara are in the same park that is surrounded by curious deer and greedy people who come thinking they will get something for eat. I walk. Two children are frightened deer after it got a cookie from the hand of one of them. One-a deer, not a child-me look. I stepped closer to him. Gets closer to me. I smell, I look into her eyes, nods his head that reminds me of our cat Dario and stroke her. When you understand that I have the empty hand away disappointed. The boy knows nothing. It goes.

As I am a thousand until I was waiting monument: Todaiji Temple, one of the most important Buddhist destinations in the world because of the Buddha housed inside. With 16 meters high, is the largest bronze statue ever made. The front door is huge. According to the religion Buddhist doors giving access to the precincts of the temples (ie, the whole temple and garden) represent the output of the bad spirits and welcome good. So the doors can be, as is this, a size that impresses.

Throughout my life I've been lucky tourist to witness unspeakable very many sites. As to what religious buildings are concerned, I can see that, generally, the immense size is an artistic motif. And although I do not know even the pyramids of Egypt or the temples of Cambodia and the wonder carved into the rock of Petra, if I remember quite enough gothic cathedrals and the Mosque of Cordoba and the pyramids of Mexico and the Orthodox churches in Bulgaria and to understand that this huge built with a different mentality, who undertook to raise this powerful and wanted to prove they knew, as did also those who built the buildings that I mentioned earlier. But either I am much mistaken, and these gentlemen here are very clear they were nothing compared to the genius of nature, which is more eternal than the best and worst of human creativity. From there arises no doubt that constant interaction between forest and temple with the garden as an essential intermediate and conciliatory man orders his taste for nature, which in turn is essential to know the man. An eternal circle. Nothing in these temples, Therefore, any intent to frighten, distress, restrain or subdue. Or at least I find it totally invaluable. And maybe it's a cultural thing or what, but my feeling on entering the Cathedral of Burgos, which is one of my favorite monuments, eye-is just the opposite. I do not want tergiverseis: from an artistic point of view everything is captivating as the best possible sunrises. I speak of human perspective, that is another story.

All this reflexon home with the impression that causes step by step approach to the temple to take shelter to Buddha. Hard to think that something big is almost dispensable, for more or less to be the case pretty true jewel. I spend a few minutes to observe the outside, convinced that the interior left me even more subdued, and not wasting the world as APRA fascinations.

At last came in, always with his head down looking for the best possible site for the first impression is, forgive the repetition, the more impressive. Once in place, then go up the head.

not define it better, is fascinating. In the literal sense of the word. I am attracted by the slanted eyes of the statue, by the huge hand that tries to point out that being alive is not always a misery. is great, yes, but not far away. People walk, take pictures, check coins, join hands and pray or seek or appreciate. I, for now, I'm facing you while your eyes bronze continue moving toward the horizon that lies beyond the door. Which I appreciate, of course, because if suddenly your eyes will rotate to give me a look would cause a stroke in the respected general. I always have the same records, but this has nothing to do. This is not to eat more custard in a minute or more feet dragging a truck with his teeth. That can be great genius. How great can be greatness.

Buddha, besides sitting on a lily pad open and bright, is flanked by two ladies to whom I have no taste, almost as high as, drawing between the three a serene symmetry, a strength that gives rise to my envy. It, however, do not fall into the trap to forget the building-based, columns, beams, bays ... all wood. As beautiful as transient. Not for nothing many Japanese buildings (not this one) are more or less contemporary reconstructions of others who were lost to fire, intentional or not. I walk around the temple, admire the Buddha while turning around and after about half an hour I'm going even with the fascination between the eyebrows.

Nearby is a shrine, which I head to the safety of the day today and I have covered, but said before that bothers me a little surprised to have lost capacity, it is true that this archipelago has more than enough for anyone boquiabrir . And what I rondare, dark.

Once arrived at the sanctuary Kasuga Taisha-certify "the preceding paragraph, because although I have a no knowledge about the differences and details of Shinto, nature knows no other cultures and is always there where you are allowed to grow. The deer, in addition, make the sanctuary a unique and unrepeatable (unless you have more deer Shinto in Japan, which is likely: not in vain for this religion deer are messengers of the gods). Volume

way back (OTRS 2.8 km, which must be added the distance from Todai-ji and Kasuga Taisha) and make a stop for lunch: the emotion is as food for the soul as the body's digestive, and the gods (which included the beauty and tenderness) could not be God without men that extol.

I take the train approached me Hoyu-ji, the temple considered initial pillar of Japanese culture. According to exit the station, a sign tells me that there is a distance of 2.2 km to the temple, and without Pharmaton Complex or anything similar in the belly I stand by my guns not to ride in bus. Ten kilometers I'm going to do today to leg and notice you.

Foot complain a little when I can get, and go to information desk to sit a bit and ask if they have some little map in English or similar. I serve two elderly gentlemen who tell me-in a very decent English, which are voluntary guidelines of the temple, and I if I want to teach me the temple free of charge. With me I face jug have been, as I repeat it: a tour of the temple free. I have to pay, that if the entrance to the temple ordinary. That is, the same input that would have to make if no one visits or anything. "Why not, say," let's go there, to see if they can explain where I have it set me to not appear to me both the temples and shrines. "

As I think about the little grace that would make certain that I know have free guides in Alcala, I will explain some interesting things. It is not long, however, until I realize that going to be the typical tour that I do not like me much less receive: comprehensive list of dates and names of characters that I can not even want to stay. To make matters worse, the camera decides to run out of batteries before entering the premises. That's why I've included some of the Internet (from now I'll have to do a few times as there are sites that are not allowed to take pictures, tomorrow I enterareis of what I mean), with the intention that you you an idea. For information about the temple, I recommend you go here:

http://whc.unesco.org/pg.cfm?cid=31&id_site=660

After two-hour visits a bit boring clear that nothing I did not know before I take leave of Horyu-ji with the uncertainty of not knowing if there would come to thrill if you go alone. I have no regrets, however. Apart from that it needed to lock a word with someone, I'd rather have found that travel so you have to go a little luggage. Which, of course, would be a good idea, as I have crushed the back.

"Curse:" I think, "I still have another two and a half kilometers to the station. And then almost two-hour trip home." But I'm strong. He said that today do not catch the bus and not lame. You ever seen.

though. Tomorrow I'll have to ask Sam as they say in Japanese "I would like a box of Pharmaton Complex, please."

Mens Hairdressing Essay

A day in Kobe City (I): Domestic Bliss

Kobe City (twinned with Barcelona, \u200b\u200bno less) I am very destroyed in 1995 because of a brutal earthquake that were caught off guard. That's why the city is so modern that creaks. The same applies to Osaka, almost completely demolished during the Second World War, although in this case the "modernez" rather than grinding, ojiplatiza (which is a verb that describes non-existent but wonderfully well what I mean.) However, north of Kobe Kitano is a neighborhood called that book in 1995 for being on top of a hill. Not that this is an ugly place, much less, but they told me that after what I've seen so far should not expect much. But curiosity got me, for I knew that Kitano is the European district of Kobe which include, inter alia, "the German house, "The Dutch house" ... And as in this blog every time I look over to Uncle Matt's traveler Fraguel, sharpen the iPod, started to point the conversation guide the Lonely and shoes fit me climber: next season, Kitano.

Upon arrival to the "European Quarter" (ten little minutes walk from Sannomiya) I run into "the house of Panama." "Bad start", I think, "if the next is the" house of Burundi "I turn around." Thanks to a very small map apañao I have provided in the tourist office I learned that the houses are of artistic interest in Kobe, who can not visit, and to keep the owners have become restaurants, bars ... , sites, in short, where people can enjoy of a leisure time in an "exotic." To understand, this is a shoddy imitation of the House.

A glance helps me to understand what the houses in England and France can offer-nothing-and I speak to the German house trying not to hinder a photoshoot of newlyweds. I was disappointed father and SIR to note that, contrary to what I had understood, the couple here wear the same colors as in the West. Never heard that you have come to that here they marry them black and white? Well, not masters: either a lie or are westernized over the account. Anyway, on to Kitano: I think that pretty pictures will come here in search that exotic wild and quiet that only "Ben's Tavern" can give them. That is, this is a shoddy imitation Cisneriana University.

It would have to be very optimistic and very positive to say without fear of embarrassment that "the German house" is closed. Although not shown in the photo, you must take in works, if this works, long time. I do not quite understand why it is called "German house." I, in my humble opinion of European mentality, I would call "shoddy imitation of the house from Psycho." In short, Kobena veran.



Cansadito costs so much I took a break in the "Square of the Bohemians", where a Japanese juggler past few more or less normalitos tricks. I mean I've seen much more positive. And I mean not only the circus acrobat in Beijing, of course. I think Laura and her colleagues do things better. But the guy is so enthusiastic Curran, to deny. You must be very funny, because people are quite smiling. I only managed to decipher two or three things loose, "three, two, one ..." and "Wait a minute." Were easy, so we're going to cheat.

Once parts and giving a vote of confidence over the "European Quarter" I am going to "the Dutch house, because I was never encouraged in the Netherlands and so maybe I soak a little of the culture of those dollars and give me cookies and tulips. On the way I meet "the Victorian house, a site really indescribable. Suffice it to see the photo for you can share with me the existential question of "who has the Victorian this behemoth out of standard cheesy b movies." But it seems that the owners are lined with weddings, even if not on here Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins.

Kitano denying I turn once a Dutch house, convinced that I have seen the worst. "That mine innocence," I say to get to the door of the Dutch house. I can not comment, it plain to see. I just tell the slopes looming under the umbrella of Heineken are a woman who is photographing the happy family (including the "typical" holandesita) after having taken the not inconsiderable figure of 2500 yen. The yen is a little higher than what was the peseta, say that would be ... wing about 3000.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I think no matter how bad the vision of Japan that we take in Spain, we do not reach these lofty heights. The next time it is the week of Japan in the English Court'll have no qualms about going.

That if: walks that I have not laughed. Not everything will be emotions in temples and shrines.

Before returning to Sannomiya, and since there is a sanctuary in Kitano, approached me a moment to take away the taste so unique that I have left. From the top I can enjoy a wonderful skyline of Kobe, and, above all, something that had only seen in photo: colorful garlands made with origami. It is an immense amount of paper birds to pass them a thread to connect them so that there is a gradient of color that leaves your mouth made pate de canard. Garlands, of course, can be as long as the patience of those who develop. I think I've commented on here that I have no intention of approaching or Hiroshima or Nagasaki, and cried enough with a poem of five verses of the eleventh century to try to digest the ravages of the, perhaps, more serious global slaughter is committed in a hurry and no one has been prosecuted for it. Well, that I have come to understood that in Hiroshima is a monument to peace in which was placed a weeping willow made entirely of natural size, with these bow-by children from schools in the same city. You should make your hair stand on end.

And as it is too late and I have to go to bed to take the day tomorrow, I leave for another day the second part of my day in Kobe. That if you promise something better. But do not you go I believe.

By the way, I send an important message to all: sorry for not responding personally to each one of you write me, either by mail or blog. I hope you do not mind. But do not let you do this, please. Although not answer, know that each of these messages your light my feet every morning to go forward.

I love you. I will not forget.

Potentiate Carisprodol

Kitano

On November 23 a holiday in Japan, because it celebrates something like "the day to give thanks for the job." So I have not had to work. A few days ago, also, Santi told me that his calligraphy teacher invited me to spend the afternoon at his home so he could know something that surely could not know as a tourist to use: the domestic life of a normal Japanese family. Before proceeding

need a clarification: neither this woman or her husband or anyone in your family knows me anything, I had seen the face until it appeared in the doorway of his home. I just knew I am a English professor who came to Japan to help some Japanese who, incidentally, not known. When they learned, thanks to Sam, that I really like sushi, they said "well then come and eat sushi and you can see as we do here." To make matters worse, they do not speak another language more than the Japanese, which the good was our translator Santi eight hours we were there.

We took a bus in the morning and arrived there at about two are not living in the same Kobe. When we arrived, the first thing I say is "Where has been your wife? In the hotel?", To which Sam says no, that Soraya did not come to Japan. The woman tells me what a shame, because they had prepared a surprise for her thought that you'd like. And they are very traditional and they like, on special occasions, dress well. With what I was shown into a room (decorated with the typical Japanese style, with tatami mats on the floor and paper screens) in which, on one wall, hung the two kimonos most wonderful I've ever seen my life. "I thought he would make a real illusion tested Japanese kimono and spend the evening with us dressed in kimono." As I said, are yours, those special days. The simple notion that, even without knowing, had provided such a deployment, I cherish a little butterfly that we have inside.

"But let's go inside", and entered the room, a beautiful house, where I have a husband, as a hobby, is dedicated to making Noh masks. "I'll show you some," he says, and after a while it comes with a mask like maravillosisima had never seen. Because I, for example, I worked commedia dell 'art and I know the leather masks, that by law end in the cheekbones, so that the mouth is free to make gestures. So he thought that the wooden masks, stiffer than leather and full face-would be more deadpan, but aseptic. And a club. I have before me an incredibly mask hand carved and painted by him. I like to give a finish to look like ancient ones, as though they have been used. And I'm ojiplatico, some would say that I was: this is a god kind and good-natured that occurs mainly in the new year. Asked "I can prove it?" And answer me go ahead, you are at home.

(I know the photos are not very good and not fully recognized the infinite variety of gestures that pass near or far. The lighting was not very good and I am a mediocre photographer. Finally, you can not have everything in life.)

note the mask, her eyes look empty that will be filled with mine in return for which she disposes of its features for a moment. Is a person. Their wrinkles, their thoughts, their chores, their whispers ... are before me. I have only to fit into my face and now this. With great respect, almost asking permission to own mask (he is a god old and here to both the gods and the elders have them in great esteem) the spin. Carefully observe the underside. She had not happened to me something. Why not wear a mask and rubber tie already. Absolutely. It is a gesture that was almost mystical, which for a moment you'll change your face, which is most proper, the most individual and most genuine person has to identify themselves to others. All those signs of identity will be erased from you and the people you see only you will know what the mask you want to know. In return, it is not enough, the mask would enjoy a life that does not always know what is becoming my body in her soul. It is, therefore, a treatment mask and actor. Y in Japan these deals can be closed in two seconds.

note, therefore, the underside. And finally comes a second I feel that there is no problem, I can move forward. Easy (yukkuri, they say here) install it on my terms, and check, and had no idea that fits perfectly. The hole in the nose, the cheeks ... Shoes serve my nose, my cheeks ...

never got, to prove in a shoe shop, a shoe that I feel so good the first time. Amazing.

I look in the mirror. And I'm not H. Not that I am, of course, since I am the character I'm embody, albeit in a very informal. But my body wants to do other things and try other positions.

Magic. The theater and its mysteries.

Santi I ask you try to express the emotion so deep that I feel with an experience like that, and her husband, a Westerner pleased with something you enjoy so much to them is their roots, out the door to return to few more hands. Go out and bring back more, and repeat the operation to bring the order of about 25. "All done by me," he says. "I have done more, but are not here but in the studio where I paint." And I want to jump, but it seems more cautious bow to the low table where they are beginning to contemplate each and every one. I bring books to know the infinite types of masks, and while I shattering the little knowledge I have about Italian masks (namely that they are leather to facilitate more flexible for travel by car from the comics, which often have animal features ...) a good marriage, I will indicate the characteristics of each. So I find that while in Italy there is the mask of the servant, the old one, the soldier, the doctor's ..., all with their little contextual variations, here each character has a story and determined that some mode is indicated in the mask. From there "the fisherman who died for being greedy falling overboard," the young woman who gets drunk for the first time, "the woman who hides a secret that intended to harm, "the noble warrior who has lost the battle" ...

And not who's more excited, if I face what I have before me or them, noble hosts who have achieved happiness the guest. I try and prove more masks, each one carefully observed. I can not think about what I like best. I think that impresses me most is "the outcast of the other" that is more brown than the others because it indicates that's not in people's houses, but always in the sun. I test (is this with which I see on the right) and look in the mirror I pity myself. I want to hug and comfort me. But it is not necessary . The mask and is happy to live and express what they wanted.


After about an hour and a half (d) masks the retired looking to the side (with much devotion, of course), and she lets us know that dinner is ready. "But I thought we were going to help you make sushi for so learn how to" say to Santi. And in this she appears with a source of Nori leaves into small pieces of sushi rice sources and hundreds of things to include in the rolls. To give you an idea about making as burritos (or are the fajitas?) In Mexican restaurants, you catch your algae, you put rice, I prepare what you want, wrap it, you get wet in soybean and inside. For lovers of this spicy wasabi, which is a cream made from horseradish. It is too much for me, really. I stay disfrutanto of ingredients did not think it could go well with the sishi, such as oak leaf or asparagus. "In the sushi it all, does not have to have some fixed rules." Deputy Photo source for you to know what I mean. About food, of course, since we were four and they thought we were going to be five to Soraya.

No wonder here not obese. And cholesterol, I guess. What foods healthier and more delicious, the mother of Buddha.

session sushiaca After the sumptuous, green tea (not a must) and coffee, all washed down with a fine conversation about cultural differences Japan and Spain, and as we are witnessing a "devaluation" of the societies in which they seem to only care about what it again while that tradition is something that is frowned upon and backward. "What are you going to tell me my, I think," I have not won the Lope de Vega theater in spite of writing a play in verse following the pattern of Lope de Vega. " And I smiled to my outside because, after all, awards dinner there are many but how are you very little.

Who I'd tell my a month ago, two continents of the house, going to find much love and understanding among three people who did not know two weeks ago. How great is the world. And our view that small.

Trinity Financial Mission

Eating (and drinking) in Japan

If someone came to Kobe, I would suggest that, first, is passed through Chinatown. It's small, but cozy, and when the mixture of food odors for a Western novel makes an excuse for the cardinal sin of gluttony. A cop me a bit far from home, the truth, because this near Sannomiya, but when I can I escape to enjoy a meal that I have no idea of \u200b\u200bhis name, but clearly I have something that will be sorely least when it comes to Spain. Although I do not dare to try things too that at first glance do not know what they are. It is possible, I know, fantastic things I miss. But waiting for a friend who recommended me or at least describe me what is, after the experience with "pancakes" of Kyoto almost prefer to stay with the win.

Overall, eating here is fun. Or rather, do the shopping. Not because you have dependents hilarious jokes (which, on the other hand, I do not understand), but that is one aspect in which I see more differences. This is normal, because I remember when Tara and her family were in Spain looking for common foods in Canada, but to us it sounded English to Chinese. I mean, within the customs, each country has its flavors.

Many of you know the passion I have for the municipal markets, food markets, where the scent leads you into unexpected territories. So, when on my last visit I found out that Kyoto is known for its fine cuisine, and there is a market town which is said to be "the kitchen of Kyoto", which I headed there for rest of temples and buses saturated For if the hearing had enjoyed the parks and pagodas, it is fair that the other senses, brethren, have their share of the party on this trip. Appeared, therefore, market, and almost went crazy. Because the striking developments may appear in each corner, and everyday life is one of the main corners of the human being. I can not describe the huge amount of food we had there, and not got to know what they were. Vegetables, animals, fruits, pickles ... and other things I could mention doing something similar with what I know, like "pate" or "stiff", but it is quite possible that neither are nor shall it appear. Suffice it to include two pictures of the market here for you to know what I mean. These are relatively easy to guess, but is that not all posts could shoot well because they were full or because the owner coolie face looked angry.


is very common here in the markets to buy food ready to go. In general, and second I have understood it more expensive to cook their meals in restaurants, which does not mean that Japanese do not like eating at home. Since working like crazy (I've already talked about it, I know), I do not have time to cook when they come home. For me it is very convenient, because many times I go to the supermarket next door and grab freshly made food trays (and I know this because I recently made the guys who are doing ahead of me). This applies, for example, the sushi, which is much cheaper here than in Spain, in addition to rather more palatable. Not to mention the varieties which are unthinkable in house, such as tuna belly (or so I believe), eel (incredibly delicious), octopus (octopus, so good, mmmm) or escalope of pork with barbecue sauce ( and I swear I'm serious). Arguably, therefore I am "ensushiando" enough, so when I get home I'll have to "limphiar", although my girlfriend is willing to do most of my sushi. But I loved it. There are days here just like sushi and so pancho, i get cheaper than a menu of the day in Spain. Someday, anyway, I want to try the restaurants, which I understand will be better than the supermarkets. But at the moment is that I do not feel too comfortable with the language to get into a character and answer any questions that I probably will do. Anyway, I will go see.

And what I love pastry is window shop. Because here what is almost more developed that technology is the candy market. In a supermarket could get dizzy with the variety of chocolates and assorted chocolates. And, as I say, in shop windows pastries look like works of art. The way of buying is very simple, because you take a tray to get it filled with rolls that you like, for which you get with tweezers very handy little tray, and then you pay like a gentleman. Not always as muffins, but I say that (d) watch something worthwhile. On the other hand, this control cholesterol'm having something wrong, because when I buy something in the market is not where I have to look in the box for "nutritional information" fat content. So, I repeat, I swelled with Sushi, which I understand has no cholesterol.

For drinks, here the Green tea is the national, to the extent that they call "Japanese tea" and in the restaurant of the university is free, like water. There are some drums (such as cold water available in some stores) filled with warm green tea, which I'm used to it. Neither are bad aloe vera juice with bits of flesh of white grape, black grape juice, black sesame drink Fanta or melon. Before you ask, that you know, you tell that I have not tried the sake. But I have to point out that sake is not a particular drink, but sake means "alcohol" and that therefore there sake rice and a thousand other things.

And with so much talk me into hunger. I'll see what I zampo. I think it will fall thick noodles (Udon) with curry or something.

Goodnight.

Start A Saree Bussiness

Kyoto (II): Kinkakuji

( Note to a small prologue - Given the immense feeling of isolation that is wander in an environment you do not have the ability to understand anything without looking at the dictionary, the music becomes a vital sense: it creates imbuirte some complicity in a state of mind to those around you do not understand, so that there is a tie, as there is a mutual incomprehension towards others and towards each other, but not by this means less happiness . I mean that during the weekends, which is when I do the tourist thing, the iPod becomes my second heart. That is the reason why in today's blog I mention the music that moved me, stirred me and moved me during my excursion to Kyoto Saturday.)

The Kyoto last weekend made me short because it takes to get an hour and fourth from the central station of Kobe (Sannomiya, you know, which is half an hour from the residence where I live, the station Gakuentoshi), so I decided to get up early to better enjoy the day. No short or lazy I woke up at 6.00 am when the streets of Kobe that are already placed enough, for here the stage machinery makers are very early risers. After breakfast and order a little bit the fourth to take the subway to Sannomiya and I approached the train station a special transport redeem bonds (the JR Rail Pass, I guess that I'll talk about it later, so hold on to the name) to buy in Spain, as in Japan can not buy. By mistake, the girl (it's amazing that nobody speaks English here, for more to be told that if they speak it) gave me some tickets that corresponded with me but they were infinitely better, because I could ride a bullet train, called Shinkansen. Ditancia is not much, but I tell you, do not delay anything. To put it more accurately, from Osaka to Kyoto (Osaka is in the middle of the road, and last week the hard drive as 50 minutes) takes 3 songs from Abba: Chiquitita , Dancing Queen and Mamma Mia . (What Shall I tell you, every one will get the gay side where you least expect it.) The train was about to start came when Thank you for the music that hard as it takes to find the exit to the street , so I could enjoy Waterloo jumping with happiness Kyotenses sidewalks.

Sometimes I think the swing is the engine that moves the world.

Moved by this irrefutable truth rode the bus ready to scoff Kyoto and I plug in the swinging Sinatra sessions. Suddenly, almost a betrayal, it sounds like one of the most amazing lyrics I remember:

Someday when I'm awfully low,

When the world is cold,

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight .

( Someday, when this terribly decayed,

when the world is cold,

will feel a glow just thinking of you

and how you tonight.)

I was not too awfully low to say, but if I felt that glow to remember the way she Looked All Those nights and the endless nights that rondare, brunette. Right there, then, squeezed up from the epigastrium Hundreds of Japanese (because we must add that apart from the passion of these guys roll up on public transport, the Japanese who were with me on the bus were tourists, so the pressure was indescribable) a tender tear slipped down my cheek and I had to clean the tongue, as my left hand was caught between a briefcase and a man's leg with Gothic king face and right hand trying to escape from the oppression that an old (pardon me, I wanted to say old) strove to inflict merciless. Advantage which would have to have anyone here look at the face, because to see a foreshortened (in the literal sense of the word) of six feet-plus with headphones suck face has to be a show for a any of the five Japanese in 1200 that surrounded me at that time.

was lucky and that I wanted to stop was nearby. More than I thought. It was the Buddhist temple (well, exactly a doctrine derived from Buddhism) Higashi-Honganji, which is huge huge huge. Made of wood and all the buildings around here, I could only see the entrance to the exhibition (which I can see with the face of duck) and small temples, which I took no pictures inside because he was a priest (or whatever) in the middle of a mass (idem) of which I understood a few words Loose as "pillow" and "caring." You can not say that my Japanese is not advancing at a glance. For those who may know the facade of the University Cisneriana, say that the temple "small", of which attached photo, is higher. The temple "big" was covered completely with a ship construction, since it is in reform. From the looks of the ship, the above templito had to be almost as big as the Plaza de Cervantes. You may happen to me, of course, but I'll have to somehow communicate the impression that I caused. On the right side of the photograph you can see the height of the nave of work that covers the temple. If you say to him, the temple that appears in the photo is almost tiny imaginareis you better than I speak. Background first act of Turandot, for environment a bit. It is an opera set in China, whether in the imperial Beijing, but we can not forget that the Kyoto (or Heian Kyo, as it was at that time) was built in the image and likeness of the Chinese court, he was the model tracking the Japanese without saying drank this green tea is my . As the world has changed in ten centuries, now the Japs universal control technology and Chinese roses sold in bars.

be back to take a bus to amortize the Bonobus of a day that I bought at the station on arrival and to avoid making a collective niponicidio hear Gomaespuma, causing such a state of hilarity in me that he noticed that the bus driver looks at me through the rearview mirror while driving. I can not help it: the history of the sock and the cleaning lady I fell.

Pasa half an hour until I Rokuon-ji temple, which houses the famous Kinkakuji, also called Pavilion Gold more than obvious reasons. Tamara warned me that most likely would come a time when all the temples seem equally, and the National Geographic guide tells me that's a thought very common but there is no case to make because the temples are full of subtle details that differentiate them. However, I have the bad luck that I have no one to accompany me to tell me those details (I love to do a tour of any of these temples, but I dare not pay for me to speak in English Japanize that probably leave me as I am), which, heeding my dear resident of La Paz, I am driven mostly by the pure nature that is around the monuments. Buddhism and Shintoism, so it seems, are highly integrated with everything that has to do with nature mater, and I would have time to stop listening at first and then Corelli Gesualdo to decide that the most beautiful at this time is to listen to the breeze that sighs on the leaves, on water and birds and waterfalls. I approach the golden pavilion, as I can I avoid the hundreds and hundreds of people eager to get a picture cloned that of others, and seek approaches that bring me other sensations. I, therefore, countless photos, and once the camera has done its job, let it rest to be me trying to rest as far as possible the union with everything around me (or almost everything, I have no intention to join the Sunday drivers who have no qualms about squandering the haven that promises yard), and is beginning to glimpse what they say to feel one with the cosmos. Those who know me will believe that I'm joking, or that when it comes to Alcala ire all stinking smoke and sandalwood incense sticks. But it has nothing to do with it. This is not an outdated hippie seventies in Ibiza and around, but to understand once and for all that what has characterized the human being throughout history (and talking about human beings with capital and not only militarized Hottentots breathe to the rhythm of war, which has been around in this blue sky is not always) has been the constant search for beauty, be here in Rome in Ecija in Boston or in Port Moresby. Beauty concept has changed over the centuries and locations, but Rubens had been startled by the works of Modigliani, Tomas Luis de Victoria with the symphonies of Mahler does not change anything. Not even about religions, cultures, nationalities, experiences or other esoteric trifles. I mean, that Beauty with capital has been and will continue to be an innate human search. Or so I believe. After all, what is love but the desire to be one with what we consider beautiful?

The same ideas and same pleasures (not just aesthetic but also emotional) haunt me in my visit to the temple of Ninnaji, whom I regret not being able to show you pictures of causes that do not come to mind. Do not know where I heard that in some cultures the metal was another element, like water, air, earth and fire. I do not know if that happens here, but I notice that the iron is integrated in nature and became almost part of it, but note that a discontinuity that involves an assault on the eyes. These guys knew what was up, and you can not deny that they made a inadjetivable work. But here I can not even want to echo the thousands of reflections that I trasconquineaban while wandering in these temples. Suffice it to say that I think that one has to make this trip (not me refiero a Japon sino a algo mas intimo) en su mismo yo, y conseguir hallar un tiempo para si que le evada de aquello que no le deje evadirse de nada. Se que ahora mismo soy un afortunado, que cuando llegue a casa volvere a ser engullido de modo inexorable por la voragine stressil que nos consume imperterrita, pero no por ello quisiera reivindicar para cada uno esa parcela de paz profunda e intransferible que nos merecemos. Es dificil, lo se, pero ay amigos, que distinto seria todo si fuera mas facil.

En esto me hallaba cuando llegue al ultimo edificio que me habia propuesto visitar hoy: el templo de Ryoanji, que segun mis noticias was unlike anything I had seen until then (and here I refer not only to Japan) because the interior garden is an area of \u200b\u200braked gravel on which they stand 15 rocks of different size and shape. Built in the late fifteenth century, this temple is spoken of as the beginning of all Western minimalism from people like Gropius or Brook is excited to the core with something as simple and profound at once. Somewhat skeptical about what I see, I stood at the door of the temple, bare me, I freeze it now makes a horrible scratching and the temple does not have any door.

As envisioned, the garden is full of people talking and whispering and talking on the phone in that singsong Wakarimasen that makes me crazy for quite a whopping two weeks, but not first decide to lose the feeling looking at the ground (a simple wooden tatami) while waiting to be a hole is made between people who admire the delights of the gravel. When I notice that someone has gone I sit, I sit comfortably, and once installed look for the Allegri Miserere, which is so beautiful it makes mourn the southeast trade winds. So that I look up according to the first chord sounds, and what is presented before me is just what I imagined: a set of misplaced stones and boring and not seen since that of Tapies exhibition at the Reina Sofia. But something tells me that I stay the more than ten minutes it takes the Miserere. I climb a little volume to block out the voices around me, thinking that meditation without a doubt looking Soami (painter and gardener who designed it) can not be reached within ten seconds.

And so it happened that, in a curious blend of Renaissance polyphony and Zen gardens, after a little while I start to shake some thoughts, not all defined, but they produce a real emotion, almost tangible. I think of Don Rodrigo, I'm just a piece of gravel, the leaves die in autumn without anyone knowing, when the sea is not always to blame, in my mother's head down and in a present that anything goes. And for a second, and ten seconds, and even something more, I want to break to mourn. To mourn for the emotion, to mourn for simplicity, to mourn apologetic for not knowing the penalty must always remember that last as long as one allows. I embrace the Lord that I have at hand, curl up on like a salamander and cry out but I do not understand or will not understand. Suddenly, as I undertook this, a ray of sun blinds me for a moment, and when I get to open my eyes I notice that something is falling. I rub my eyes to verify that there is a dazzling effect, and I reach out enough to notice that it is not that, it starts to rain, to sparkle, to drizzles. But the sun does not hide, but drops shines, few persons who dare to slip into my face, and again, as fleeting as they came, they leave.

The Allegri Miserere over. Have been the best eleven minutes eighteen seconds since I came to the archipelago as crazy as heavenly.

I turn, enjoy the rest of the yard, came back to put on, I left the room, and, with them, turn off the music sounded in that time (Bach, Grieg, who cares ...) to go to the station, whistling the greatness that we have the anonymous beings.