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[nokonoko journal] The progress 5


Dreaming Murakami 

It's not about a froggy but a translator who translates Japanese into Danish.

It was interesting to see the process of translating vertical texts into horizontal texts, because what I usually do is the other way around.

Of course how they work depends on each translator or a type of text, but I thought it was a good reference to get to know this profession and its world. (You don't need to be a harukist to understand.)

Merci Christine for letting me know!


[nokonoko journal] The progress 4

65 movies, and my initial end date came. But now that my area is in pre-state of emergency again, I keep going anyway. Frankly this challenge has been more fun than I thought it would be...!

Pavel Karmanov - Past Perfect


Whisper #446-470



At a hotel. A breakfast room. Big windows. Sunny sky.



Bright white tablecloth. A little flower vase on each table. A small sunflower.



The sound of cutlery and crinkling newspapers. A room full of solo travelers.



Ordinary breakfast buffet. Toast, salad, eggs, fruits... I like these make your own sandwich corners.



Hard bread, Emmenthal... and a bit of butter. So many choices, yet I tend to choose the same thing all the time.



A coffee, with milk and sugar please.



A big group of people came in to the room. Big voice, big accents.



They all went to the buffet, and one of them tripped on a tablecloth.



Bread, fruits, cheese, salad... everything on the table and this person's plate were flying high in the air.



And some of them landed on the table where a man was sitting on, located in front of mine. 



I somehow remember this scene in slow motion. Just like movie.



The person who tripped started to yell with the big accent. It was because of this tablecloth was too long, this is not normal, it's not my fault, it's humiliating, what kind of hotel service is this, etc.



Two hotel staffs came. Are you alright? Yes, tablecloth. Don't worry we'll clean this right away. And within 5 minutes the buffet table got back to normal condition.



The man in front of me cleaned up his table silently, luckily the damage was minimum to my eyes. He got a new plate and asked a new cup of coffee, then got back to reading papers.



The group with the person who tripped finished eating, and left the room. The room became quiet again.



And one by one, other people left the room to start their day too.



I asked the man in front of me. How could you be so collected?



He said "It all happened too suddenly and I couldn't even form words."





To this day, I still think about this.



Haven't we focused too much on these loud voices just because it's loud?



Haven't we disregarded these tiny voices that often didn't came out as a proper sentence?



Haven't we.



Whisper #436-445




An airport. Early morning. The smell of coffee. The sound of brewing.



1.5 hour before the departure.



Most stores are still closed. Dimmed window displays. Quiet boxes of perfume and cigarettes. Lingering smell of duty free shops.



Coffee. Extremely hot airport coffee. Can't taste anything other than hot. Perfect.



Staffs slowly coming in. Fresh makeups. Sleepyheads. They're still dragging their faces outside of work. I like it.



The fact that they are here for work, soothes me.



The fact that they will keep serving extremely hot coffee after I leave, gives me stability.



Excitement. Nervous faces. Relief. A big bottle of water. Light sound of tapping laptop keybord.



Gate check. Phone.


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