I woke up in the middle of the night. Maybe my lower back felt off, or maybe I was having a strange dream.
When I opened my eyes, a woman wearing a hat was about 30 centimeters away.
She had short hair that reached about shoulder length. The blue light from the laptop charger, a little light leaking from the window, and the pitch-dark room blended together and her face stood out clearly.
At first I thought Elena's mother was staring at me. I thought, how terrifying. But of course that wasn't it. It was really a ghost. After about two seconds, maybe noticing my shock, she slipped away. But she didn't seem like a bad person.
I kept chanting Namu Daishi Henjo Kongo and Namu Amida Butsu. When I realized it was 8 a.m. As the light gradually streamed in, the fear faded, but I hesitated about turning on the light. What if the ghost did something the moment I switched it on? What if I closed my eyes and opened them again and she was still there? My whole body was covered in goosebumps the whole time.
It was the first time in my life I'd had such an experience. It was really scary.
Invisible forces
In the morning I called my grandmother. I told her about the ghost, about Latvia, about France. I also mentioned that it might be the spirit of April from Latvia.
Elena got up at 11. Not "good morning" but "good–late–morning."
I wanted to go downstairs to get a shirt, but I didn't know how to talk to her mother. Maybe I'm just the kind of person who overthinks things. Am I inherently introverted? I don't know how to start. I hope I can resolve it someday. But Elena once said, "I don't know how to start a conversation either." In the end we're alike, so it'll probably be fine. It's not that it's awkward—it's just personality. It might take quite a long time to get close and open up. But isn't a complicated personality what makes someone interesting?
When I went downstairs, her mother always greeted me with "Hello!" A kind mother. She asked, "Did you sleep well last night?" so, without hiding myself or lying, I honestly said, "I had nightmares and a scary experience, so I couldn't sleep." That's fine. Just tell exactly what you experienced. It doesn't matter what the other person thinks.
Her mother prepared coffee and a baguette. The baguette you eat at Elena's house is incredibly delicious—I was really looking forward to it.
I felt like playing the piano, so I played Nocturnes, the Turkish March, a sonatine, and a sonata. Her mother said, "You're good," which made me very happy. If I think about the one thing I can do, it's definitely playing the piano. Elena and her mother both prefer giving over taking, so I could tell they're good people.
Before going out I shared the ghost story. It turned out Elena's mother has a spiritual sense too. She said invisible forces are at work. She can feel shortness of breath the moment someone enters the house and can tell when someone is in the house. She said she can sense in her heart whether it's a good person or a bad person.
Long ago, when her mother's friend was about to commit suicide, that invisible intuition kicked in: while driving she made a U-turn and headed to a certain place. There she found her friend in the middle of attempting suicide and saved her. Now that friend has two children and is living happily, apparently.
She was just like my grandmother. My grandma also likes jazz and wine. Elena, like her mother, likes jazz, and I too like jazz because of my grandmother's influence. Invisible forces worked, and now I'm being taken care of at Elena's house. I never imagined I'd spend New Year's Eve together—not even a millimeter of that thought. I felt a mysterious power.
When I told my grandmother that she had once said, "When you go abroad next time, bring incense," Elena's mother actually brought sandalwood incense. She said she prays every morning. It was unbelievable how much they had in common. I thought, similar people really do gather.
French supermarket
First, to the supermarket.
It wasn't as expensive as I thought—the cheese was unbelievably cheap. French supermarkets sell so much cheese; this is the real thing. Emmental, Gouda, goat cheese, blue cheese. Everything was cheap.
The baguettes are big too. Elena seems to like Greek yogurt. KIRI was properly on the shelves as well.
When I was carrying the shopping basket, she said, "I'll carry it." She's independent. This is how the French are. I thought again how cool that was. She has a solid sense of self, and I thought that was wonderful.
She bought Camembert, goat cheese, and salami for me. It was such hospitality that I felt almost apologetic. I want to become someone who can repay at least ten times that in the future.
To Aeroscopia
It rained all day. We were supposed to go to a small castle-like place called Monbal, but we changed plans and went to Toulouse's aviation museum, Aeroscopia.
Even though her mother kindly drove us, I was so tired I fell asleep. I couldn't help it since I hadn't been able to sleep because of the ghost last night.
After arriving, the two of us went to Aeroscopia. Her mother went to a cafe. Tickets were €14. Yesterday Elena bought my ticket, so when I said, "I'll buy it," she refused. In France, at least among her friends, they always split the bill. I realized that France is individualistic.
Aeroscopia is large; outside was Air France's Concorde, and inside many retired Airbus aircraft were on display.
It was the first time I saw tires and jet engines up close. It was a good experience.
With Elena we weren't always together; it felt like each of us was looking around individually. But I liked that. Of course our time is precious, so I want to talk a lot and get to know her better.
We've known each other for one and a half years and talk regularly, so I want to become closer. But she apparently doesn't know what to say to me. That's okay. I think she's just not used to it yet.
I wish I could show myself more without being shy. But something holds me back. Is this chemistry? I didn't know.
In the souvenir corner there were lots of Concorde replicas, Airbus posters, pins, and keychains. I bought a wine stopper and a pin. I kept hesitating and saying "sorry!" to Elena, but the conversations were fun. She smiled a lot.
Vintage movie theater
We left Aeroscopia and went to the cinema. From the back seat I watched Elena and her mother talking in French. She was drawing on the fogged window and hugging her mother. They seemed like a close, lovely family. The car was small and old, which somehow made them shine even more. They looked happy. I was deeply moved.
We arrived at the cinema. It was vintage—you wouldn't even think it was a movie theater. A cinema inside an old restaurant. A very cozy space.
Dinner was at 18:30, and we had about a 40-minute wait. While talking at a table near the fireplace, Elena noticed a piano nearby and started playing Debussy's "Clair de Lune." It fit the atmosphere perfectly and was wonderful.
She got lost partway through and couldn't keep playing, and a woman said something to her in French. I think it was a compliment, but at that moment her face went bright red. She went to her mother, hid her face, and hugged her. Too cute. Ah, so this is Elena, I thought.
I talked about jazz with her mother. "Do you know the album Take Five?" and we talked about saxophone jazz musicians. Elena showed me a Japanese musician who plays in an orchestra—he was so cool. He also studies biology; I thought he might be like me.
Two glasses of red wine, juice, bread, jam, salad, and cheese were laid out.
It was delicious. Sheep's cheese, a saucisson-like salami, wine. The bread was the best too. I told her mother that today's meal was much more comfortable and tastier than yesterday's gastronomic one.
Anyway, it was fun. But I was still being careful, and my Japanese mannerisms came out. The teaching that you must not be rude is deeply ingrained. Of course that's important, but because of that I might not be fully fitting into French culture. I think I should behave more freely, but there's still a wall.
If you change yourself, the other person will change too.
Today's movie was a comedy called "Le parfum vert." I decided to watch a French film. Elena researched films with English subtitles, but I wanted to feel French culture. Even if the language is French and I can't understand it, knowing the atmosphere is what's important; precisely because you don't understand the language, there's something special you can feel.
Honestly, I didn't understand the film's content. But at points I could tell what was being said from expressions and atmosphere. Not knowing the language made me focus on the visual and gain a new sense. I think that's very important.
Thanks to Elena and her mother, I was able to watch a French film in a French cinema. I'm full of gratitude.
Tomorrow, finally, I'm going to meet Elena's uncle.
