Moved

 

Yesterday morning, at half past four, I lay down to sleep in my room at Kyoto University International House.  Eighteen hours later, I was awakened by a strong autumn breeze that somehow got through the glass window I had absently left open and found its way to the door leading towards the kitchen.  Without getting up, I looked outside, expecting to see tops of pine trees bathed in yellow light.  Instead, I saw nothing but stars, hundreds of them dancing in the clear, cloudless sky.  Right then, I realized I wasn’t in the dormitory anymore. 

 

I had moved.

 

Unopened luggage and paperbags bursting at the seams littered the tatami-lined floor, along with pieces of shirts, pants, towels, jackets, and socks all piled together in a heap.  I was on the sixth floor of a six-floor building surrounded by tons of ramen shops.  Izumiya and Qanat, two enormous shopping malls, were a stone’s throw away; Kyoto University, ten minutes by bike.

 

The apartment is a bit shabby for my taste, but with some fresh curtains, a new set of futon, and a few pieces of wooden furniture, I’m sure everything’s gonna be perfect.  Why, with the grassy smell of the newly-installed tatami mats and the rustic feel of the paper-lined sliding doors, what’s there not to love?