Pink pills, white pills, donut-shaped pills and a white powder

I still remember when we had a lesson in our 2nd year japanese book about going to the doctor, and how I thought that the whole 3 different colored pills for a cough -episode was ridiculously funny. No wonder I had some difficulties keeping a straight face when an hour ago I was listening to a young doctor first telling me that there's actually not that much wrong with me, just a normal viral infection that should go away in some days, and then prescribing me 5 different medicines. FIVE! For "controlling the symptoms". I don't remember a time when I'd have taken 5 different medications simultaneously before, even if I count all the painkillers and other over-the-counter meds. And yes, he explained them to me in terms of color and shape: "First there's this general cold medicine that you take 1 sachet three times a day after the meal, then there's the pink pills, and the bigger white pills that you also take the same way, and then the small white pills that you should take 2 instead of 1, but similarly three times after meals, and the donut-shaped pills you should take whenever your throat hurts or feels uncomfortable." He also neglected to mention that the general medicine was a powder and I've never have taken powders before (apparently you're not supposed to mix them with water but just eat them as they are?), but hey, there's a first time for everything, right?

So, now I'm like an old granny taking pills at every turn. This also means that I need to keep eating regularly, since even though I might have taken meds to an empty stomach before (yes, bad me), I'm a bit afraid what my otherwise pretty tough tummy that can handle almost anything would say about this japanese way of medication...

In Finland the doctor would have just taken a look at my throat, and then told me to get back to work while glaring at me with a "why are you wasting my time"-look. It's kind of from one extreme to the other... But the frustrating truth is that it's only my vocal chords that are inflamed, and otherwise I'm fine - meaning I don't feel the need to stay at home resting (which I probably should be doing). Not only that, after one day of staying inside I'm so bored that I need to get out, and if I'm in a good enough condition to stay on my 2 feet, I'll just tell myself that "I just won't talk at all and everything will be alright". As if I could "not talk at all". *g* And anyways I'm so used to losing my voice (happens completely usually once a year) that I somehow can't take it as seriously as I probably should. Even now the only reason for me to go to the doctor is that I have my shinsa next sunday and I absolutely need to be in a relatively good condition for it. Ok, I don't need my voice for it, at least not much, but I still wouldn't want my condition to be any worse than what it is now. Well, the doctor said that this should be gone by sunday or monday and he gave me meds only for 5 days, so hopefully I won't have to go and get some more.

Apart from the small inconveniences caused by the cold, yesterday evening went nicely. I had managed to write a haiku-like haiku for the very first time! *applause* It's my first haiku that isn't too descriptive, and here it is:

夏山の　竹陰の感　初日本

It's also harder to translate than the previous ones, but I'll give it a try: The feeling of shadowy bamboo forests in the summer mountains - my first time in (first impression of) Japan. When I first came here in 2002 I didn't really understand anything about Japan, and I was taken to all these nice temples in the mountains etc. - but what made the strongest impression to me was the forests of bamboo in the mountains (no bamboo nor mountains in Finland), and how it felt to walk in their shadow listening the sound of the wind moving through the bamboo leaves... I'm still in love with japanese mountains and bamboo, and that's something that began on my first trip here.

I wasn't at all sure about the haiku at first, and it's something I barely managed to finish before having to leave for zazen, but apparently I managed to do something right this time. :D I got a long lecture of how the 2 parts of a haiku can be related to each other in a descriptive way (the way I usually write them), or they can be related in only the writers mind (like this last one - there's not really anything tying the last line with the 2 others if you don't know the story behind it), and somehow apparently the latter is good as it's not nearly as descriptive as the former one. What I'd like to know is when is it a good thing and when is it not clear enough? There's a fine line there and I think the only way to find out is by trial and error... It's so frustrating that once I'm starting to get some hang of this I have to return back home.

The annoying thing is that I had to explain yesterday some 10 times when I will be returning back home - everyone kept asking it since my small iaidô demonstration yesterday was a kind of "farewell demonstration" - even though I'm still here for a month. Only a month, that is. 寂しいなぁ。。。