OF TSUYU AND MONSOONS

I had to learn it the hard way : if there is one thing it is okay to steal in Japan, it's an umbrella. The rainy season started today, and with it, pouring rain and umbrellas everywhere, growing out of subways and buildings like mushrooms out of humid moss. Commonly referred to as tsuyu, it soaks Tokyo twice a year, and drowns all chances of a dry day. Rain in Japan is nothing like rain in Europe or anywhere I have lived. Imagine buckets of water being thrown on you repeatedly, all day long. The drops can come at anytime, startled you when you thought you were done for the week, or announce themselves the night before, drumming on the rooftops. For those of you who have never experienced a rainy season, ever, anywhere, I strongly advise you spend the rest of your life avoiding it. Come June, Tokyo gets swallowed in a humid, humid, humid and hot bubble, to the point that the Japanese have come up with the clever  蒸し暑い, mushiatsui expression - humid and hot. While I have shivered under cold rain in Normandy, Japan offers a different precipitation experience, creating interesting umbrella jams on the streets, and a delicate perspiration scent on the subway. People become sweaty animals, sweat salary men with their hentai manga, sweaty teenagers fooling around, soaked and slippery floods. Home becomes a sweet haven for dryness and cool. As it does for extremely cold weather, the idea of going out raises numerous problems : what shoes am I willing to ruin, bike, foot or subway, should I wear a poncho that will cover my whole body, what umbrella am I willing to part with in the event that someone-with-no-soul steals it.

As the rain falls and cover all with a glossy layer, as streams form in the most shapely sidewalk crack, I try to convince myself I will be able to find some poetry in this rainy season. I remember staring at the white-grey sky, counting the drops falling to my face as I wondered if all this could become wonderful, if caught in a photograph or if approached with an open-mind. Then I looked at the weather for the next days, and realized the sound of rain drumming against my window and roof, surrounding us all, would not stop tomorrow, nor the day after. We are, for a yet unknown period of time, bound to the falling rain.

On that note, I am highly considering buying sun jellies. I would have to get them imported, which begs the question of whether this tsuyu is worth it.