The final lesson of Classical Japanese was nothing to fax home about, one more grammar point I wasn't too sure about before properly confirmed. On the other hand, some of the things we'd be covering next term were hinted at, and I think I have gained some knowledge of the way both Classical and modern Japanese work, though admittedly not in a way that would come in useful. Most of the evening was occupied with essay writing, although I did have a brief trip out to the shops, for recently I have discovered at what time they start reducing food and am thus become able to pick up some quite cheap sushi!
Tuesday was sadly uneventful. Somehow essay writing didn't quite happen the way it should have. I did get some rather pleasing news, though - since next term I'll move up to the next level of Japanese Class, I was expecting this meant taking IJ600 with the same teachers I met earlier this year (see September entries). But no! All the teachers move up to the next level as well, so I get to stay with the ones I've gotten used to and get on well with. Except for one of them, who is in a delicate state. Writing of essay went more smoothly on Wednesday, and I also had an impromptu interview to apply for some scholarship or other.
Upon Wednesday evening there also occurred an event that may remain in my memory some time. I was on my way to the library and happened to glance down the hill on which Nanzan is perched. I saw the town and surrounding mountains in silhouette, looking like they'd been drawn in charcoal. The sun had already sunk beneath the horizon, and the sky was painted spectacular colours, reds and oranges in the west, blues in the east, all merging seamlessly with each other. At that moment I felt somehow that the troubles of life couldn't last for ever. This sentiment is more or less lifted from an episode of Stephen Fry's "The Dongle of Donald Trefusis," but it is quite genuinely how I felt. It gave me hope.
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