The Ultimate Holiday - Memoirs of a Geisha

Holiday trip

A holiday. Yes, this was what it's supposed to be about, but right now, being covered in dirt and mud, doesn't really seem so. I'd run away from Gion, from everyone, away from Mother and Grandma. Pumpkin saw me sneaking out from the backdoor but chose to remain quiet about it, what I'm thankful about. She'd look extra gloomy lately, being quieter than usual, and for whatever reason, I should come back and ask her what's it about. Yes, I was coming back, for it's pretty obvious I didn't have anywhere else to go. Besides, this place had become more like home lately.

My destination? You must be thinking, why, it must be some kind of a glorious city, beautiful, sparkly wherever you see, but none of that is true, well, maybe one. I was heading back to Yoroido. I am now sixteen, the same age Satsu was when we were younger, before all of this happened. I've been to Gion for quite some time. Yoroido was quiet, it had barely any people, and to top off, it's got quite the low living standards. For some reason, I still could see the beauty in it, the beauty of children running around, of women wearing robes and yelling at them, the superstitious men, their darkened skin from all the early morning sunshine fishing at the harbour. I'm being too specific again, now and again I'd get these headaches, reminding me of my mother who had passed away, a father who sold me to the fish corporate owner. Surprisingly I held no enmity, just a bit of confusion, even now. But enough about that, now, where I was at.

I arrived at the gates of Yoroido, and there I was,looking into the little village where i was born. I lifted my muddy kimono, and walked inside in my Zori. At first a few villagers gave me the strangest looks, almost delicated, for they have never seen anything like it, like me. A young girl wearing a bright green kimono with sophisticated designs, but they eventually brushed it off. I looked around for a while, confused at what I was seeing. Everything's so..new. It seemed so strange, almost like I didn't belong anymore. A negative feeling started to gloom me in, probably the one added from so many others that I'd ignored in my earlier days. It may be surprising, but up until now, I still thought nothing much about how I wanted to be adopted after my mother had died. I stood still for a while, gasping for air from this suffocation called nostalgia, and kept walking like nothing had happened. There was not much in this tiny village, maybe I've outgrown all of this, for I could've sworn this place seemed like a maze in my memory. I went everywhere, from the fishing harbour, to the markets that I used to sit and play with the other children at, and finally, I reached my tipsy home

It still looked almost the same, but now it's empty, and I have assumed that my father had left for some business, or maybe he had just left completely. I didn't have the time to think about, My head blacked out when I lightly pushed the old wooden door, and it opened, indefensive. With all these wooden items inside my house, the tipsy chairs and tables, the photo frames with a shade of dulled gold, the windows that seemed to be only providing light, but not air. I walked inside, with almost of an excited feeling inside my stomach, not butterflies, but more bee-like, my stomach grumbled and buzzed like a big animal, like the feeling you have before dinner, respectively. But I did not hunger for food, I wanted something else - memories. I want, or wanted, a feeling of familiarity, to not feel so lost all the time. Just like the broken Satsu when she sloshed the water out all on her own, not aware of her own actions. I felt as if I had amnesia, like a part of my childhood was cut off yet I was unaware of it. Looking around, I realized what had always been there, the wooden floor where my father was, with his rope, whose eyes were looking empty and hollow almost all of the time in my memory. For a brief moment there, I had the intention of staying there, stay in Yoroido, to at least try and figure out what I had missed in the past, looking into the smallest of details, to once again, feel that there was something lively in this dull town

Instead, I am now back in Gion, with everyone, with the same faces I've seen everyday, because I chose to stray from reality, from the old fishing boats, and the superstitious men, and back to sparkly dresses with light talking, charming laughters and so called "erotic" gestures.

The "holiday trip" to Yoroido seemed almost like a dream, like I've never been anywhere near that place, like I've never turned the knob to my childhood room, gazing tearfully at the sunset beaming into what was once my mother's death room, on my mother's death bed. The sun was as bright as the sorrow in my heart, and the sky was as clear as my mother's grey eyes, the same as mine when she found out where i was going, when her last dying breaths might've called my name, aching for me to come back

I am not returning anymore.