The chunk 100 The message -560-

Olga hardly wrote to Ahmed these two weeks.
To know what a well is, you need to first fall into this well.
She was collecting information. First of all, she went to GoogleMap, studying the map of Japan. Many of the streets of Nagoya and other cities were so wonderfully digitized that Olga had the impression of a real walk. One could stop at one metro station, to go through all these long passages, and to find oneself in another part of the city, having observed all the surrounding details of the city along the way. Oh, what a wonderful railway bridge she found: it stretched for kilometers and, parallel to it, on the asphalt shone a rainbow reflection from its shiny side!
She went through the websites of universities in Japan and in Algeria, where Ahmed worked. She studied all the sources where Ahmed's research works were stored, looked through his Tiwtter and Safebook-accounts. She read forums of foreign teachers about their life in Japan, about the defense of their doctoral degrees, and about the prospects for foreigners in Japan, as well as just about Japan. She had seen a lot of crazy Japanese ads. She listened to vloggers living in Japan, walked through the streets of Japanese cities watching videos in HD quality. She started reading a book by a Russian author about Japanese architecture. She became interested in Buddhism, the religions, and the beliefs of the Japanese. She discovered and read two novels, from Pelevin and Akunin, where the action took place in or near Japan. There wasn't much time. It was necessary to create her bullshit! Therefore, she did not read Japanese literature at all, although she could, and it would be an exciting thing to read.
It took Olga three weeks to write the first six chunks.
She mentally plotted the reason for Ahmed's trip to Japan. The path of the trip had been traced on the map: from the place where the photo with three samurai statues, which he had published on his Safebook at 02.01.2020, was taken, toward Nagoya city where his university was located.
Olga wandered somewhere near Ahmed, felt that there was a lack of lively dialogue in her chunks, too many drawn-out descriptions. She felt that Ahmed's walks seemed not a man's, but a childish vision. But she could not figure out anything else. She dared not approach Ahmed: his feelings and thoughts were a mystery to her, which she could neither imagine nor express in words.
She began to write the chunks in Russian because she did not have enough knowledge of English. She translated from Russian to English using online translators, and then made edits, adding her own phrases or changing the vocabulary, realizing how clumsy, for sure, it sounds in both languages: she was not strong even in her native language.
She decided to herself that an idiot is an idiot everywhere, even in Africa, and idiots are allowed and forgiven a lot.
Finally, she sent the first six chunks to Ahmed.


Ольга почти не писала Ахмеду эти две недели.
Чтобы познать что такое колодец, нужно для начала провалиться в этот колодец.
Она собирала информацию. Первым делом отправилась в GoogleMap, изучая карту Японии. Многие улицы Нагои и других городов были так замечательно оцифрованы, что у Ольги оставалось впечатление реальной прогулки. Можно было зайти на одной станции метро, пройти всеми этими долгими переходами, и очутиться в другом месте города, рассмотрев все детали по пути. Ах, какой дивный железнодорожный мост она нашла: он тянулся на километры и, параллельно ему, на асфальте сияло радужное отражение от его блестящего бока!
Она прошлась по сайтам университетов, в Японии и в Алжире, где работал Ахмед. Изучила все источники, где хранились исследовательские работы Ахмеда, тщательно просмотрела его аккаунты в Тивттер и Сейфбук. Читала форумы иностранных преподавателей об их жизни в Японии, о защите докторской степени и о перспективах для иностранцев в Японии. И просто о Японии. Насмотрелась сумасшедшей японской рекламы. Слушала влоггеров, живущих в Японии, гуляла по улицам японских городов, просматривая видео в HD качестве. Начала читать книгу русского автора о японской архитектуре. Заинтересовалась буддизмом, религиями и верованиями японцев. Обнаружила и прочитала два романа, Пелевина и Акунина, где действие происходило в Японии или около Японии. Времени было мало. Нужно было творить! Поэтому японскую литературу она не читала вовсе, хотя могла бы, и это было бы захватывающее чтение.
Три недели ушло у Ольги чтобы написать первые шесть кусочков.
Она мысленно строила причину путешествия по Японии и путь Ахмеда, который проследила по картам, от той фотографии трех статуй самураев, которые он разместил у себя на странице Сейфбук 2 января 2020, к городу Нагоя, где был его университет.
Ольга бродила где-то около Ахмеда, чувствовала, что не хватает живого диалога, слишком много затянутых описаний, и она чувствовала, что хождения Ахмеда — не мужское, а по-детски наивное видение, но ничего она не могла придумать другого. Она не решалась подступиться к Ахмеду: его чувства и мысли были для нее тайной, которую ни вообразить, ни выразить словами она не может.
Сами кусочки она стала писать по-русски, потому что знаний английского не хватало. Она переводила с русского на английский в онлайн-переводчиках, а потом делала правку, добавляя свои фразы или меняя лексику, понимая, как коряво, наверняка, это звучит на обоих языках: она не была сильна даже в родном языке. Решила про себя, что идиот — он и в Африке идиот, а идиотам позволяется и прощается многое.
Наконец, она отправила первые шесть кусочков Ахмеду.

The message - 230-
26/05/20
Hello Ahmed!
Unfortunately, you are more Muslim mentally, Muslim in the vulgar sense, not their the noblest realization, than I expected. You make all the same as all other common Muslims but less than usual, due to you being good educated. In Japan, you may have developed the skills in how to be useful to people, how to be a good friend, or have friendly relationships without being real friends.
 You always want to seem more muscular, more male than you are, as I feel of course. Your nature is more poetic, meeker, more feminine, and sensitive. You are a young dreamer in your soul. But you deny your such qualities, prefer to be manful, but, it is fine, cannot be rude or cruel. You are always running after manliness. But I was embarrassed to meet mature attractive women. You don't realize it, probably, you are more relaxed and friendly, also interested in young inexperienced girls, your students, for example, you feel you are 25 in their company for a while, forget about your age if they encourage you, don't do big eyes. I noticed you are afraid to be accused of sexual abuse, but not with a young girl, it's a more spacious woman. I am not saying that you avoid contact with older women. You usually become shy with an active adult or experienced attractive woman, but you hide it by doing a brave look (and again feel like a 25 years old guy). I said attractive..not everyone..this is another question which exactly women you find attractive and why. This is the most difficult to explain. You are not a simple nature.
I think if you accept that you are a bit feminine despite your scholar and sports achievements, and high status in life, you'll become happier and really more mature, real Man. I would like to see you free.
Interesting, can you express your feelings directly to the object of your obsession except for your love for martial arts and friends? I am sure you hardly say about your feelings, hardly can utter to someone the most important "I love you" or "I am proud of you" face to face, prefer impressing in other forms your feelings, in comments in social media as most Arabians, in money, in gifts. It is impossible to say looking at clear loved eyes. Say just because you are flooding with the sense of love right now, for no reason, not a "formal" expression as it uses American families "I love you, ma, pa! We love you too!" daily. Don't know about you. You are better than me.

For me it is difficult. I never told my daughter directly "I love you", instead I say "you are clever, beautiful, something else. I never told it to my "partner" because I've never felt that way. My mother and father never told me. Americans are great. I would like to hear it every day because hypnosis is greatly beneficial. Why can't I cope with myself? It is too late to start due to not being considered trustworthy acting.

The message - 230-
27/05
Hello Ahmed!
Today's my day off. The workday again was 8-9 hours long. I feel quite tired from such long 9-hours sitting in my office, so I needed a long rest and spent the day lazy again.
Close to evening, I decided at last to watch the movie my daughter loves so much, a good tale for girls, "Pride and Prejudice". I was alone in the by-thick-curtains-darkened room. From time to time she'd open the door to look where I am watching now, and asked: "So what? What is it like?". When the movie ended, I sat on the windowsill due to hearing thunder. I saw the thunderstorm was far far away, I could see plenty of bright lightning and grey stripes of rain far away, there was no rain here. Then I saw half of the sky was getting clearer and clearer. I was gazing at the bright place, ignoring lightning in the other half of the heavens. They burst in the area that I could observe from my window and in that part of sky that was hidden by the roof. I thought that it was my life: I could not see all the situations from my cage I am in. I can see and understand the small part of... I don't know.. of being. I would like to have apprehension about what is waiting for me further, I would like to predict a bit, to have known a bit for avoiding stupid mistakes. Also, I want to understand more about life, the things I face every day, the people I meet and know.
I watched how the bright part of heaven got brightly blue and sunny, I started crying a bit and it had begun to rain right in front of my window at the same moment. "How strange..", it occurred to me: "how strange.." It ceased in two minutes of rain before I dried my tears. All the dark clouds were swept away by a strong fresh wind. I love such weather. It brings recovery. A fresh thunderstorm came here at last..to me. Trees are merrily greeting it waving with dignity by their giant branches. Spicy air..umm...how much I love it...I love to live experiencing such moments.

The message - 230--235-
Chunks =1--6=
07/06--14/06

The message - 236-
9/06
Hello Ahmed!
I miss you very much, don’t know why. I did not make time for translating the new book and for writing a new message. However, I always keep your image and my feeling of you in my mind, and talk with you in my head every single day. I know you don’t want to even know what I think or you consider yourself as knowing and understanding of that. That is why I don’t place here my daily thoughts. They are also not important for me because they can be changed rapidly.  Today is an exceptional day. I want to talk today and I have a bit of time. I did not meet someone better for me than you..or my imagination of you. I will correct some places in the book: Japan, it turned out, is much different than I imagined. It is quite difficult to describe something you have never seen and write about things you have never known. The same with you: obviously you have many friends and acquaintances in Japan, but imagining such relations and all actions, feelings, thoughts of you is almost impossible for me. So I will take my fantasy. It is interesting to create an alternative reality or a person (you are one who is worth it — to be described), but it's complicated: I am not skilled here either and, as you know, have tiny experiences in life.

One guy from Ghana (he has been writing to me from time to time throughout the last year) wrote to me in PenPals and this time I gave him my Whatsapp. He calls himself Sculptor and an Artist. Indeed, he makes Ghanaian coffins. An amazing thing: he uses only an ax for his works to create coffins in the forms of birds, fishes, people, the Bible, cars, dragons, and so on. Usually, he uses the soft wood of wawa (in Ghanaian obeche), but for foreign customers (museums of USA collect such coffins as examples of African arts) he uses cedar due to wawa tends to rot. I used to see this kind of wood in my work. Also, I made my account on Safebook, I can see your photo here :) near mine and added him to friends..then his daughter, many friends sent me his friend invitations. Now I have many Ghanaians as friends. They have a simple life. The sculptor is simple too. I like it. But I am not sure I am ready to spend much time having conversations with all of them. But luckily he is not one who likes to talk much. And all those people I accepted as friends have not written me a word yet except greetings from his daughter. Also, one guy wrote: "Good afternoon, ma!" I like that they all are believers. The belief makes people richer.

About Kaoru, I told you I blocked him because I liked him very much. He did not. He told me he loved my personality and I am his special person but he is not for romantic relationships. I preferred to close any talks here. He hurt me a little.
The message - 237-
10/06
And the other Japanese who loves "to walk together" with me virtually says he is falling in love. I told him I don't like him. I have an Arabe I like. He sent me his address, for I promised him to write a letter. As I figured out, he cannot speak English at all, uses Google translator. I don't see any reason to talk with him, but I will write him the letter in Japan, without giving him my back address, because this letter was my offer as a back request after he asked me for my address to send me a gift (what he was going to send me? :) I don't want any gifts from him really). I feel something like compassion for him.

Another young guy invites me to Spain for adultery. It is funny. He sent me a video that I almost hate. I cannot imagine you sending me something like that.

He thinks he is very sexy. He is handsome but not attractive to me. I don't block him because he doesn't touch or hurt my heart and I feel condolences to him. He also sent me his child and teen photos and was always ready to talk. Sometimes I need it. Also, we can speak openly about sex without being ashamed.
And other one young Arab was hypocritical. So I named him and all Arabs stupid, it was enough for he left me alone. STUPID is the most horrible word for an Arab given by a woman. Japanese people always agree and make jokes about that. But they hate when someone directly shows something they are not good at. They all are really cool. Most of all I like Japanese now..but I didn't find a fit one. I miss my Japanese Arab. Bye.