I have walked quite a bit today.
No visitors will be allowed on November 3 which is Meiji-Setsu holiday.
This is because of “difficult and dangerous conditions,’” says Mr. Yamato who has become a permanent member of the early garden crew, the shovel and hoe gang, and who tells Jo Smith he used to be “that brown” too when he worked in garden in Japan.
The Department of Education is preparing a record card for each high school student, showing marks and academic credits to date, for the student to take with him. Instructors’ names and academic experience, addresses, etc. are included on the card.
Since coming into Concentration and during my recent illness I seem to have become more “aware.” I can put myself into people’s minds and into their troubled hearts better than before. I can appreciate beauty more too, whether it is the mountain, a baby goat or a sensitive spirit. Appreciation has been growing, ripening, into more clear-cut understanding of everything, no matter how sad or disturbing. I have come through to another side, and though it is only like a beginning, | feel very much alive.
I only hope Marie keeps on looking after Nida. Rice is P5,000 a sack, sugar is 1,000—which used to be 25¢. Eggs are P10 a piece, P120 a dozen. Poor, poor people outside! What vast suffering there must be. But the Japanese admit planes over Luzon. Everyone is hungry. Hunger colors every move, every conversation.