It was a summer afternoon Istanbul. In a not so crowded movie theater I watched Akira Kurosawa's Dreams. The movie was a compilation of 8 short films, arranged as a series of his dreams or fantasies, starting with his childhood ones.

In those days I didn't know much about the Japanese culture, folklore and myths. It was nothing like I watched before. Stunned by the beauty of the scenes, as well as the way each story talked about the changes in modern society, environment, wars and our destiny, I didn't realize how those 2 hours had passed.

The last of the 8 films was titled "Village of the Watermills." In that scene, there was a paradise-like village where death was celebrated and modernism was rejected. For a long time I thought that the scene was a shot in studios, and no such place could ever exist. To my surprise and great delight I was told by one of my friends that the place actually existed in Japan. It was a part of Daio Wasabi Farm in Nagano prefecture. Then last November we had a chance to go there.

It was a really strange feeling, the way I felt. It was as if I was still in the movie theater years ago, but transfered to the movie to live in it, defying time and space. Or it was some kind of rendezvous with the future, and there I was, keeping the promise.

I kept gazing at the slowly flowing water, not knowing whether I was still watching the movie or witnessing my destiny.

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