The Road Trip On Well-Known Roads

We were to go to Nagano this weekend, but it prooved impossible as most last minute ideas tend to be.

Instead, we did a road trip around the Noto peninsula. Shan and Perry came up from Komatsu, and I picked them up along with Judith and took them to Notojima Aquarium.

Judith and the Manta Ray that tried to take her life.

We showed up five minutes before closing, and stay far past our welcome by an hour. After that, we picked Craig (or Cwaig, as I call him after his name was misspelled at bowling, to which he retaliates with calling me my own misspelling, Alisor) and had yakiniku(grilled meat). Being with a vegetarian is difficult, especially in Japan, where they put fish in every sauce and seem to have a bizarre idea that bacon is not a meat. After we ordered everything that looked even vaguely vegetarian, we called it a night. That is, we called it a night once we figured out how to get home. I've driven that road a million times, and yet I get still lost. I told Bill this, and he said "of course you did. You are you."

The next day, we woke up very early, and made our way to the Mawaki ruins, which is really a man made park that stands as a memorial to the ruins that used to be there at some time. Time, and archaeologists had all but washed what was left away.

There, we met Rob, and he and Perry then proceeded to pummel each other in a deliberately choreographed fashion, leaving us three girls a little bored after wandering the park for two hours.

My deliberately dramatic shot of an epic dance-off.

Then, we went to Flatt's Bakery (owned by an Australian) and talked for about three hours. It was a wonderful thing, learning that I should not be intimidated as much as I am by Rob, and learning that Shan isn't as grumpy as she tends to pretend to be. Such casual revelations such as these are what I always hope for when uniting a group of people who don't hang out.

Next we went to Motojima Island off the tip of Suzu. It was fantastic for the 10 seconds I afforded it notice, but not nearly as fantastic as the park next to it that had zip lines and a wonderfully tall and intricate jungle gym. I actually made it to the top of it! It was an amazing feat, indeed, for one so lacking in dexterity.

Supposedly, it looks like a battleship. Shan was quite emphatic that it did not.

And then, yet again, we went home! That is, after I got lost... again. Eventually, I became so stressed out that Shan had to drive us home. Shan! She doesn't even live in the Noto! Bested in navigation by some one who looked at no map and had no idea where our starting point was. If I told Bill this, I'm sure he would say "of course. You are you!"

The next day, we went to the Wajima Morning Market. It was depressingly small, but interesting for the block of merchants that had decided to come. We were accosted by many people asking where we were from, and it was exceedingly difficult. "South Africa" I would say, and the women selling purses looked at them in surprise. "But their faces are different." After I tried to tell her about colonization, and failed miserably at it, I gave up and let her tell me how our eyes are different from the Japanese. "They are, aren't they?" was all I could say.

Listening to: Portishead
Eating: Brownies
Doing: nothing, but wanting to write well for once.

The Kids (cont)

These last two weeks have been irritatedingly disjointed, with my third-years taking tests, my second-years in Australia, and only me and one other English teacher trying to teach all of the English classes when there are usually five of us! Thus, I don't have any fresh impressions to give my about my students. However, I do know my 3-2 Oral class very well, so I shouldn't have a problem describing them.

3-2オ

Tetsuya is my best student, and has achieved the level that all of the other students should after six years of English education. Actually, to be fair, he has surpassed it, so it's unfair of me to compare my other students to him. He is excellent at understanding, and he has a natural talent for grammar. It's amazing watching him talk, because you can see him really thinking about what he wants to say, yet he never pauses for a second to try and figure out how to say it. He thinks in the moment, and knows that if used the wrong form to express himself, he can change the form on the fly. He does it so effortlessly!

Tetsuya is also, aside from Meccho, the most popular kid in school. After all, he was the Baseball Club captain, and a student council member (the highest positions in the social heirarchy). I find this strange since he's not particularly handsome. His leathered face is old looking, and he has peculiar, smiling wrinkles, like he had spent his entire youth in the sun. He is probably the least vain of my all my boys, but I still catch him walking into the background to check the volume of his spiky hair. He will go to Kansai DaiGai in Osaka, and insists that he wants to learn eleven languages, Spanish being his top priority.

Next Tetsuya is the other boy in my class, and one of my absolute favorite people, Shota. His English is what it should be for a lazy, but attentive boy. He never studies, but has a knack for all things school-related. He wants to be a musician, a guitarist in particular, which is a dream that his little brother, Naoyuki, also shares. I shall miss those two the most, I think, when I leave. Shota comes after school to talk about music with me, although I'm depressed that he doesn't like Muse that much. True, I didn't give him their best CD, but I thought it would impress him a little. Next, I'm going to see how he feels about The Strokes or Franz Ferdinand (the bands who are a lot closer to my heart than Muse is).

Shota is the master of communication translation. He may not be able to use words to express himself like Tetsuya, and he may not understand everything you say, but he senses the emotions of the speaker, puts it together with the words he knows, and their gestures, and then understands what they said. However, if you were to ask him to translate, he would be unable to explain but would insist that he understood exactly what you said. I have to be careful with him, though, because he laughes when he senses I told him a joke, even though he doesn't always get it.

I found out that he talks to all the teachers after school, and that he is Bill's favorite student too. When I asked why this was, Bill simply said "because he doesn't mind saying things are bullshit. That's why none of the other kids like him." I was so surprised to find out that Shota was so unpopular! In America, his personality, and his style, would instantly shoot him into school celebrity status.

The girls are the most fun loving in 3-2 home. Meccho is the most popular girl in school, and is dating a boy from 2-1, but I am to keep that a secret. I love her, because she grins mischieviously and says "secret, secret" while pressing her fingers to her lips. She's always late, but I think it's because she likes it when I scold her for it, and it gives her a great reason to give me guff when I'm late. Meccho's English isn't the greatest, but she is the master of gestures. It's entertaining, really, what she comes up with to get her point across, when all she had to do was pay a little more attention to vocabulary.

Meccho wants to be a wedding planner when she grows up, because it makes people happy. I wanted to say "Oh really, people are happy to be married?" jokingly, but I did not want to confuse the poor girl. She wants to marry her current boyfriend and have two girls and one boy, but insists that she never wants go back to the country. I agree, she was meant for the city, Meccho is.

Next to Meccho is Misa, the dumbest, sweetest, and dirtiest girl in school. The things she comes up with in regards to sex is always funny, but a little embarassing, seeing as I am supposed to be her teacher. Misa speaks about two words in English, and one of those words is always "yes" which she always uses when I talk to her. I think it's how she stops me from talking to her further. Her family owns the Shell station next to the school, and I'm always their patron.

Ahead of Meccho is Yuki, who is hard-headed, incredibly smart, and supremely lazy. So lazy that she failed my Reading test, a test that even Misa passed! Yargh. Yuki wants to be a baker, and is apparently very good at it. Last year, she won the prefectural baking contest, which makes her the pride of the school (along with Hayaka, who won a National Speech Contest). Bill says this is because Togi never wins anything. Yuki is somewhat jaded, and Etienne tells me this is because she went to Australian and found out what real boys were like, and she has become dillusioned about Japan. He did not expound further, and I felt it inappropriate to ask.

On the right side of the class room, in the front row, is pretty little Yuka, who is insecure about herself that it actually hinders what should come naturally to her. Her father is an English teacher, so she has a lot of expectations to meet, and she's doing ok by them, I think. Unfortunately, with people like Tetsuya and Megumi (who are inordinately good), it makes her so nervous that she'll make a mistake that she inevitably does. She failed two of her entrance exams, which confuses her because she knows that she's smarter than the other students. I wonder if it's because that she thinks just enough outside of the box that she overthinks what's inside of it.

Next to Yuka is Naomi, my little hair stylist. She will go to Kanazawa next year to learn how to arrange hair. I asked her if she would learn how to cut hair, and she shook her head with a horrified expression. "No!" She wants to live in the city, and wants to get married at 30 when she'll have children. One boy, and one girl. She's a smart girl, but English is not her priority, which is a shame, because she could become fluent with just a few more years. I hope she does not forget everything she so painstakingly learned as she starts her new life.

Behind Naomi sits Megumi, who is such a strong willed girl with such a pitiable life that I love her unconditionally, even though our interests don't align in any meaningful way. She was in a car accident as a child, and therefore has to go to the hospital a lot for surgeries. Also, she is the youngest of a Buddhist temple family, and must inherit it now because all of her elder siblings choose not to take on the family tradition. Now, she must go to Kyoto and study Buddhism. She can study English too, but it's impossible for her to double major. In the future, she hopes to work with an NGO or IGO, and help the other people in the world. I love her for this too.

What is the most endearing about Megumi is her hand gestures. When I have class debates, she is always the most vocal, and she moves her hands back and forth like a rapper calling another rapper out. And every now and then, I catch her head jutting forward to emphasize her point. I find myself wanting to have more debates just to watch her get gangsta on me again.

And last, but not least, is Hayaka. Her favorite class is Japanese, and took my class only because she's lazy and has a knack for languages. She's a little upset with me because I gave her a bad grade on her last speech, which is her forte. But, in my defense, it was too short, and she read it from a paper. Also, the speech was a little hard to follow.

Hayaka is a tall, leggy girl, who feels lucky that she's so tall, yet is always hunching like her height is excessive. She's only 5'6.

I have so much more to say about this class because I have them three times a week. However, for your sake, and my wrists (which risks carpul tunnal at this moment), I will sign off.

Alison is listening to: Talk Show Host by Radiohead.
Alison is eating: weightloss soup again.
Class was: Fantastic! I love 1-2A.
Alison is doing: her plans for her Nagano trip tomorrow. Monkeys in the onsen, here I come!

My Week at Random

I was trying to look pissed on purpose, but yet again, Shan beats me out for the prize. This is a picture given to me just today from Rachel Woodbrook's party. From left to right, Beth, James, Ali, Perry, and Shan.

Two things have happened since my last post--

1. A Very HAPPIE Christmas

Sunday, we had a Christmas Party for the Hakui Association for People Promoting International Exchange, and what a strange event that was. The foreigners, all Hakui people except for me, were divided so all the Japanese people could enjoy the novelty of talking to one. I mostly talked about how much I eat, and how I want to eat more. They may eat very little, but the Japanese sure do love food. I've noticed that no matter how bad their English is, they can always have a perfectly cogent conversation about lunch. There were two sketches done by the HAPPIE English classes.

One was The Algorithm March:

The whole march makes more sense at about 1:07, if ninjas ever make sense.

Owari! From left to right, Alicia, I don't know, Michiko, and David.

They also did a production of Snow White and the Dwarves. Nope, not seven. There were too many. So we were introduced to some new adjectives, like Hungry, and Stupid. I was roped in as the narrator, and I dare say, I did an excellent job.

The flash from the other camera is the fuzzy part on the picture. She made a great evil queen.

After that, we sang "Amazing Grace" (for reasons passing understanding), "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" and "Silent Night" a la midnight mass style. I tried to keep my candle burning, but it was to no avail because it was apparently too fun for the other guests to try and blow it out.

2. Survival of The Earthquake

Yes! There was an earthquake! Mom, if you're reading this, don't freak out. I survived it with much aplomb, and my house remains standing. I woke up a minute before hand, which makes me think that I must have Earthquake Spidey sense, and then all the sudden the ground lurched foward and shook for a few seconds. By the next morning, I had sworn that it was all a dream. But when Creep-sensei asked me about it, I realized that it had in fact happened.

I have one friend who was particularly pissed that he slept through it (I'll never understand deep sleepers) because he desperately wants to feel an earthquake. Sort of a dangerous sentiment, I think, and one I was in complete agreement with until that morning. I think I should never like to feel one again.

Alison is listening to: Hairspray playing in the background of her computer.
Alison is eating: omuraisu onigiri and weightloss soup.
Class was: boring because we watched a Charlie Brown Christmas.
Alison is doing: her Christmas Lesson, and trying to figure out how much candy she can give out.

Rachel Woodbrook's Ugly Sweater and White Elephant Potluck

Rachel Woodbrook, simply put, will likely remain on my list of favorite people long after we inevitably part ways. Her fashion sense, which is best described as out of the ordinary, is only a small shadow of how truly interesting she is. She held a Christmas potluck in her small apartment, and in crowded twenty five foreigners, all talking over one another in the loud American vernacular.

The present I received was this bizarre coin purse that looks like a skinned Ewok. When I said this, I was rebuffed quite emphatically.

The theme of the presents was "only in Japan" and I should think this fits the bill. This is the present I gave:

Awesome hat, and the weirdest stuff animal ever!

Alison is listening to: Pure Genius by Tweaker. Thanks Jenn!
Alison is eating: delicious grape jellies that are designed to cut appetite.
Class was: nonexistent.
Alison is doing: her novel.

The Kids (cont)

It is necessary that I preface these next few entries. While this journal is to keep my friends and family apprised of my life so I don’t have to write essentially the same email over and over again, it is also here for posterity’s sake, and so that I remember. Therefore, if you tire of my descriptions, ignore all of the posts marked “The Kids”.

12-B

12-B is funny class that I enjoy equally as much as 12-A. I like this class better only because I do not have to teach it with Horiaka-sensei, a man’s who charitable nature and affable smiles make it hard for me to say that his English ability is only a little bit higher than my second year students.

I realize that perhaps it would be best that I not have favorites at all, but human nature and all that…

Naoyuki, who is Shota’s brother, is another one of my favorites. He loves music, and desperately wants to follow in his brother’s footsteps. I find it incredibly cute how he writes his signature like his brother, complete with a picture of a smiling face and a guitar with a few music notes thrown in for extra measure, and how animated he is when talking about his favorite bands. Currently, he loves Sum 41 (much to fake excitement), but his favorite band is Elle Garden, a Japanese band that sings much of its songs in English. He’s trying to learn English with these songs, which I consider fantastic intiative.

Next to him is Takuya, an uninterested kid due to social circumstances more than anything else. Being invisible is high on his list of priorities, so English, as indeed all other classes, are unimportant to him.

The loudest student is Kento, who is the typical student uninterested in school and only in socializing. He doesn’t like me very much, but I think it’s because I’m truly frustrating. He brings back memories of my volunteer senseis in my Japanese class, whom I avoided for that self same reason.

Next to Kento is silent Masahiro, and behind him is the one who competes for that prize, Saeki. Neither are as successful with being invisible as Takuya is. Saeki is too handsome to be easily forgotten, and Masahiro is far too awkward.

Ryota, who sits in the far corner pines for Sakura, and confesses to me that he hates Christmas because he doesn’t have a girlfriend. I find him humorous looking if only for his butch face and body accompanied by his very girlie hair and sense of style. He is fun-loving, but easily frustrated.

In the front of the class room is his love, Sakura, who ignores him with all the tact of a grown woman. She was in love with Etienne, from what I understand, and likes me far less because of it. She is very pretty and cute, and is among my best English speakers. Apparently, she went from the worst in the class to among the very best. She has people like Kyousuke, and Chie to compete with though.

Next to her is Misaki, the girl who is too cool for school, and yet is somehow even cooler by attending it. She’s decent at English, and has a low raspy voice that I wish I had. She looks very fashionable, but stands like a boy.

Also in the front is Takahiro, another favorite. He is loud, and loves to announce random translations. When I say “for example” and he shouts, “Ah! Tatoeba!” I say “however”, and he duly says, “ah! Shikashi!” He is a quick learner, but victim of practicing things he had learned incorrectly. However (shikashi!), I do think that his enthusiasm will translate into future success.

Yuusei, who sits next my boisterous Takahiro, is a bizarre case. His answer to “how are you?” is always “sleepy”. I can’t disagree with his assessment, because he is constantly looking at me through half-lidded eyes, as if there are more interesting dreams painted on the other side. He lets Takahiro do all the work, although he is equally talented.

I’m not familiar with the last four girls. Chie is sporty, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. However (shikashi!)she is nice about it, which I like. Sakurako is incredibly vain, and is always checking her reflection in the TV screen. If only she knew how sickeningly pale she looked with all the cover up she uses. Behind them are Eri and Riho. Riho is a an anime fan, and seems rather embarrassed about it. Eri, on the other hand, is so reserved and quiet that I wonder if she walks on the air above us. She rarely talks, and has the worse pronunciation in the class.

Which reminds me... I think I shall have a pronunciation war. That should encourage them.

The students I want to come to 2-2 Oral class, as it is optional, are Kyousuke, Takahiro, Sakura, Misaki, Natsuko, Tadamichi, Yuki, Naoyuki, Ryota, Ryouta. My current 2-2 only has five students, which is nice, but I think more should be in the class

The Kids

Students, in Japan, are divided into different homerooms that have anywhere between 20 and 40 people. Togi is so small that it only has two homerooms for each year of students. I teach only 1-1 home, 1-2 home, 2-2 Oral, and 3-2 Oral. I have made a few friends in 2-1 Home and the only 15 people large 3-1 Home.

1-2 Home has the brightest personalities, all of whom I have been actively trying to tease out. The class is divided into two, so I only see one half at a time. I find this to be a godsend because they are easier to discipline in small groups, and I'm terrified to know what they are like if they have all of their friends with them.

12-A

My best student is a boy named Kyousuke, who is mentioned in a previous post as the boy who cried. He is the most studious, and he is continually coming up to me to tell me " teach me English, teach me English." It's very endearing. With him on my side, immediately all other students fall in line. I now see why teacher's in my experience were always friends with the popular kids. I never understood it, and certainly despised it, until now.

Kyousuke is a singer and guitarist, and he desperately wants a band. For this reason, and his adoration of English, he idolizes Tetsuya, my number one best student from the third years who shares the same interests. Kyousuke has bleached blond hair, which is a very big no-no, and continually wears his shirt tails outside of his pants. He tucks them in when a teacher tells him to, but then pulls them out when the teacher walks away. I always laugh when I catch him doing this, because he doesn't know whether he should tuck them back in or not. I'm relaxed about these things (I am American after all), so I don't care either way, but his indecision is always a source of mirth for me.

Next to Kyousuke is Yuki, the only student to pass the Step Eiken (National English Test of sorts). He is quiet, and terribly embarrassed most of the time, but his English is suitably good. I always think he looks funny, with his hair carefully preened, but looking overly processed. He wants the bad boy persona so badly, but is so prone to blushing that he can't achieve it. All he can do is stand unaware in the shadow of Kyousuke, hoping that people perceive him the same glorious, shining light.

Ahead of Kyousuke is another one of my favorite students: Tadamichi. He is always trying to speak English, but forgets how to connect the few words he knows into sentences. He's always excited, and is continually in a contest against Kyousuke to see who can do better. Although he's talkative, I like him because he's usually talking about something pertinent, even if it is in an attempt to be humorous.

Ayaka is the girl in this class that I really need to reach out to. She is decent at English, and therefore is lazy about it. I sense a kindred spirit in her, so I need to encourage her now before it is too late. Her apathy will stagnate her English ability, and then she will wonder why she isn't as good as the other students and then simply give up. I refuse to let this happen, but I am having trouble reaching her. Today was the tough love approach, when I made her the first person to do the presentation. When she did it completely wrong, I sent her to the end of the line and made her listen to every one else's and then do hers again. I like Ayaka, but I fear she can easily fall to the dark side.

Ryuutarou is simultaneously a glorious joy and a fantastic pain in the ass. He is loud, horrible at English, and hard to keep focused. On top of that, he is wonderfully handsome, and completely aware of it. There is no question in my mind that he has Attention Defecit Disorder. Trying to cope with that has been difficult, but I think I've begun to perfect the method. All one needs to do is chide him, but not in a way that embarrasses him. Being offhand in one's commands is the best way to deal with him because they seem more innocuous and aren't a direct challenge to his "badass-ness". Etienne tells me that is what Ryuutarou wants to be, and I don't doubt it. His best friend is Kyousuke, which is another reason I love having Kyousuke on my side. It makes Ryuutarou have to continually re-evaluate his participation in class.

On the left is Takeshi, a bizarre Picasso of boyish and girlish characteristics. He has a square face, but wide almond eyes with long lashes. His nose is a big strong nose, but his lips are plump and pink. He also has a bad case of acne, which he tries to cover up with concealer. No one seems to notice, and he is liked well enough. I like him, naturally, because he is respectful, and makes attempts to learn. With a little push, I could make him as good as Kyousuke. Unfortunately, he is unbelievably uncompetitive, so I would never be able to use him to spark the desire to win against him in any of the other students.

The others in class are of little consequence because they make themselves that way. Ryouta is very good at English, but is horribly shy. Kenta, who has to sit next to Ryuutarou and therefore has to be his partner, is so shy that he fears listening to English will embarrass him, so he shuts down immediately. I've been drawing him out more and more lately by asking him questions I know he can answer. Takahiro is reasonably good, despite the incident where he decided to take off his shirt in the middle of class, but he and Yuta prefer to sit back and let the class pass them by. Yoshihiko is so shy and butch it's adorable. His speaking is not very good, but he understands well. I wish I knew more about him. The girls are impossible to bring out in this class. Miku rides on Ayaka's efforts (which are called so only charitably) and Akina and Misaki are clueless. They are outcasts, so I feel that is the reason behind their awkwardness in class. Natsuko and Rina are also very good at English, but prefer to be like Takahiro and Yuta.

That is the class I just taught. It was difficult because I had to do it myself, but they don't seem to mind me repeating the English many times, or my muddling through bad Japanese translations of what I wish to say.

Listening to: Creep-sensei bother the other teachers. I am therefore seriously considering putting some Scissor Sister's on.
Eating: nothing! It's not lunchtime yet!
Class was: good, so far... but who knows how the next two will be!
Doing: this blog entry clearly.

Wake Up

The stories songs tell are often as dull and gray as the words that were jotted down. This song, however, has colored its story by making the music also have something to tell. The lyrics, together with the seamlessly changing melodies, and the passion of musicians creates a wonderfully bright fabric, despite the depressing thread the song takes.

Poor David Bowie. His heart attack was not kind to him. Admittedly, he looks better these days, but it's still is a tragedy to think how old he truly is, and listening to him sing this song makes my heart ache.

Listening to: The Good, the Bad, and the Queen's History Song. I'm sort of on a Damon Albarn kick these days.
Eating: a Kit Kat bar.
Class was: suitably educational.
Doing: nothing, actually.

Still Nothing To Write Home About

The weekend was far from eventful. Saturday, while I had initially planned to go to the random city of Toyoma for no other reason than I've never been there before, I decided to stay home and clean. It turned out to be a pointless affair. My house is cluttered already.

Saturday was spent sleeping, and then hiking in places that I feel none shall ever know in the near future. I have mentioned Ganmon before, and many of posts surround my visits there. A small part of Togi, with not even hundred people living in it, and I find it to be the most amazing place. Every time I go, I discover something new within its depths, be it the oceanside cliffs which one must scale with utmost care, the statue of the fire god, or the caves along the ocean side. Today, I discovered the mountain trail, which I foolishly followed all the way to Sanmyo (Three Mornings). Sanmyo, unfortunately, is a town completely on the other side of the district! I had been hiking for two and half hours without noticing it! This normally would not have been a problem except for the fact that the sun sets at 4 o'clock, and it was unfortunately only an hour shy of that. Needless to say, I ran as best I could (it was a mountain, after all) and took every sign that say ganbatte (try your best!) to heart.

That sign is telling that Ganmon is 3.7 kilometers away. I shouted "Ganbatteimasu!" quite emphatically at this sign.

I made it just before a thunder storm tore across the cliff sides of Ganmon and I went home.

Sunday was spent judging little English students. With so many deserving the prize, I felt horrible that only one could win. In the end, it was a bitter argument between the three judges, all dead set on their favorites. James was the winner in the end, only because I really hated Kawabata's choices. Judging is hard, I'm sure we all agree with that. But when the levels are so similar, it is impossible to make a decision, for you know that you might be discouraging the losing students to the point that they will never try again.

The enkai (party) at the end was suitably fun after I had to explain that I really can't stomach fish. They were very surprised to find that I was eating octopus, squid and eel though.

The American eating habits, especially that of a famously picky American, confound them.

The day ended uninterestingly as it started.

Listening to: Arcade Fire's Wake Up. God bless David Bowie for opening my eyes to other bands.
Eating: nothing! I'm sooooo hungry! What shall I have tonight? Omuraisu?
Class was: suitably uninformative.
Doing: her Christmas lesson plans and failing spectacularly.

Look everyone! I'm alive!

Look, I'm alive! AND COOOOOOOLD!

There isn't central heating in Japan, and it is unbelievably humid so the cold just sinks into your bones. I tried to trick the cold by wearing those bone gloves, but it was not amused.

I was going to write about the educational system, but I'm not really all that versed in it. I can only give my opinion replete with American bias. However, I can say that I never dreamed I would compliment the American system until I came here.

Today is obaa-san volleyball, and nothing sounds more awful than playing volleyball in the cold. I pray that by the end of this year I can find a sport that I can actually play, even if it has to be volleyball. But, something tells me, learning it from grandmas might not teach me how to play it very well.

The students are gone, and it is only me in the lonely teacher's office. I'm staring at the rain pound my car (which I drive only because I don't want to walk for five minutes in the freezing wet). I've never seen rain in winter, and I'm slowly learning that snow is far more preferable. At least it has the common decency to wait until you've entered a suitably warm room before it makes you wet.

In Which Alison Never Finishes What She Starts

Has anyone noticed that I never finish what I start? Well, I'm going to try and not let that happen. Every time this poor blog slips into hiatus, I'm going to grab its cold, stiff body from the river of my other inane --and let's face it, not very important-- activities and give it a breath of life. At least, I hope so. I will update at least once a week.

Now, if anyone so chooses, anybody can post a comment. So Grandma, Devin, Erick, and everyone else who cares about their beloved Alison's life, you can go ahead and comment! Yay!

Anyway...

Although, technically, I was supposed to be doing something on Sunday, I found myself with nothing to do and fretting the loss of internet. So, I did what I always do in such situations, left to go wander. Assuredly, there were many other things that required being finished, but I could not be bothered to do it. When one feels the inklings of depression --hormonally induced, naturally-- one does not choose to do such saddening and vile activities such as cleaning a very dirty apartment. I long for a dishwasher, or for someone to come over every once in awhile to force me to clean.

I took my car and traveled to Nanao, which I didn't actually make it to. I became ill in Nakajima, and barring I had little to no gas left, I choose to return home. Here are some photos of the (non) adventure:

Outside of what I think is the matsuri museum.

One of the many graves that are alongside the roads. This one is the prettiest I've seen.

All of the shoudo pictures one sees of Japan look very much like this. I never believed that it existed outside their imaginations.

Class has not been good lately. I just spent the day grading tests, and subsequently failing, all of my students. Days of the week, after three years of English, should not be difficult (although, upon reflection, I realize that I never learned them in French until college... I always assumed that I was a rare case), and weather should not be either! Body parts! I taught them. They played games about them! Why is it they suddenly can't remember? I'm told not to worry, that many of these students will drop out. But, all I can wonder at is, isn't that why we should be worrying?

But, that is a can of worms for another blog, one I will go into full detail tomorrow, as I have no class and no tests to administer.

Tata for now!

Alison is listening to: her heater desperately try to warm the room, and has therefore put Phil Collin's Against All Odds on to fit the mood.
Alison is eating: some sort of soy stirfry that turned out to be tolerable, at best.
Class was: alarmingly bad.
Alison is doing: her forgotten Japanese test.

The Superfluous Photos

6:30 in the morning, Hakui Station before my long journey to Nagoya. The crows were so foreboding that they nearly persuaded me to turn back.

I usually entitle this picture "Aryans in kimonos, the future is now!" but I realize it might be too esoteric for some. This was taken in the Osu district of Nagoya.

Ganmon is the town that those people are advertising. Do they look like they're having fun? Well, what if I told you that the cliffs are famous tourist stop? Suicidal tourists love to jump off of them.

This is... I actually forgot the name.. but it is just outside of Togi. It competely escaped my noticed until a few days ago.

Lunch was: karaage and garlic rice.
Class was: suitably good.
I'm listening to: Doctor Who Radio Plays. The 8th Doctor has a very sexy voice.
I'm working on: 1-1's test still.

The Nagoya Weekend

So! Nagoya! I went to Nagoya, ne?

Nagoya is a very big city, and not known for being a tourist destination. However, that did not stop Kristi and I from being tourists, cameras in hand, intent on being what Ezzie calls "happy snappy".

The first day was a little scary if only because the bus tried to drop me off at some random bus stop in the middle of nowhere. I begged, and pleaded, and managed to get to my real destination: Nagoya Eki, the busiest place I had ever seen. It's not a secret that I don't do well with crowds, so being in Nagoya was, indeed, a very trying experience. The rest of the day was spent learning how to use the subway system (people are right, once you get used to it, it's really easy), and looking for a place to have dinner. We chose Outback Steakhouse. It's funny, in the States, I never liked the place, yet here in Japan, it was surprisingly tasty. Go figure.

Saturday was far more eventful.

Kristi and I made our way to the Tokugawa Art Museum, which was surprisingly less interesting than the garden that was right next to it. However, it was entertaining enough to see the recreations of artwork whose colors faded long ago, even if they looked like they were painted by an amateur. Photos were prohibited, which is a shame, because there was an awesome map that had landmarks facing any which direction. I would loved to have walked into that word, walk through a forest and then on top of it has it flipped to face the South, swim the river with th

I forgot my camera, so here's a picture I took on Kristi's camera of the garden.

Check out how symbolic I am. Nature and modernity.

Too cool of a shot to miss. The koi were phenomenally large, and therefore a little disconcerting. I spent most of my time looking at them accessing my memory banks for any koi related deaths.

I have more photos that I will post later. On the way to the Asuta shrine, we stumbled upon a placed called the OZ Mall. On every radiator (called so only because they looked it), there was a statue portraying a scene from the wizard of OZ. Why? I haven't the faintest idea. The shops had nothing to do with OZ, which was somewhat upsetting because I wanted to buy some emerald glasses. If you want to see all of the statues, just email me.

I'm not sure why my face is so sour looking, but clearly that danish roll I was currently eating was vile.

Next, we went to the Atsuta Shrine, which we walked the entire length around before we could find the entrance, only to find that if we had just turned the right at the beginning, instead of left, we would have found it within three steps. I have no pictures, unfortunately, but I'll describe it the best I can.

There were three weddings being held. Two were traditional, with the bride sitting demurely under the hat that supposedly hides her horns, and the other western, with the bride smiling brightly. The guests were all dressed in somber blacks.

Also, there were women presenting their babies on the second month after their births, smiling happily for the camera while their husbands stood by, looking impatiently at their watches. They, and the brides, stood out amongst the cold steely gradients of people who swirled around them.

While I was there, I did the proper tourist-y thing and bought some charms. One will protect me from evil, supposing that I didn't lift its protection when I curiously looked inside the bag to see if they had actually written a charm, and another one that was marked "charm for news." I'm not exactly sure what that means, but armed with the knowledge that that they wouldn't sell anything extremely bad, I threw caution to the wind and bought it. After that, we went to Sakae and wandered around. I found a copy of Horatio Hornblower at the foreign bookstore, but could not get myself to spend 20 dollars on it when I know I could get it at a used bookstore when I go home.

While we were looking for a restaurant, we stumbled upon this creature. Cool as he was, he did not successfully entice us into the his restaurant.

Sunday, my last day, we went to Osu Shopping District, which is right next to Osu Kannon, a Buddhist temple. Like a good tourist, I bought a bull charm since I was born in the year of the bull. As always, it did not look as cool as the other charms, but I decided that no bull charm will ever look as good as the others. A bull simply cannot be a rabbit, a rat, a tiger, a sheep, or a dragon. I have to accept my Chinese zodiac as is, I realize. I wondered, and still wonder now, which charm sells the most.

You could smell this temple for miles, the incense was so strong.

Right next to this is the shopping mall. It's really quite a nonsequitur. The shopping was the most enjoyable of all the shopping I've done in Japan. Also, it was the best food I had eaten, which was entirely too much. I had karaage (fried chicken), okonomiyaki (a sort of egg, cabbage pizza), a cheese soufle, a vanilla milkshake and french fries, and takoyaki (a sort of octopus dumpling that is DELICIOUS!). Wow! And I was full after the karaage!


In Japanese, the word betsubara means second stomach. It's said when you will still eat something even if you're full. For example, amaimono no betsubara means you have a second stomach for sweet things. No matter how full you are, you will still eat some sweet things. The people at the office joke that I have tabemono bestubara which means I have a second stomach for food. Funny, but a little cruel, I think.


After Osu, I went home after a four-hour bus ride, an hour train ride, and an hour car ride. I fell asleep long before I knew that I had even gotten into bed.

Lunch was: Chicken Fried Rice and Anpan
Class was: so-so.
I'm listening to: King of Pain by The Police
I'm working on: 1-1's listening test.

To Nagoya!

Sickness comes at the most incovenient of times, does it not?

Currently, I am horribly sick, but I have already purchased my tickets to go to Nagoya, and reserved my hotel room, so nothing will stop me from going! I am, however, going to be forced to purchase one a surgical mask as I will be riding a bus for four hours. It would not be fair for me to give all of those passengers this sickness, but I'm going to feel ridiculous wearing one of those masks.

I'm not sure what I'll be doing this weekend, but I hope that I will be well enough to enjoy it.

The Tragedy!

I completely forgot to celebrate the Battle of Trafalgar this year! How could I forget! It's nearly a month past, so no belated festivity is possible now. I shall have to wait until next year, or find something else that is suitably obscure to celebrate. When was the Battle of the Light Brigade? I suspect that is also October...

Tomorrow was the birthday of Prime Minister William Pitt the Elder. Maybe that would be fun.

Japan's Hidden Scenery

Two sumo wrestlers at the Hakui matsuri.

This photo is long overdue. It the only that is completely embarrassing in composition and lighting. I still have not succeeded in discovering how to shoot in the nighttime.

This is from the Sumo competition at the Hakui matsuri. I took Rachel, and we met Tom there. To my surprise, many other JETs were also there. I remember very little of the night, except that I ate entirely too much, and I missed the last sumo match, which apparently was rigged.

And now the present. Having finished the last episode of Horatio Hornblower, whose absence of new episodes now leaves an inexplicable hole in my heart, I decided to go and explore Togi. This of course means danger like never you knew! I should never have brought my camera, it made my life so much harder.

To get to this beautiful place, I had to climb many a cliff. In fact, that cliff right pictured right there was among them. Never had I felt so keen of acrophobia until today, but I mastered it by exercising the caution that I typically do not bother to use.

The coast of Togi, and a very steep cliff that I had to climb down, and subsequently up again.

All over Togi are parks that are hidden behind the indeterminably thick forests of bamboo mixed with pines, and all manners of bushes. They come out of nowhere, and are always serene and somewhat lonely. This shot was taken before one actually moves beyond the bush to see the clearing. It was taken to demonstrate how surprising these park's presence truly is.

An unnamed clearing a little north of Ganmon.

I did more, but I lack the energy to tell of it. Tomorrow, when I wake up I shall post more photographs. For now, I hope you enjoy.

Water Heaters and Volleyball

It happened Tuesday night. I was cold, and in desperate need for warmth. Armed with the brilliant idea of taking a bath, I stepped into the icy cool of my bathroom, intent on drawing one. When it was filled up, I shed my clothes, and stepped into the water that must have been a degree above freezing.

My water heater was broken, and it was winter.

Was I going to cry? No. Did I want to? Not yet, but I knew that it would soon become a likely outcome.

So the next day, I tell my supervisor, who calls my landlady. It turns out that the water heater is an oil burning heater, and it was simply out of oil. Praise be togod! Two days later, the warm water returned. No more showers at Nick's house. No more mornings of feeling cold, and staying cold. Life is, officially, ok again.

Last night, I went to the Obaa-san (grandmother) Volleyball game. There were very excited to have me, but curious to why I didn't play. I forgot the word for clothes, so I couldn't explain that jeans and a sweater were hardly athletic clothing. Also, Volleyball and I, just simply don't get along. It hurts the arms, and more importantly, it incapcitates ankles very easily. So, instead I watched, which is something I enjoy doing. I did not bring my camera because I thought it might make them uncomfortable. But, I think next time I think I will.

More Boring Information

It is Saturday, and I am at work. As my own personal revenge, I have decided to not actually work on my down time and write this blog entry instead.

Currently, my students are learning weather, and rather fortituitously, I should add. The weather in Japan has been hodge podge lately, so every day I ask "How's the weather?" they are forced to say a different answer.

Life has finally become familiar in Japan, and I feel like I am at home. I miss some things, naturally, like dogs, being able to understand most words that come out of peoples mouths, and macoroni and cheese, but, in general, I like it here.

Of course, this is ignoring the fact that all stores close here at the annoyingly early hour of seven, so one must get one's grocery shopping done during the peak hour of six o'clock. Yet, the convenience store is open 24 hours. I wouldn't need that convenience if stores stayed open until nine, quite frankly. Consequently, after seven, Togi becomes silent. Everyone retreats to their houses, and stay there as they have no excuse to leave it.

I'm discovering that I miss people that I never thought I would miss, but am fine with other's "absence" in my life. It is an eerie feeling.

Today, in any case, I will be going to Hakui to visit Travis who is working the International Fair. What will happen, I have no idea, but I'm sure we will have fun.

A Short Update to Confirm that I am still Alive

Life in Togi has been without adventure. I got my new computer last Saturday, and have spending my time fighting it since then. When one is accustomed to a certain system, it's always hard to adjust. Unfortunately, I was not as young and spry as I had originally thought myself to be, and I find myself staring blankly at Window VISTA, wondering at it's complexity.

I will, however, go on a walk today, in search of adventure. However, roads in Togi are pretty dangerous, so I'm trying to decide which is the safest place to walk to.

The Month of Hiatus is Nearly at an End

In one day, my life in Japan was changed dramatically, and I was reduced to a hermitage that is reserved only for those who seek such a life. Their reasons, as usual, passing any comprehensible understanding.

I finally got the internet. Three glory-filled days of it was all I was allowed to taste when fate cruelly knocked my computer off of the table. Blaming myself for the accident is too much to bear, so deflecting is the best thing I can do in order to survive this month of undending despair. That same day, I recieved an email that told me that my dog had died.

Bentley was a good boy. I have lost all of my pictures of him, but I will describe him the best I can. He was a gigantic yellow lab, with a mammoth head, and long, dangling jowels. Most importantly, he was stupid. His ignorance granted him an air of amiability, as if he were incapable of such a complex emotion as hate. He was always excitable, and loved to have anyone pay attention to him. That being said, he did have favorites, and I am proud to have been one of them, although I had originally hated the poor thing when I had first met him years before.

The unthinkable happened. My big, friendly dog attacked my brother's girlfriend. They say it was a brain tumour, and it triggered something in his brain. She only survives because Corbyn, the puppy that had always been by Bentely's side, defended her. Animal control was called, and Bentely became no more.

I have a weak constitution for grief, so I visited the bathroom many times in an ill vieled effort to hide my emotional side. Most thought I went there for the shallow reason of my computer breaking. I could not bring myself to correct them.

I find that exercise in these situations is the best way to release all which is pent up inside. So, in order to blow off steam, I go to the volleyball club's practice. Promptly, I sprained my ankle in under eight minutes of play. I could not drive anywhere, I could not walk anywhere. I spent three days in an apartment watching Japanese television and reading the same book over and over again.

Monday came like a breath of fresh air, which assuredly, it rarely ever does.

After that, I have been inflicting my self on all walks of life, preying on their kindness as a means to entertain myself. I visited the Ninja Temple with Majeed, went to a birthday party I don't actually think I was invited too, and call people up nearly every day to see if they will allay some of my boredom. Rachel is the usual victim, and she finds herself being asked to come over nearly every day, at every hour. She is one of the fortunate who has many excuses for she is very popular.

I know that I should be productive in these idle hours, but I find it difficult to have a desire to write without the speed and alacrity that a computer provides. However, I have decided to endeavor to at least write a short story by hand, and keep working even if the self same hand protests.

Expect updates. My new computer will shortly arrive, I'm sure.

Sunday was the day reserved for Kagaonsen. I went with Alessandro, Tammy, and Andrew. I was very nervous about the day because I was convinced that Alessandro was hitting on me, but I’m not exactly sure if that is the case anymore. Tammy was very nice, and took some photos for me. Her boyfriend was also very nice, but a little quiet. How they felt about me, however, I cannot rightly say.

From left to right: Ali, Alessandro, Andrew

I’m not even sure how I got to Kanazawa, but I feel quite proud that I did. The entire event was completely from the seat of my pants. At first, I thought I was

going to take a bus, but I could not find the damn bus schedule for the life of me. It is as if the existence of Togi’s bus station is so tentative that it does not take any great pains to assert itself. It is almost as if it were a lone bus station, where buses come and leave for no readily discernable reason. Instead, I drove to Hakui Station, where the train comes. Then, in very bad Japanese, I got a train ticket. The train, while it cost about ten dollars, was faster than taking my car! Needless to say, I was quite impressed with it.

Then, at Kanazawa Station, I met Alessandro, went shopping for birthday presents, and lost my phone. Of course, I had not realized that I lost it until we were on the other side of the gate. So, I just shrugged it off because that’s what I always do, and resolved to forget about it until after we came back.

Kagaonsen is home to a gigantic golden statue that loomed over the train. I am told that the people of the town hate it, but can nothing about it because it is privately owned. It reminds me of dad’s antenna that we used to have in Meadow Station. The only difference is that when the neighbors complained, we were forced to take it down.

From the train station, the view of the statue.

We went to this beautiful temple. Words do not describe it's beauty, and photos cannot full capture it, however:

Ali Complains it All

My weekend was eventful, and this weekend looks to be shaping up to be the same.

The first adventure was all because I wanted to be able to walk around my house in my underwear. However, I did not have curtains, and living in the center of town, I felt it prudent to keep my skin concealed. Changing clothes was always a hassle too for I always had to go to the one spot where no one could peer into, which also happened to be in an uncomfortable corner by my china cabinet. So, I decided on Friday to go to Tsubata and get the curtains Joe was trying to get rid of. In the process, I thought I’d visit Travis, a boy I was instantly fond of since the moment I talked to him on the phone.

It was a rather blasé night, which are always my favorite kinds of nights. We went to a yakitori (grilled meat on a stick) place and had a few drinks. Naturally, I didn’t, but that is because I’m always the designated driver, and I absolutely hate the taste of alcohol. Mostly, the four of us talked about what a ladies man Joe is, and argued about whether or not the law should be used to protect French culture in Quebec. Much to the dismay of the proprietor, we stayed for an hour past closing. Being a waitress in a past life, I was very embarrassed to have done so. I always hated people who stayed for too long when I wanted to go home.

I drove Joe and Hide (a Japanese guy who is nice, but comes off little creepy in a “it puts on the lotion on the skin” sort of way) back home, and then made my way back on the silent roads to Togi. At two o’clock, I laid my weary head to rest.

At eight o’clock, I was forced to wake up to go to a charity event in Monzen organized by the infamous Kojima-sensei.

There is no one I hate more than Kojima-sensei. He is always talking to me, and asking if I understand English words, which I always have to shake my head and say no to because his pronunciation is so bad. Then, he announces to the whole office that the stupid American girl doesn’t know her own language. “What a bad vocabulary.” Unable to take it, I finally stood up and told him I can’t understand him because his pronunciation is so bad. Although I was very angry, I realized that I got some perverse pleasure in telling people off in Japanese. When I was finished, he proved to be slightly embarrassed, but undeterred. He still talks to me everyday.

Kojima’s vocabulary is very good, but his grammar is very bad. Therefore, he only can say words, but cannot connect them together in any coherent manner. This, with the fact that I have no earthly idea what he’s trying to say makes it a frustrating and irritating time. Fortunately, everyone in the office is worried about me and they have started to take steps for my protection from the horrific presence of Kojima.

Fujita, my desk mate, asks me random, important-sounding, questions whenever Kojima solicits me to translate impossible hard phrases into Japanese. He also lets me ask him random, important-sounding, questions if he’s passing by. Fujii has lent me his desk, which he often refers to as heaven, on my off periods. He calls it heaven because no one can see it, and he can pretty much do whatever he likes. His desk is the envy of all the teachers, and I desperately want it now as well. Lastly, Bill lets me hang out in his office during morning and afternoon Kojima sneak attacks, when I am not expecting him.

Let it be known that I am not nearly so cruel that I would hate a man for just practicing his English. There are many other reasons. He, for example, is a sexist bastard. With great relish, he tells me that women are the number one worst drivers, and that drunk drivers are second. I would normally take it as a joke, except I know that he doesn’t understand the concept of sarcasm. Also, he insists that it is a kotowaze (ancient Japanese proverb), which means he believes in the acumen of such a phrase.

The problem is that I can never say no. Never. It’s impossible for me. And if it the event is volunteer work in an earthquake stricken area, I certainly can’t say no. He asked me about it all week, and tried to explain what I was going to do, but refused to do in Japanese. So, up until that point, all I knew that I was going to Monzen at 9:00.

I arrived where I am supposed to, by the grace of god more than any real idea of where I was going, and I find there are two old men sitting in the room I am ushered into, with some middle school students fidgeting nervously in their chairs. I try to speak Japanese, but they look at me as if I were sputtering nonsense. I think they understood more than they let on, but I certainly was not talking in tongues, in any case. Finally, they are joined by two old ladies. Mind you, I still had no idea was going on.

Then, the middle school students and their teacher start to sing. It was quite beautiful, although I still did not understand what was happening. After twenty minutes, Kojima brings me up to the front and has me say stupid jokes like “this snake is very heavy.” The joke is because the Japanese cannot pronounce the word heavy, so they pronounce it hebi, which means snake. Then, he sends me away, and starts to perform magic that even a sixth grader could figure out. It was then that I realized that the Elderly appreciation day was on Monday, so we were there to cheer up the elderly who were affected by the earthquake. Instead, however, I think Kojima patronized them as if they children. I was so embarrassed I could hardly look at anyone.

I left early. Although I toyed with the idea of bothering my supervisor at work because I was bored, I went home and proceeded to sleep for a few blissful hours. I was too lazy to cook, so I only ate snack food and coke, which was probably not a good idea since my throat had been hurting for days, and I was likely coming down with something.

Then, I went to Nakajima, not after being accosted by Aki (Ishihara-san’s daughter), which made me late. What made me even more late was that I went the wrong way on 249. Then, I went the right way, but ended up driving around Nakajima for twenty minutes looking for the damn theater. The drama of the previous post started that Saturday night.

Used

I'm being used, and I hate it. What I hate more is that I'm sure enough that I actually am able to confront the problem like I want to. If only I had the courage to cut through the bullshit red tape that strangles relationships. I like to fancy myself as someone who can read people easily, but I have been out of my element here in Japan (likely due to cultural differences), if even I had a element to begin with.

In any case, it is no secret that Okayama-sensei likes my supervisor. However, whether he likes her not remains to be a mystery. "And, what is the problem?" you ask. The problem is that she is getting chummy with me specifically to get closer to him. I really should not be complaining, because now she invites me up for strawberry JELL-O, to go to plays, and really wants me to join her Home Ec class. I love food, so I can't turn that down.

Yes, the problem isn't evident. But let me explain last weekend:

Last weekend (which will be elaborated on further in the next post) was the weekend of the play that Okayama-sensei invited me to. Bill was also going, so I ask him to make sure I don't forget to ask for directions before I leave work. Instead, he comes by and says that we'll just meet here in Togi because he has to work anyways, and he'll drive me it to the play. I hate driving the road towards Nakajima, so I'm quite glad of this turn of events.

However, Saturday rolls around, and he finds out that he has to go to Tokyo to accompany a student at a speech contest. Matsuura-sensei, who was supposed to be with her, had to return home because he is a priest, as well as a teacher, and someone had died. So, I'm given directions (which were very bad, I might add), and bid good luck.

I was twenty minutes late after driving the same stretch of road nearly forty hundred times. The frustrating part was that the theater was only a few blocks away from where I was! Thank god the conbini where I asked for directions at was not closed.

The play was funny, but I only understood a little of it. I wish I could better understand polite forms. In any case, I had to leave very quickly because I was illegally parked, so I think Okayama-sensei is doubtful that I even went. I tried to drop enough names so that she could know that I did see it. Whether that was sucessful or not, I'm not sure.

Where is the drama, aside from the play, then? She comes down specifically to tell me it was a date with Bill. At first I thought she was insinuating that it was supposed to be a date for him and me, which makes me say no a few times. Then I realize what she is talking about, and tell her how sorry I am. "Shikatta ga nai" (it can't be helped) she said, although the tone of her voice indicated that clearly that she felt the opposite.

This is where I feel particularly used. If this was truely a date with Bill, then why would he take me in his car, and fail to mention to me that it was a date with Okayama? Furthermore, if he took me, I would naturally assume I would get to sit next to him and hang out. That would make a date fairly awkward, now, wouldn't it? And there I would be, sitting like Shusaka Endo's Obakasan, completely unaware of it the damper I put on the evening.

It is the most bizarre feeling, being used by one to get closer to the other, and being used by that self same other to put up a barrier against the one. I'm pissed off enough that I decided to not talk to either of them, like a child. However, so far, the plan has not suceeded.

Nothing to Write Home About

I am very behind, yet I have many tales to tell. None so interesting that I will give them the lengthy description that I usually do. I need to stop trying to make adventures out of mere bus trips, I realize.

I went to Suzu again two weeks ago, and that was nearly the same experience as the last time. Not realizing just how far out of the way I was, Travis, from Kahoku, picked me up so I could go to the party. He thought I lived in Shika-machi, which is technically true, but found I lived a full thirty-minutes further than that. What made matters worse was that as we tried to journey to Suzu, we ended up taking back country roads.

When I say back country roads, I'm sure the image of dirt roads in the middle of nowhere comes to mind. However, in Japan, the imagery is altogether haunting. Travis and I were beginning to wonder if there were such things as Japanese rednecks who attack cars and scratch their belly while chewing out the words, "I want the one with the beard. He's perdy." We also began to speculate that there were likely Children of the Rice, an equivalent to our Children of the Corn. Back roads in Japan are horrible, twisting rollercoaster rides that are wide enough for only one car to pass. Couple this with zero visibility due to sheer height of the trees that line the road, it is, indeed, a hair-raising experience. Everynow and then, we pass through a town that was only three or four houses long with one lone vending machine seeming to be the only thing to illuminate the place. Just as we left one town was when we met our first car, and then promptly tried not to meet it so completely that we would be two cars smashed into one bizarre mess.

By the end of the trip, Travis was shaking with adrenaline. When we finally reached a major road, he stopped the car, opened the door, and then proceeded to dance around it. Then, without a word, he buckled up and sped off down the road towards Suzu.

The party itself was okay. I drank very little, fell asleep, and hitched a ride back to Togi with Davin. There were two memorable moments: Damo peeing himself, and the JTE of Suzu's High school falling off his chair, mid-snore, and then puking in the sink.

A few days later, I realized that I was absolutely sick of cooking for myself. So, I dropped by Nick's house, banged on his door loudly, demanding that he put pants on and go to dinner. The food was delicious, if not a little expensive, and I found out how to order a pint of beer. I regaled, or more likely, bored, Nick with tales of Togi. One of which was the world's ex-longest bench. Until that day, I had not found it. Together, we struck out, and it turned out to be exactly where I thought it was, and yet, the last place I would have looked. In general, I'm never right about that sort of thing.

There is something romantic about the bench not being the world's longest, but the ex-longest bench. At one point, the bench, of which I walked the entire length, used to be pristine and loved. It was the only that gave Togi any claim to fame. Now, it barely supported my weight in places, and half of it is ill-kept with grass growing through the slats. What it was before was nothing special (as if they built it, and realized, "hey, this bench is pretty long"), but now it is only an artifact of something that was nothing that special.

My last adventure was to Nanao. One day after I recieved my car, I decided to adventure to the faraway place to visit my friend Judith and to eat at the Fish and Chips place. It was fun, but nothing to write home about (although it is clear that I invariably am). I bought a futon, some new clothes, notebooks, and some CDs. The Fish and Chips place was closed because there was a dance concert of traditional dance and modern dance fusion. My camera, and my ability to shoot at night, did not give these dances justice:

I love life sometimes.

The Crazies (cont) Sport's Day

Today was Sport's Day, an event that the teacher's seem less than interested in. There boredom is written as clearly on their face as if I had taken a marker and wrote it there for them. Of course, on the list of disinterested sensei's, Bill tops the list. We get lunch together, and he makes sure to drive all the way back to school, as if he wants to avoid all the noise and rabble rousing. I didn't mind, mostly because he gave me a delicious tofu snack that tastes like pudding.

No one told me what was happening today, so all the sudden I look up from my computer at the Home Ec teacher, who points out the window. "Sanka suru? (Are you joining them?)" she asks. To my horror, I see teacher's leaving in droves, and students mounting the stairs of a bus. "Where?" I ask, frightened, wandering with my eyes rolling around the office. Just as they turn off the lights in the teacher's office, I grab Fujii. He says he'll take me with him, but to where, he does not elaborate. Again, I ask "where?!" There is no reply. I'm starting to wonder if it is some convaluted plan to kidnap me. Then I remember that I'm not worth anything, and quickly dismiss the idea that festers in the romantic synapses of my mind. Instead, I end up at the community gym, alive and whole, andsurprisingly enough, not held for ransom.

I always hear these fascinating stories about Sport's Days, and how there bizarreness has confounded many a foreigner. For my part, everything made sense. They played Tug o War (which I participated in), played mass jump rope, and did three-legged races. The only race that was slightly out of the ordinary was the race that required the students to spin around a baseball bat ten times, then dizzily make their way to a pan of flour where they had to pick a piece of candy out with their teach. Then, with their faces ghostlike, and somewhat creepy, they get a piece of paper that says what their partner should be like. They then have to find a partner, tie their legs together, and then make it to the finish line. It was altogether very interesting.

I have not yet had chance to talk about Fujita-sensei, and although I spoke to him little today, I think a description is in order.

Fujita sits next to me in the office, and is the head of the first year class, second homeroom. Apparently, he was very good friends with Etienne, and it makes me a little sad that I haven't yet achieved that status. I do my default of doing stupid things around him so he thinks that I'm not scary. My plan hasn't suceeded yet. MyMr. Bill told me today, with great relish, that I scared the crap out of him initially, and joked that I made him pee his pants. "You're an awkward person, aren't you?" I respond.

Fujita is very good friends with Fujii, and completes the "cool trio" of teachers (Okada, Fujii, Fujita). When I told him my brother's age, he became very excited because it was the same as him. Since my brother isn't always the most mature person, I found it odd to be in an office setting with a twenty-six year old. I mean, surely, that's not grown up enough, right?

Who Fujita is would make a great story in a novel, if he already has not been. He is a math teacher who he says he likes the incomprehensible subject because the order of it all is simply beautiful. This order he loves so greatly is put into practice by leading the brass band after school. I find that I admire him for being so mathematical, yet inspired.

This is not enough to make him a character worthy enough to write about, although I think that it is intriguing at the very least. What I find so interesting is that he enters all purchases so he knows his finances down to the single yen. He even enters in a 100 yen purchase of a bottled water into his excel document. I had never thought such anal behavior from such a seemingly normal person could exist! He also has three cellphones, one for each Japanese company (au, Softbank, DoCoMo), with a compartmentalized purpose. Such extremes are only reserved for fictional characters, yet here he is, existing in the real world, existing in the same office, existing in the chair next to me. I wonder if he wonders at my existance. How could such a messy girl exist? I never keep track of my money, and my desk is a trove of papers which I must excavate before every class to find the necessary worksheets. Surely, no one could be as messy as I.

I feel as if ying and yang.

The Crazies (cont.) At the School Festival!

The school festival is today, and I must say that it is a bit bewildering. How a festival works is so ingrained in their society that they don't even think they have to explain it to a foreigner. It makes sense, naturally. Silly foreigner.

I ate entirely too much delicious food. The yakisoba was the best I had ever tasted, and the karaage was wonderfully fatty. I had two doughnuts that were beyond tasty, and rivaled that of an American doughnut. Until now, I was under the mistaken impression that nothing could outdo the glorious taste of an American doughnut, but I was wrong. So very wrong! They dissolved in my mouth like a precious nectar, and like that, the taste was gone and I was left wondering at its glory. Would I ever taste anything so heavenly again? I decided not to buy a second box, in honor of the first box's memory (and also because I did not want to completely betray my diet).

I met who I think is Fujii's girlfriend today. Her english was not very good, but I finally understood that we were going to go see a drag show. A drag show? I thought incredulously. Surely the Japanese are far too uptight for that. As I walked to the gym, I saw three of my students, who were, by the way, the most masculine in my third year, looking like bizarre Picasso's of a girl.

"Tetsuya?" I asked, my confusion painted on my face as prominently as his lipstick and mascara.

The boy snickered, and nodded. "Aren't I beautiful?"

The were paraded on stage, asked their favorite type of man, and what kind of date they would go on. Strangely, the boys were brave enough to down the clothing of the other sex, yet not brave enough to answer the questions into the microphone. Then five girls were asked to go up and stage and give a banana to their favorite girl. Most of the boys thanked them for their prize, but others were more creative.

"I'm so happy." One's rich baritone says, clearly making fun of the typical girl in a drama.

The other, I could not understand, but his prepubescent crack in his falsely emotional voice led me to believe he was trying to be funny. Everyone laughed at him, in any case.

After that, I watched the bands and karoake, where I got to know a little more about Okada-sensei.

Initially, I did not sit next to her, but instead gradually drifted over to her sit by sit because I kept wanting to say some innocuous comment, and hated that there was no one to listen to me. We talked about how the singer was really bad. Then Okada-sensei, being the nice girl that she is, said that maybe, the stereo was broken. The guitarist, Shota, on the other hand, was excellent, and I wished that he wasn't stuck with clearly second rate players. The next band that played was all about drama. One of the actual members could not preform because his hair was too long, and he had dyed it, which is an awful big no-no, even at a low academic school like Togi. The crowd cried "Kyousuke! Kyousuke!". He came out, with tears in his eyes, and thanked them for coming, and expressed how much he wished he could be performing with his band. I had never seen anyone so emotional but something that was clearly their fault. I may not agree with the strictness of the rules of appearance in Japan, but the boy knew the consequences. Perhaps his tears were the tears of someone trying to be free, but feeling the constriction of society's bars press up against his chest he reached out for the sky.

Okada-sensei is very kind, I realize. I told her that follow her like a puppy, and she laughs at the idea, but lets me follow her anyways. In my heart of hearts, I know I'm seriously taking down her cool points, but then again, I've made it my mission make her english better. I already think it has improved leaps and bounds since I have come. I'm embarassed to say this, but I seem to think it to be a better idea to teach the English teacher's English, rather than the students.

I wish I could describe her properly, but I know very little about her. I know that she leaves close to the drummer of one of the bands that performed today, and that she learned the trick of fanning two people at once from her ex-boyfriend. This trick was much appreciated by me today, as I kept forgetting my damn fan. In America, one usually thinks that fans are useless. But here in Japan, I have learned that their usefulness is so great that it is nearly ineffable.

I hope that after today, I have endeared myself a little more to Okada-sensei. It sounds very dorky to say it, but I hope that we become friends.