Kyoto - Land of Shinsengumi and Humping Dogs

It's been a while since the last post but now I've actually done something of note it's worth mentioning. On Saturday Jen drove to Miyazu from Ine so we all could drive to the big smoke of Maizuru for some shopping. It was like Miyazu but a bit bigger so it was the same shops but just a tiny bit more. The best part of the night (apart from being lost and driving around in circles) was dinner. It was proper Indian food cooked by Indian cooks and I must say it was better than the stuff I got back in NZ. We had tandoori chicken and a curry and naan each. The biggest freaking naan I had ever seen mind you. We thought this an anomaly until we saw in Kyoto several days later this was the standard naan size in Japan because you don't have rice with your curry. Jen stayed the night and the next morning we jumped on the train for Kyoto for the AET seminar. It's a 2 ½ hour ride to Kyoto Station from Miyazu, at least on the cheaper service where you have to change over at the next biggest city in the area, Fukuchiyama. The orientation was to start on the Monday and finish on the Tuesday but we wanted to see some sights so Sunday morning before lunch we arrived in Kyoto only to find it was overcast, slightly raining and not worth the trouble of touring around outside. We did however sightsee around Yodobashi electronics store where Jen bought a fancy as phone, the huge mall Aeon which had a pet shop that sold meerkats, the four storey high second-hand book and music Book Off, and finally the anime holy-land Animate, where I managed to pick up a Animate exclusive figure I had wanted for ages and thought it was deemed out of stock.

That night we ate in Karawamachi, a lot of which is a huge labyrinth of covered shopping streets housing souvenir shops and eating places and is crowded most of the time. We ate at a place Maggie recommended called Ganko which despite having the face of a grumpy old man as their logo, was actually one of the best places I've ever eaten with such friendly, charismatic staff. We were seated along the bar with our own chef in front of us cutting up the fish we ordered before giving it to the kimono-clad wait staff to add the other food. Jen and I had a tuna sashimi and tempura set, while Maggie had tuna sushi and sukiyaki. 

Getting our tabe on at Ganko, Kawara-machi

Our chef was a really nice guy who kept on giving us free food and lollipops that were shaped like sushi, while we talked throughout the evening. His claim to fame (as he was very proud to point out) was the photo of him and the head chef cooking in the first few pages of the Lonely Planet Guide To Japan (which I will buy and get them to sign it next time I come back!). The head chef was awesome, too. He would come over when his patron didn't need him and talk to us, whipping out his notebook which had sentences concerning food in every language imaginable, as told to him by his international customers throughout the six years he had been working there and entertaining us with such food phrases as in Italian, Finnish and German.

The head chef of Ganko.
World famous from the Lonely Planet Guide to Japan!

The seminar itself was pretty boring as I knew it would be. On Monday we heard old JETs talk about their daily lives and we had them go over our introduction lessons for our first day at our schools while on Tuesday we actually presented our introduction lesson and it thankfully only lasted the morning. On the Monday night we all went to a drink and food buffet on top the of the Kyoto Tower Hotel where Maggie and I were staying at. The food was pretty average but everyone was there to take advantage of the all you can drink weak-ass Japanese beer and chateau cardboard wine. It was crowded at the open air buffet and more people came in the JET group then there were seats to carry them, so when Maggie and I arrived an hour late after making yet another trip to Animate, we had to split up and commandeer unsuspecting peoples chairs, which led me to the old Kyoto City JETs end of the table. If I had the choice I would have relinquished the honour of sitting with this hardened, pessimistic, dirty minded group of old gold-diggers and gays but as it happened, I had to sit through their unsavoury tales of waxing and promiscuity for an hour while I ate bad Chinese food and no dessert. Maggie and I planned to use the free admission tickets to the top of the tower that we got when we checked in but we were too late.

On Tuesday afternoon Maggie and I met up with Rob and the three of us took the train to Fushimi Inari, a famous group of shrines on a mountain that are connected with forest paths lined with giant red torii gates. After seeing it in the pictures I had imagined that it was only one shrine and at the most would have 100 or so torii surrounding it, but the kilometres of paths running through and around the mountain leading to the ten shrines really took me by surprise. At the base of the mountain shops sold mini toriis that you could buy and write your wishes upon to place at any of the shrines along the way. We wanted to buy one just for the cute factor but by the time we found our way back to the shops, everything was closed. As we ascended the mountain, we saw a small snack shop further along at the halfway point, and we half-stumbled half-dragged ourselves up the stairs towards it, red-faced and sweating from every pore, we found ourselves staring like soon-to-be road kill into the very large lens of a movie camera. It just so happened that a film crew was doing a time-lapse scene of Kyoto City from the mountain through the the evening. At the snack shop we had shaved ice and drinks while Maggie nursed her gunshot-looking mosquito bites after she asked one of the women from the film crew for some ointment and repellent. I didn't find the walk hard but I did have to stop and wait for the others often so I guess it was trying for people of average fitness level (mum check it, I'm above average). We climbed on and reached the very top to be greeted by the slamming of snack store sliding doors and weary, wrinkled old faces looking disapprovingly out from the glass windows, and it was only after we began descending we realised that we had reached to the top – there was no other indication of our achievement. As we wound our way to the heart of the mountain the torii overhead blocked out the little light of dusk left filtering through the thick forest. About this time we met a tiny old woman with one of the thickest Kansai dialects I had ever heard and for the rest of the descent she chattered away happily to the big gaijin as we tried to catch on to the tenuous threads of understandable Japanese amongst the heavy Kansai dialect. She led us down different paths to the station while talking about old ladyish things (like her late husband) before showing us to the station and parting ways.

That night the three of us took the 7.30pm train back to Miyazu, arriving at 9.30pm covered in dried sweat and exhausted. The feeling was multiplied for me knowing that I would have to make the long trip back to Kyoto again three days later. That's tomorrow. And it's going to be an early start. I'm not looking forward to it.

Obon Voyage!

The night before last we Miyazu JETs met up with the other Tango JETs for the final night of Obon – the fireworks! We started off on top of the Fukusuke getting our yukatas on without the help of a Japanese person, so it took twice as long. I couldn't get mine on no matter what I did so I ditched it in the end (which I'm glad I did) as it's really big and difficult to put on neatly, as I noticed Masako had trouble the night before. I also had a real obi to contend with unlike the others that had “one-touch obi” as Masako calls them, pre-tied obi that just clips onto the back of the a sash that just wraps around the waist. We had planned last week that we would all meet up, get ready and be outside Mipple to get a good seat by 5.30pm but even though most everyone who was to wear a yukata turned up early, we still arrived at the festival unfashionably late. All along the waterfront eight or so versions of the same six stalls were dotted around in a single line selling yakisoba (grilled noodles), takoyaki (dough-balls with octopus, my favourite – I had two boxes!), yakitori (grilled chicken), kakegouri (shaved ice), and Doraemon themed castella (a Portuguese cake that is very popular here and has been since the opening of the country to the outside world in 1868 – minus the Doraemon).

It was getting dark and the heavy clouds that had hung around all afternoon blotted out what little daylight was left as we wove our way through the thronging crowd who were idling around the food stalls. We actually managed to get a good place to lay our gouzu tatami mats out on grass, after walking further around the bay. Some unlucky latecomers were forced to sit on the paved areas, while others had to stand. It seemed like everyone in the city and the neighbouring towns was there as, as far as the eye could see along the bay all the way to Amanohashidate, people gathered with their mats and umbrellas anticipating the coming rain. Others met up with us shortly after and after getting dinner we settled in ready to watch the first part of the night, the lantern lighting. Already the six professional teams of Odori dancers were out on the water on covered raft-like boats dancing in time to the music playing from the loud speakers attached to the awnings of the boats, and when the clock struck 7.30pm the dancers stopped and began placing red and white lanterns on the water that drifted off away from the shore in a long wave, as the sound of a Buddhist monk chanting in an eerie monotone into a microphone echoed around the bay. These lanterns each contained a letter written by someone in Miyazu to a dead loved-one and it's thought that eventually the water would carry the letter to the recipient. Small shrines covered in flowers and ornaments were also set on the water, then set alight as they sombrely followed the lanterns further out so sea before burning up completely, their charred remains slipping silently beneath the waves.

The state of inner peace we had all ascended to was abruptly dashed as the first firework was sent up and exploded with an almighty bang that scared all children, animals and Maggies within the vicinity and set off car alarms. The fireworks lasted one hour and every 10 to 15 minutes the silence on the ground was broken by sudden shrill heavy metal guitar music being blasted out over the loud speakers as the commercial break started and the companies that had sponsored the event were announced, the music was so out of place and so startling that we couldn't stop laughing every time it started up. Towards the end of the fireworks it started to spit and as soon as they ended at 9.00pm the rain just came down after trying to hold it in all evening. We stuck around despite the rain and met up with more JETs from the area who had arrived just towards the end, and went to see and take part in the odori again, teaching it to the others. By that night I was a pro at the Miyazu Odori dance as it was the third night of doing it, but this night it was more fun as it was haphazardly danced by fewer people, many of whom hadn't done it before while most people were wearing their wet weather gear that included ponchos with frog head hoods. One couple we did see did the entire thing in motorcycle helmets that had microphones attached to them, it was all pretty bizarre. The rain had eased a little for the odori but as we finished it just bucketed down. I luckily had my umbrella with me but many of the JETs hadn't brought anything to protect them from the elements so were soaked to the bone. They seemed pretty happy about it, but then again they had been drinking. We hung around for a little while at Mipple waiting for the rain to ease but there was no end in sight so we split off to go home.

That was one experience to add to the true Miyazu experiences list – Obon in the rain. It was probably most memorable and more fun because it was rained, but it was definitely a great night. Today however I'm going to buy a cellphone with Maggie and Nishihara-san and tonight is volleyball. Saturday is Maggie, Jen, and my trip to Maizuru, one of the nearest bigger cities, then on Sunday all three of us will take the train to Kyoto, a day earlier before Kyoto Orientation starts to do the tourist thing. At the moment Maggie and I are looking at places to eat in Kyoto and the Ninja Restaurant looks pretty appealing. The wait-staff are dressed as ninjas and they drop down from the ceiling to give you your food apparently. We watched a video of it on YouTube and if you have something that is to be flamboyed they attach a fuse to it and light it making it set on fire briefly. An obvious choice for a restaurant.

It Take One to Odori

Obon kicked off last night and Team Awkward Gaijin danced the Bon Odori without too many embarrassments. Jen and Rob joined Maggie and I for the event, but before it started we had to get yukata for the other three at Mipple. This turned out to be an ordeal in itself. After Maggie and Jen carefully chose one, or in Rob's case just picked one of the shelf, Maggie made the mistake of phoning Masako and the kimono fitter hearing a Japanese speaker who knew exactly what we needed, asked to be put on to her. Bad idea. Even though we were running late an yet to have dinner those two discussed bits and bobs we needed for 15 minutes. Needless to say we went hungry that night. After we assembled back at the upstairs of the Fukusuke, Masako put our yukata on us and insisted we pack towels around our waists to bulk ourselves out. I've never had to do this before when wearing a yukata, but Masako insisted we do it because traditionally the preferred style for women wearing any kind of kimono is to have a straight waist without any curves whatsoever, and Masako wouldn’t take no as an answer so the big gaijins got bigger. Because we were running out of time, Masako enlisted the help of one of the Fukusuke staff who was probably a relative of Mama-san and was an expert at dressing people in kimono, which got us out of there by 6.30pm ready for the Bon Odori. It was humid and raining lightly as we hurried to the open festival grounds, fattened up and sweating with all the extra padding under the tightly bound yukata. As if a higher power was looking out for my mental health, the rain stopped as we started to get into the dancing. According to Mama-san it was raining in the next town where they were having fireworks so we were luckily just out of the rains range for the whole night. We arrived to see the last half of the opening ceremony and joined the circle ready for the Miyazu Odori (the one we actually did know). The Awkward Gaijin team never really formed as there were two circles of dancers, the serious teams who had spent months practising in the middle wearing their teams yukatas and their flag-bearer in the front, while the 'freestyle' dancers danced around the outside, out of the way.

For the most part we did the Miyazu Odori, and when the music changed into the 'Ninja Dance' (we found out from one of the professional dancers it is actually the kata (method) of samurai swordplay minus the sword and changed slightly to become a dance), I took part in that too as it was slow and used straightforward footwork. But when it changed again into the overly fast and overly complicated 'Sleeve Dance' I tried for a couple of minutes then bowed my way out of the circle to take photos of everyone else while the professional dancers laughed at my unco-ness. The pattern of the three songs was repeated throughout the night which gave us time to refine our moves (or finally learn them in Rob's case). The Japanese onlookers were genuinely impressed with our moves, so we heard later. The Japanese people stuck to the real, precise, straightforward moves of the original dance, but I noticed all three of us gaijin girls ended up inadvertently embellishing the simple hand and foot movements to fit a more western style of dancing. Unfortunately my camera ran out of batteries shortly after we started but Jen gave me hers to use as she didn't really like taking photos, so I went snap happy and even asked to be allowed up the stairs to the raised hut that housed the musicians during their snack break. They invited me in and when I expressed my interest in the shamisen, the senior shamisen player took up his instrument again and played a very fast-paced tune to show it off.

Throughout the entire evening we had locals taking photos of us as Maggie said they would, and at the end many of them wanted a photo of us with their families, parents, kids you name it. The photographer from the local newsletter was also there and she took our photo for that, so it looks like I'm going to feature twice in this months edition after I did a self introduction article for it last week. The photographer actually dropped by an hour ago to give Maggie and I the photos she took of us, and they're not bad considering we were dancing non-stop for several hours in the hot and humid Miyazu air and looked like we had just crawled out of the backside of a rhino. Hunger gnawing at us from the inside, we then descended onto the food stalls in a big hungry mob and devoured every piece of fried chicken and chips in sight, then washed it down with flavoured shaved ice, of which I've decided to get a machine to make it for myself. Maybe I could make some and sell it to the old patrons of the Fukusuke when they're off their face and willing to hand out as much money as they have. We bumped into Nishihara-san with her two toddlers, wearing her odori team's yukata, bearing a fan with “Odori Tatsujin” (Dance Master) emblazoned across the front. We also caught up with Nishihara-san's friend Kaori who works across the road at the city offices, who although wasn't wearing a yukata then, wore one with the rest of the city office staff during the day when I saw them as I picked up my Alien Registration Card this morning.

The night went much better than I had anticipated, mostly because I wasn't forced to do the Sleeve Dance like I thought I would be and because there was a nice breeze blowing throughout the grounds so we could breathe despite the pressing humidity. Tonight, again, we don our yukatas for the final night of Obon – the fireworks. A couple of other JETs in the area are joining us and Jen is coming back again tonight from Ine, but Masako is out of town tonight so the putting on of the yukatas will be completely in our hands, unless we rope in the Fukesuke staff again. Prepare for the Awkward Gaijin mode again. Maggie and I are hoping to weasel our way out of sitting in the BoE all day by asking Nishihara-san if we can go down to Mipple to get “classroom supplies” (tatami mats to sit on and food for tonight).

See you, I'm off to get “classroom supplies”.

2 hours later.

I am soaked. Kawahara-san decided to bring his super-soaker to the office and have a water fight at lunchtime whilst Nishihara-san bombarded us with water-balloons. If only that happened here, they would be the most likely convicts. No, after Maggie and I bought our tatami mats for the fireworks festival and as we were getting our lunches at McDonald’s (I got the Chicken Fillet-O, like the Fillet O' Fish but with chicken and made for dyslexics), it started raining. Heavily. And I had no umbrella, but being resourceful I took my new tatami mat and draped all two meters of it over myself, like the homeless people do here in Japan. People laughed at my vagabond chic but at least it kept me dry to a point. The rain was pretty incessant so the dryness lasted until the water collecting on the top of the mat ran through the cracks and soaked my head, so I rolled up the mat (while wishing I had a cord to sling it onto my back like the homeless do) and went singing in the rain. I was greeted back at the BoE with faces of sympathy and “kawaisou” (I feel sorry for you), but I didn't have it as bad as Maggie who, although wasn't that wet because she carried an umbrella, her coke had fallen on its side without her knowing it and spilled all throughout the the offices here so she spent 15 minutes trying to clean it up made longer by the fact you have to bob your head and apologise to everyone who walks by. It's just not our day. We heard that if it were to rain tonight they would cancel the fireworks, and put all our trials to get a tatami mat in vain but it's starting to clear up now so we are all go, for now.

The Extra-Long Weekend Edition – How Fabulous is Too Fabulous?

After a week and a half I finally got to see the one thing that this city is famous for – the Amanohashidate (bridge to the heavens), a 3.3 km natural land bridge that crosses Miyazu Bay. Our group of ten JETs from all around the area gathered at the Amanohashidate Station, after Maggie, the new high school AET Rob and I made our way there on the local train. We had told Rob to meet us at the station thinking, yeah, it's Miyazu, he has to be the only other gaijin we'll see at that time and place, since we hadn't met him before and didn't know his face. Wrong. It must have been because of Obon that we saw several gaijin for the first time, unconnected to each other in Miyazu. We ten JETs new and old from all four corners of Tango converged onto Amanohashidate to swim and wander around, and being the first day of the Obon holiday, it was crowded! After buying ice creams (mine was my favourite green tea flavoured one), we walked along to path to Amanohashidate only to be held up in a small crowd gathered before a bridge that had turned 90° to let the boats underneath cross. It was a pretty cool bridge, still in the traditional arched style, but turny and from then on known as the Harry Potter bridge.

Harry Potter bridge turns when you least expect it!

... and occasionally lets people go to where they need to.

The others swam for several hours while Maggie and I sat under the huge Matsu (Japanese pine) trees that lined the Amanohashidate or ran errands for the others like buying snorkelling equipment or was entertainment for the surrounding toddlers. The water was so warm and luckily there was a breeze blowing through, or I would have expired within the first 30 minutes. Constantly people huned around in rented speedboats and Seados and the odd parachuter could be seen being tugged along by a boat. Someone came up with the idea we could buy an ¥1,000,000 boat if all we and our BoE workmates chipped in, then drive it to Okinawa or Korea for a holiday. Yeah, nah... a bunch of pretentious school teachers in their togs and sunglasses sipping wine on the back of a boat has to be the saddest, most sympathy-evoking sight ever to be witnessed.

This area outside of the flags. The Japanese take swim safety seriously.

After being stung, burned, stabbed and generally maimed by the sea and the sun, we stopped for a lunch of onigiri and Aquarius along the beach while providing more entertainment for more toddlers, finding lost cellphones for high school students and talking about how to dress for the upcoming school year. One of the older JETs, Simon, mentioned he got a summons from his supervisor about his choice of clothing during his first days of school. His supervisor wrote a message out in Japanese and put it in to Google translate so Simon could understand. “Please do not be fabulous,” was what appeared on the screen. Every new JET now must been warned. There are some mornings that I just can't help this problem, but now I have forewarning I can go through the steps to help suppress the fabulousness. One of his friends who was female also got a message along the same lines saying “Please do not be sexy,” so fabulousness and sexiness in the workplace is unacceptable here in Japan.

The overly fabulous gaijin take over Amanohashidate,
with onigiri in hand.

Even after our big lunch of onigiri we were still hungry so we made our way back to the town and stopped at a restaurant for second lunch. I had cold soba noodles with tempura, while I'm not a huge fan of it, it does remind me of the lunches I used to have with Okaasan back in Matsue, so I ate it for the nostalgia factor more than anything. The restaurant had good views of the Amanohashidate but when you look at it from ground level it just looks like a normal beach. One day I will come back and maybe walk the length of it and take the chairlift up to the viewing points to take the stereotypical touristy pictures.

Cold soba and tempura. Get your tabe on!

For the rest of the afternoon we wandered around the big temple that is in the actual town while I practised my photography skills (my camera is so freakin difficult to use if you want to do anything more than the auto settings). There isn't much to write, and sorry for the listlessness of this entire blog, but I was and am exhausted by that/this stage especially from the heat, so my mind switched off as I just followed the others back to the station. Most of the group broke away to have drinks and stay the night at Simon's house, but Maggie and I had promised our adoptive mother Masako that we would go and hear her and her bandmates play that night. In hindsight that could have been a bad idea.

The small fans that hung from every tree at the temple.
 They had something written on the otherside, but I never really stopped to see what.

Moving on after a tiring day.

Her band Emma (a combination of the first two letters of her name and the other singers name, Emi), consists of four members, her and Emi on vocals and lead guitars, Shou-chan who I've mentioned before on backing guitar and another guy I don't know the name of on bongos and the harmonica. This guy, you could tell was a crowd favourite, everyone cheered him on before he started playing and I could see why. He was a pro on the harmonica, and it was amazing to hear the range that something so small could produce. The music Emma plays is folk and jazz (or zuja as it's known here, a reverse of the phonetic sounds for the Japanese word jazu), and because she knew Maggie and I were in the audience she sang some songs in English which sounded great because her pronunciation is so good. Before Emma started playing, while a lone guitarist was doing covers of Japanese pop songs, Shou-chan came up to us to say we are doing We are the World by Michael Jackson. This didn't register anything in my head so I went on listening all night unsuspecting, only to be caught out when Masako said “Is Ali and Maggie here tonight? Can they come up?” Maggie had a clue from the beginning judging by the “I knew it!” she cried. Well all I can say is, at least she knew the song. As we ascended the step up to the platform, I was desperately trying to signal to Masako that I didn't know the words. Well the words were there, but I still didn't know the tune so for the first verse and chorus I looked like fish out of water blubbing speechlessly, trying to make the form my mouth around the words on the paper before me to fit the tune I was trying to work out playing around me. Maggie had it worse than me when Masako passed the mic to her and she became the lone signer in the group as I lip-synced somewhere off in the distance and with Masako micless, she couldn't signal to the rest of the group when to finish so the band kept repeating the chorus at least six or seven times, much to Maggies chagrin. I on the other hand couldn't stop cracking up. It was a fun night all in all. We had yakisoba made by some of Maggie's junior high students, and had the shaved ice that is so readily available at every festival. Apparently that joint with the band is just the beginning. They play all year round at music events in Miyazu as well as during their parties they throw during special occasions where everyone who attends has to sing with them a song from their books or if you give them enough warning, a song of your choice. A past JET Eric asked them to play the Kermit the Frog song, so I'm going to see if I can go one up and sing Italy's Hatafutte Parade (the [white] flag waving parade) song from Hetalia.

Masako and the rest of her band Emma.

After having no sleep-ins for a week I was glad to wake up at 10am on Sunday. For the whole day I just puttered around the air-conditioned apartment, cleaning the tatami floors (they must be vacuumed and wiped down every week to avoid getting mouldy) and finally putting everything away in the myriad of varying sized and many coloured storage boxes Kim left me. That night we were to meet Masako and Shou-chan at Shou-chan's large house with Rob and the Ine JET, Jen, for a dinner of yakisoba before heading off to the Bon Odori practice. I never get sick of yakisoba. It is basically fried pre-cooked noodles with veg and sauce, and while I cooked variations of this for dinner back in NZ, in Japan it is so much tastier (filled with MSG).

We left Shou-chan's house and drove to the Mipple car park, then followed the sounds of the koto, taiko drums and bells through a little park to the open sand-covered festival grounds. A temporary raised platform surrounded by red lanterns stood in the middle of the grounds, encircled by professional dancers in yukata and learners like ourselves awkwardly stamping behind them, their eyes riveted to the graceful geta and tabi clad feet lightly stepping before them. It took a lot of practises and several comings and goings of disgruntled professional dancers for me to get the Miyazu Bon Odori dance sorted, but at least I did in the end. And I was proud of it. Rob on the other hand never mastered it so he will probably be on camera duty for the main event. Just when we were contented with our progress, the tempo of the taiko changed double-quick as the speakers blared out a different koto tune and everyone fell into their positions and began moving in time with such precision, that we gaijin stepped out of the circle lest we ruin the grace of it all. After our initial elation at getting what we thought was the only dance right we soon became disheartened as we bumbled around trying to link the fast hand and foot movements, but ending up looking like we were doing the Kermit the Frog dance. So we gave up, as was the natural thing to do. If we do have to do the other dances (which we have named the Ninja Dance and the Sleeve Dance) at the Bon Odori (which is tonight!), we've decided to Kermit the Frog it. Mind you, it is a competition so the gaijin team, living up to Japanese expectations of gaijin, will be awkward.

A taiko drummer and a bell player at the Bon Odori dance practise.

So that was the weekend. Tune in next time for the Awkward Gaijin Bon Odori Team update and a cure for those nasty rashes.

An old man in a yukata watching the dancers rehearse for the Bon Odori.

Miyazu - More Than Just Old People and a Land Bridge

Last night I thought I would try and break out of my usual pattern and actually cook myself some dinner instead of leaching off others or going hungry. Just when I had cooked up the meat and veg for my curry rice I got a knock at the door and it was Keita again. “Why you cooking dinner, we have dinner at my friends restaurant. I said on Monday do you want have dinner on Wednesday and you said 'Yes'.” Yeaaaah... I really have to stop agreeing with everything that is said around me especially when I don't understand what it is they're saying. So I was forced to ditch the curry (before the curry was added at the end), and the rice, and follow Keita. He lives on the western side of town and it was the first time I had ever seen this area. My side of town is very lively with people in every house, but on the western side, whole streets are deathly silent, full of big, crumbling, abandoned houses with for sale signs on the front. As I have mentioned before Miyazu is very poor. This is because the young people leave the city to study at neighbouring universities in Kyoto and Osaka and never come back leaving only older people populating the older areas of the city. Keita said on his street about six or so elders die every year and with the lack of newcomers to the city, the streets have been left abandoned. Hopefully I can find my way over there again and take some photos of the dereliction, it's really quite astounding.

That night we ate at Keita's friend Shin-chan's izakaya called Azito, who are the sponsors of the volleyball team. When we arrived, two other guys from volleyball, the cool and silent Shirase-san and the fun and loud Tak-kun were already there. I don't know how I even missed (and yet agreed to) the invitation to this from the start as I'm sure Keita would have spent a while explaining to me who was coming and their backgrounds beforehand, in English. Huh. Another friend of Keita's, Ai-chan, also showed up soon after we arrived, and although she doesn't play volleyball, I pushed her to join us next week. I don't know how Keita can afford to shout people huge meals on such a regular basis, but huge they were and quite bizarre too, the weirdest being a plate of noodles with squid pieces all in a jet black squid ink sauce. Other meals that came our way included yakitori, anchovy pizza, ramen, and a mountain of other stuff.

Noodles in Squid Ink Sauce, so gross looking
even the camera didn't want to focus on it. It tasted good though!

As the night wore on, Keita and Tak-kun got drunker and drunker, saying I should give Shirase-san's soon-to-be-born daughter a 'New Zealand cultural piercing' (the excuse he came up with to make it acceptable for me to have my piercings in at school). Ai-chan, Shirase-san and I just had tea and grapefruit juice looking incredulously at the beer and shouchuu bottles gathering around the other two. For four hours we talked, ate, ate some more and practised our grunting for when we slam the ball over the net, then finally called it a night at 12.30am. It was the best night out I've had since coming to Miyazu despite everyone telling me there are no people my age in the city. Actually there is, they just gather in their burrow, but if you meet one and they invite you back to the underground HQ, you're freed from an eternity (or three years) of having to make polite conversation with the oldies.

When I arrived home the door was locked. I never lock the front door. Ever. That meant only one thing. An intruder was kind enough to lock up after his evenings work to prevent further thievery in the vicinity, or someone else has moved into the hub of coolness, the Fukusuke. The light under the second door confirmed the later. Maggie is back and here to guide me in the way of the gaijin. This morning I met her at work and at lunch she took me to a cheap izakaya for some yakiniku, rice and miso. All day she's been filling me in with the latest upcoming events, trips away and what to expect from the schools I'm to go to. So starting on 8^th August is the Obon Festival, with the preparations for it going on several days beforehand. Maggie and I are expected to join in the Bon Odori (dance) and learn all the moves for several of the dances the day before it starts. Apparently no matter how hard the awkward gaijin tries, they cannot master them completely, and end up looking like a dick in a yukata. The second night of Obon, the 9^th, is the big fireworks display for which we will probably have to arrive early to, to get a good seat. Kyoto Orientation is also coming up in a week and a half so I have to prepare an example lesson for presentation, to have it critiqued. We are going to Kyoto a day early to do some exploring, at the expense of the BoE (they just don't know it yet). Then a week after that, school starts, and it will be down to business*.

*games

Tsurezure Gusa (Essays In Idleness)

For the third time in my life I actually turned up late to work today. However nobody really realises I'm here anyway until lunchtime or for those who leave for lunch, I'm not noticed until I go home, as I work until 4pm while everyone else works until 6pm. When the clock strikes four I get up and say my “otsukaresama deshitas” (thank you for you hard work) and go off home, while several bewildered workers look up in surprise that I was even there in the first place. So as I expected, nobody but my supervisor Nishihara-san registered that I wasn't here at 8.30am, and even when I stumbled into the office at 9.10am, mused, with aching legs many still didn't realise. Nishihara-san said she thought I was dead. I could be. I certainly feel like a zombie being dragged about by a will which is not my own.

So last night was the soft volleyball team's practice and I unleashed the awesome power of the awkward foreigner as I knew I would. Most of my team-mates are my age but there are a few high school students and one old lady who moves like someone half her age. Practice was pretty full on and we had several matches in the unairconditioned sports gym, while I sweated from every pore in my body. Seriously. And turned temporarily red for the duration of the practice. Japanese people can't get over the fact my face goes completely red with a bit of physical exercise. The same used to happen at Matsue North High were I picked up such nicknames as 'tomato'. My only credit in my unfit and untrained condition, was the fact I can do a powerful and precise serve, that usually got us a point in one move. This came from my old P.E. teacher Scratchy Haig only wanting to do volleyball with us at Rock College, and drilling us in endless serves, but naught else. During practice however, I landed funny (as I usually do with my crooked feet) and twisted my ankle a bit and had to sit out the last game in the practice. It still hurts a bit today but only if I bend it. Afterwards though, we all went to MacDonald's for drinks, then headed home just after 11pm. Probably the reason why I was late today.

While I was in Wellington and Auckland I was supposed to pick up a power adapter to use here in Japan, but unfortunately I had no time at Auckland Airport to do so (even with the hours we were there before the plane took off). So yesterday I began the search, or rather I mentioned it to Nishihara-san and she has determined to set out on a journey to all four corners of Tango find one, lest she feel failed as a supervisor. The search began when I mentioned it at 4pm yesterday where she immediately made some calls to local electronics stores and got a 'maybe' from one in the next town. So after her work at about 6.30pm we headed out to K's Electronics at Yosano-cho. This place was pretty unbelievable. It is massive, like Mitre 10 Mega massive, and all around the building for miles were endless rice paddies. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately, the search was all in vain, as it's easy to get Japanese to NZ plugs but almost impossible to get the other way around, so we headed back to Miyazu's Mipple as they said on the phone they could order one in for me. But when we rocked up to Mipple they said no we can't. Arrrgh! So hopefully the saga will concluded when we call K's again and get them to order one in. Talk about drama! Welcome to my exciting life. But it's a big thing for me as my external HDD is an impenetrable fortress that contains all that I hold dear, with an adapter being the only key. One thing that did stick in my mind that evening was something Nishihara-san said to me during a conversation we had in the car about drinking. She asked me what I was like when I drink. Talkative? Angry? Sleepy? I said I was overly nice and overly empathetic to those whom I respected and a little mean to those I don't really have much respect for. Then I fall asleep. Her reply was, “Do-esu Arii no sugata, mitai yo!” (or “I want to see Ali in super-sadistic mode!”). I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to get me to sit next to someone I don't like, like Evil-glare Guy at the upcoming office enkai (drinking party) just to see what will happen. I think she is more of a sadist than myself.

I think the tea and lollies I left at everyone's (but one) desk yesterday was a good idea. This morning I've had people I haven't ever talked to from the other side of the room come over and share okashi (sweets) from their hometowns, the best being one from Hokkaido called Shiroi Koibito (white lover), a biscuit with a white chocolate filling. On a similar note, Evil-glare Guy isn't here today. I must have affected him more than I had thought.


Well that's me for a night. I'll go back to doing my new-found hobby of making paper dolls of Hetalia characters until I get tired. Nigh-nighs!

"What a strange, demented feeling it gives me when I realise I have spent whole days before this inkstone, with nothing better to do, jotting down at random whatever nonsensical thoughts that have entered my head."

-  Yoshida Kenkō (1283 – 1350), Tsurezure Gusa, 

trans. Donald Keene (1967).

Drinking Parties and Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes... The Perfect Combination!

This morning I had a mean hangover, and it wasn't a sore stomach one like what bourbon does to me, it's the full sore head one. This is a first for me. The culprit could have been the whole bottle of sake that was plied onto me last night by the old guy at the izakaya I went to. I feel sorry for that guy. He walked away with a shocked albeit bemused look on his face and a bill for over ¥12,000 (about $150) for the mountain of food I ate. I don't eat much at home as I haven't be bothered lately, but if someone invites me out, which I have been for three of the four nights I have been in Miyazu, I eat like like it's The Last Supper (or not. I think Jesus only had a bit of bread, a spot of wine and maybe some fruit. Maguro must have been out of season and his mates must have kept back the sake for the after-party). To elaborate, the old guy, Keita, was from the Miyazu New Zealand Society and he had come to make peace with the newly settled barbarian on the outskirts of town. Somewhere along the way at the izakaya, after I don't know how many cups of sake, I joined the Miyazu volleyball team and met some of Keita's friends that just happened to be at the izakaya at that time, one guy of which entered with his eight year old son, found his wife in there and immediately had to leave after making his introductions (to us) then his apologies (to his wife). After everyone was onto their fifth and sixth glass of shouchuu and getting overly touchy-feely (yes, I know you had an injury on your thigh, but you don't actually need to touch mine to explain that), I deemed it time to head home and for everyone to rest up for work in the morning, and amid some protests, everyone stumbled on home. This was just after 10pm. Keita vowed that he would never eat out with me again, but rather have home cooked meals whenever a meet up is necessary. Tonight however, is the meeting for the volleyball team I joined last night so it's time to unleash the unco power of the awkward foreigner. It's also time to clean the sheep shit from my shoes and step onto a court for exercise! Wow, I haven't said that word for many years. Although, it will be a bit sad to see that small greenish-brown bit of kiwiana disappear from the bottom of my sole, down the plughole.

Last night I spent several hours in a drunken stupor making little gift bags for my fellow workmates here at the BoE, with tea and lollies in them. I put them on everyone’s desk during the lunch break when most people were out, as such things are usually performed in secrecy, but unfortunately I was three short for all the the workers here in the office (I had only made 20), or from now on will be referred to as kindergarten. I made my two favourite playmates, the always happy and slightly odd girl, Nishihara-san and the leader of all the kids, the big and loud Kawahara-san, go without as I'll put together a better present for them tonight. And because I don't know any of the kids over the other side of the playroom, the other kid who went without is over that side. His usual hangout is marked in my mind so I can give him something tomorrow, too. Of course he didn't know that then and all afternoon he shot evil glares in my direction from across the playroom while whispering stuff about me to the kids around him. My first and hopefully only kindergarten enemy unwittingly made by denying him lollies. Looks like he may not play nice in the sandpit even after I give him lollies. I think Kawahara-san felt the same. He saved his favourite biscuit for me during lunch after he saw that he didn't get anything, although luckily he's just two beds down from mine so, before nap time I told him the story. He seemed a lot happier for it and may get Rumour-Spreading Kid to make peace. On another just as real note, in September I will start teaching at the local kindergartens so there I can learn from the pros how to deal with such situations.

Lollies! Tea! Lollies and tea! The staple of New Zealand society!
The back drop could be a lovely painting, or just my wardrobe doors.

Yes, you heard right. I am actually teaching at kindergartens as well as all of the local primary schools. And not only that, I just found out at orientation I'm teaching at a special needs school, too. It's just my luck I get put in with my mental equals with similar interests. Together we can talk about anime, Disney and Sanrio characters like Hello Kitty, while singing Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes and playing with playdough. I'm looking forward to it. Seriously. Japanese primary schools have only 20 hours a year with an AET (that's me), while kindergartens and special needs schools only get about five hours. That means even with my eight primary schools, the workload is pretty small. I will be working in the classroom for three days a week, with a workday being only about three hours and after that I can go home. Of course I will be at different schools one week to the next, while on the two days I don't teach, I'll be at the BoE offices preparing materials for the upcoming lessons.

That's all for day four in Miyazu. I promise I won't make posts everyday of the year, just until I have no time to do it. It's the only thing that helps me keep my sanity at the BoE everyday!

Mata ashita~!

Tsuruga On A Sunday Morning

While walking to the supermarket this morning, I took some shots of things of interest, while people around me whispered about why the foreigner was taking photos of such mundane things. So here's Tsuruga - the area of Miyazu where I live.

A nearby shrine. There are two little foxes that sit either side of the donations box, with the bell rope between them.

My street. My place is furtherest down the road.

The main street on Miyazu, almost deserted on a Sunday.

Another Shrine.

My street again. There's no enough room for garages in most Japanese towns and cities so  anywhere is considered a parking area.

An alleyway coming off of my street.

So that was Sunday. Tomorrow is back to work, and I'll bring my stack of Gintama manga I bought yesterday with me to give me a legitimate excuse to laugh, while the others have to go about their boring jobs.
Bai bai!

If I live above Miyazu's Snack Otose, does that make me Miyazu's Yorozuya?

I'm back at the BoE, but this time the boredom is stemmed by the fact I have my computer with me (yesterday the blog was handwritten then typed, and I now know my way home), but there is no internet in the office so it's pretty limited as to what I can do. I usually just write my blog while listening to the Kansai dialect being thrown around the room. That's one of the awesome things about coming to the country – you get to learn some sweet dialects. At first people would speak in as thick a dialect as they could to try and throw me off for a laugh, but after they found I was actually used to listening to it from the many Shinsengumi related dramas set in Edo Era Kyoto that I translated, they've laid off a bit.

The bridge I have to cross everyday to get to work.

Last night I met Kim's friend Masako and her friend and fellow bandmate Shou-chan, both of whom are in their late fifties, in a jazz band, and are the unofficial parents of every gaijin that comes to live in the city. They are also members of the Miyazu New Zealand Association, the only active sister city organisation in Miyazu despite there being three sister cities – Nelson in NZ, one in the US and one in China. Both have travelled to NZ seven times with the association and are going back in November. All four of us went to a tiny side-street izakaya bar with only two tables for Kim's farewell dinner. I took Kim's word for Masako's ability to get you anything you wanted and asked Masako if she could get me shamisen lessons with someone in town and lo and behold, she had a friend who would be willing to give me lessons for free, so watch this space for the shamisen report. We stayed until the couple who owned it kicked us out at 9.00 or so, then headed back to the Fukusuke.

The Fukusuke is the sakaya (another kind of traditional bar) that I live above. The old landlady who owns it, who everyone in the town refers to as Mama-san, owns many apartment complexes in the area including ours, and a convenience store close by. She's the town gossip. There is nothing Mama-san doesn't know about everyone in the town especially within the small group of gaijin resident here. Kim hadn't told Mama-san that she was moving out as she wanted to avoid her but through Mama-sans network of prying ears, she found out and she wasn't happy as we waltzed up to the Fukusuke tonight. Mama-san speaks in the Miyazu dialect, a variation of the Kansai dialect and she is like a relic from the early Showa Era. The small sakaya she owns has a few tables, a bar, a few plain-looking barmaids and every night is full of the regulars – a group of five or so old drunk men. Kim didn't want to go in but I was interested in what Japanese traditional sakaya were like, so I was keen. It was Miyazu's answer to Snack Otose down to every last bottle of cheap shouchuu and every last stubbed out cigarette on the counter. I was pressured into trying Japanese beer and seriously regretted it. As usual we got the goss on everyone in town and Mama-san fed us different traditional pickled and dried foods. Then, out came the mustard-soaked eggplant. I have never had such a food that makes your nose sting and you eyes water, of course the regulars thought it hilarious as we bawled our eyes out. All of the gaijin in the area try to avoid the Fukusuke as everyone regardless of sex, gets hit on by the old men, and it was one of the previous JETs who still lives in the town, Eric, who had told Kim this. Unfortunately, we were no different. For the most part we ignored the kawaii naas and byuutifuru gyaarus directed at us and talked with Masako and Shou-chan. Kim has only been to Fukusuke once before in her three years here and by the end of the night, I could see why.

The infamous Fukusuke. It's only 5pm and already the patrons are starting to wander in.
My room is the one on top with my front door being the one behind the Coke machine.

Snack Otose. So similar, it's scary.

The weekend starts tomorrow and I'll finally get some much needed rest from the tedium of not doing nothing, but doing not much here in the office. Also I haven't had time to finish unpacking so I'll finally be able to settle in for good. Despite there being a lot of work to be done at home, I have to come to work to do not much to keep up appearances. Many things in Japanese culture are based on form and for the almost decorative role of AET this is especially relevant. So long as I turn up to the office everyday (even through they know there is nothing for me to do here) and look like I'm doing something, they're happy. Many people have mentioned to me that it's because I'm a civil servant and if people notice me in town during work hours, they will complain that their taxpayer dollars are being wasted. Well, I could have told them that. Miyazu is a very poor area in terms of money to throw around in the public sector. They barely have enough money to pay my salary let alone subsidise my lodgings and such like other JETs are getting elsewhere.

Today as I was going through the Miyazu City lesson outline book for the primary schools created by the BoE many years ago, I couldn't help but notice a lot of the things that were to be taught in the schools were focussed on New Zealand including animals and food. When I mentioned this to Kim she said Miyazu is fond of New Zealand and that New Zealanders are more sought after in this town. It just so happens that I was chosen to go to Miyazu because the BoE, after years of getting JETs from the States, asked specifically for a New Zealand JET. Boy, do I feel special. Of course I have an obligation to join the Miyazu New Zealand Association and accompany them on their trips around the prefecture promoting New Zealand with demonstrations and talks and such, so again, watch this space. Masako has yet to introduce me to the rest of the association but after that I think it's going to be hard out. It sounds like there's going to be a trip coming up in a couple of weeks in the neighbouring Ine – a tiny town in between the mountains to the east.

And that was day two of the Miyazu experience. Tune in next time for shamisen mishaps, offended townsfolk and other cultural blunders.

Welcome To The Inaka!

After one day I have had the AET experience in full. I'm here sitting in the Miyazu Board of Education office not doing nothing, but doing not much. My classes don't start until the beginning of September, but because I'm expected to show up for work and I work of a board of education not a single school, I have to come into work during the holidays, from 8.30 until 4.15. It looks like my predecessor Kim was in the same boat – there are wads of origami paper and assorted things of general distraction but not much else.

For the last few days I have been at the Tokyo Orientation and despite its mind numbing boringness during the day, the nights were cool – correction – above 34°C (the thermometer didn't go higher than 34°C so it was higher, I'm sure). Orientation was pretty blah. Everyone was put into shared rooms of two or three with others from our country. I happened to be with two Chinese New Zealanders from Auckland – Deborah the ALT and Cindy the CIR heading to Fukuoka, both of whom were very nice. On the first night I mentioned that I wanted to buy a laptop while I was in Tokyo and Cindy offered to come with me to translate, but at first I refused, puffed up my chest and said I'm capable of doing it! Crappers, was I wrong. Cindy came along despite having other stuff to do and even bargained with the guy at Yodobashi Camera to get me a mouse and a laptop bag thrown in with a discount. Unfortunately I ditched my passport just before I left to go into town and with that I could have gotten it tax free. Facepalm moment.

The view of Shinjuku as seen from our room window at the Keio Plaza.
It was hazy and cloudy all the time. And hot. Real hot.

It's finally hit home that I'm in another country. At orientation, the number of gaijin greatly outnumbered the Japanese so in that gaijin bubble we were all in a state of purgatory even when we did go out into the stinking hot of Shinjuku at night for karaoke and drinking. At many times we caught ourselves out saying “here” and meaning New Zealand, which is how much we felt like we were in Japan. Now however, being surrounded by my Japanese co-workers here at the BoE, I've finally realised the reality of the situation – despite being nice in your head, you're in another country, it's hard to say what you want or move around the way you want. Also work is work no matter what you do or where you are, and it has its prolonged moments of tediousness. I'm glad I put off work for so long.

The trip to Miyazu began yesterday morning with a short walk from the orientation in Shinjuku to Shinjuku Station, the busiest station in the world, then a train to Tokyo Station. From there all of the Kyoto JETs bought bentos, gallons of water and a box of real Tokyo Banana – a Tokyo regional okashi (sweet) – to prepare us for the 1½ hour trip to Kyoto Station on the Shinkansen. During the trip everyone worried over their self introductions rehearsing and correcting them, but I was too tired, so I just helped the others make theirs. And the Tokyo Banana was soooo good! A banana shaped banana sponge with concentrated banana goo inside. Nothing says “yum!” like goo.

Heat was a figment of our imagination until we stepped out of the station to meet our supervisors awaiting us outside while everything rehearsed was promptly evaporated along with any moisture in our bodies. My predecessor Kim, my supervisor Nishihara-san and another BoE worker, Kawahara-san were there to drive me to Miyazu, and we had to leave straight away to get out of the extreme heat. Nishihara-san and Kawahara-san are, as I was to find out that night at a bar, the rowdiest, drink-loving people at the BoE, so the two hour ride home was fun hearing Nishihara-san and Kawahara-san's nicknames for the rest of the BoE workers based on their characteristics, while the victimised co-workers had no idea. Kawahara-san was the driver and being the head of the Rowdy Duo, drove at twice the speed limit (in Japan it's 70km/h on the highway) while they played their favourite new CD – a collection of famous songs played by music box. I can't really judge, I like listening to chiptunes. When we arrived at my new flat I had a couple of hours to myself to half unpack and settle in before we would go out for dinner. My neighbour for the next year or two, Maggie, had gone back to the US for the holidays but she had left me a bag of presents, all Shinsengumi related. Shinsengumi themed Hatsu Hashi – the regional okashi of Kyoto, a file pouch and a cup. It's funny that someone I've never met knows exactly what I'm into. Either that or I'm just so predictable. Or my Facebook page is an exact reflection of my life. That's kind of scary.

Thanks, Maggie!

As we drove into Miyazu I felt nothing really. The Japanese countryside pretty much all looks the same and being surrounded by it in my first visit to the country eight years ago, I can't marvel at the nice Japanese style country houses and the rows of rice paddies the way I used to. It all just registers in my head as normal now.

I felt this too as we took the bus from Narita Airport to the Keio Plaza in Shinjuku. I had taken, for the first part, the same route as I had back in 2003 and I remember at the time feeling so ecstatic watching the massive buildings tower above me, beside and underneath the raised expressway. And being mesmerised by the lights of a nearby Ferris wheel cascading rainbows from it's centre. It was such a surreal feeling being alone on that bus, not knowing where to get off but also not caring, watching the people drifting around me in their hi-tech cars. Doing it all again eight years later I felt nothing. Just dread for the upcoming orientation, surrounded by gaijin and just wanting to get to my placement already. But now as I work in my placement, I am very underwhelmed by it all and am currently thinking about what to do for lunch and when I can catch up on the sleep I have been deprived of since I arrived. And the heat.

Last night however, Nishihara-san, Kawahara-san and Kim took me out to a bar at Mipple – the pride and joy of our town – a four storey high department store in the middle of town. Rumours as to what the name means have been passed down from previous JETs, one being that it is a contraction of Miyazu's nipple. It sounds like the most likely, so we'll go with that. Dinner was fun as the Rowdy Duo were reunited and became quite wasted and couldn't stop laughing at the fact NZ has Christmas in the summer and all they could envisage as a Santa in his big coat, dripping with sweat, creating wet patches under everyone's Christmas tree, or Santa on a surfboard delivering presents. Kim and I only had coke and were interrogated for it. I have yet to try Japanese beer but I don't mind putting it off for as long as possible, like when I'm forced to at enkais.

Miyazu's Nipple, or Mipple.

At dinner I mentioned to Nishihara-san that I was interested in taking up the shamisen and she too said she was interested, and just a few moments ago she informed me of a seminar at the opera house (it's actually the town events centre but it's shaped like the Sydney Opera House, so that's the name it goes by), at 1.30 on Saturday. I don't know what to expect, a lesson or a recital but if it is a lesson I hope I can follow along as Nishihara-san can't come along to the first meeting. I had always thought my grasp of the Japanese language was enough to understand what was going on around me, but last night the gas guy came around and although I knew what was going on and what he was saying I couldn't really talk to him as my Japanese had been in disuse for so long. After he left I just collapsed into my little floor chair, the only chair in my apartment and felt so beaten that I could hardly talk despite my years of learning the language and trying to surround myself with it as much as possible. But today at lunch I bought a bento with Nishihara-san and her friend and ate it here at the office with the others that had stayed behind (I won't elaborate on the fact I tried to go home before this to get my computer and couldn't find my house, so came back to the BoE). During lunch the atmosphere was relaxed and it gave me the confidence to speak in Japanese to my co-workers and joke around with them. At least it salved my wounds from last night.

Tonight again I'm going out for dinner with Kim and her friend Masako, who speaks excellent English so I've heard and can apparently get you anything you want. You just mention it to her and days or months later she produces it or refers you on to others no matter how elusive it is. Such things have included calico cats which in Japan, are highly sought after and not easy to come by, invitations to private events and introductions to private tutors that only take on acquaintances of friends. She knows half of Miyazu, loves gaijin and luckily is not a crazy gaijin stalker like the ones I used to get in Matsue.

This has been the extra-long recap of the first few days bought to you by the letter す for すーん (sob). I promise the rest of my entries won't be this long and boring, but this is a record of thoughts and feelings as well as events so bear with me.

And excuse the lack of eye candy. I'll take photos of the town in the weekend.

Jaane.