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.