Tokyo

Finally getting round to blogging about the trip to Tokyo with HF at the start of November…

Returned home from school on Wednesday afternoon, quickly got changed and made it down to the Kouno family car port. We departed for Hiroshima airport a little bit behind schedule at about 17:15. Such a journey would otherwise have taken well over an hour and a half, had it not been for the liberty taken by Host Dad in regard to the speed limit of 80km/h on the freeway. I know it’s illegal and against the interests of road safety blah blah blah, but deep down inside I’m glad that at least one Japanese person insists at what I consider a reasonable speed. And I’m proud to say he’s my HD. Let’s just say that we shaved at least 20 minutes off that journey.

Furthermore, the drive was dotted with important calls to HD’s mobile (also a no-no). I’ve learnt so much polite Japanese just by listening in to his conversations:
hai, kouno de gozaitashimasentoomoitashimasuga
sumimasen, sumimasen, sumimasen
hai, hai, hai
onegaitashimasendegozaitashimasu
oyasuminasaimasenkadoumosumimasen…
[Hello hello, it's Kouno. Yes yes yes. OK let's do that good night then.]
I think he could even get me to answer his calls for him, I know the basic pattern quite well these days.

Hurried driving efforts even made enough time for a quick dinner (cold udon noodles) before the uneventful flight to Tokyo.

The hotel we stayed at had one of the ubiquitous Gideon-furnished New Testaments (with Japanese translation in this case), but more suprisingly ‘The Teachings of Buddah’. You know you’re in Japan when you find TToB next to the Bible in your hotel room. I think if you boil down the ideas of both books, you’d get something pretty similar in the end.

Made it out to Disneyland with sisters Yoshiko and Kuniko the next day, because it was a week day there weren’t many people and the wait for the popular rides was only one hour instead of five. We went on an indoor rollercoaster by the name of “Space Mountain”, couldn’t see a thing as we were spun upside down around the corners. I think that the fun thing about Space Mountain is essentially the same as the fun thing about swinging fully clothed on the rope swing at the Blue Lagoon (for those that know what I’m talking about).

You could fall off, but you don’t.

Had a Mickey Mouse-shaped burger for lunch, and then went to see a sickeningly happy, cute and romantic stage production called “The magic lives on”. I think it was meant for kids a bit younger than me. I had some fun buying Omiyage (gifts) for a couple of people back home, but more on that later. We then saw another presentation about an ‘Imagination Institute’ of sorts, I was suprised that the most imaginative invention the producers of the show could think of to base the show on was a machine that makes people and objects bigger and smaller. That’s not really imaginative if you ask me.

Caught up with the parents and rendezvoused with a young Russian they knew from somewhere, her name was Anistasia. Did I spell that right? We went to dinner, she turned out to be a lot older than she looked. Her Japanese was ultra-polite, I personally felt that Anistasia was being a bit of a suck-up. But that’s coming from someone who spends most of their conversation with teenagers. I think the difference between an appropriate amount of politeness and “suck-up-iness” is hard to define, especially as a non-native speaker. Just by judging her language choices, I got the impression that Anastasia was a completely different person to who she was. For all my reservations, she turned out to be not bad at all.

The next day started off with Sushi, followed by a visit to Chinatown for lunch before a shopping trip to Ueno. I mean, with two sisters and a host mum how can you NOT go shopping? HD amused himself at a golf shop, I bought some new shoes at long last (no shoes big enough for me in Shimane). The girls ended up purchasing an assortment of bags, boots, socks with individual toe holes, etc. I found a shirt that said “Cup Noodle”, but at 3000 yen it was far too much.

As I planned to bring back some air (air from Tokyo, that is) in a bag for Asari-aachan, I made a trip to the convenience store near the hotel for some bags and rubber bands.

Language note for future reference: WA-GOMU=Rubber band; GOMU=Not only rubber band, but Condom as well.

You can guess which one I asked for. “Do you want to buy?”, asks the shopkeeper after escorting me to the personal health section and showing me what was in stock. I eventually got my rubber band, but then decided that it would be safer to take the air back in a used plastic bottle.

The only interesting thing about the flight back on Saturday was that one of the cabin crew gave me an English newspaper, The Daily Yomiuri.

Made it back to Gotsu in time for me to catch the train to calligraphy, where the phrase of the day was “I’ve come all the way from Tokyo just to write calligraphy”. On the train, Kento told me that he had pinned on his wall kagura, as calligraphied by me in a previous post. On the way to the M hosehold, I stopped by at Asari-aachan’s house to give her the air. She ended up neatly labelling it and wrapping the lid with aluminium foil (so as to prevent any leakages) before placing it in a prominent place in her living room. “I’m going to keep it for a year”, she says with a giggle.

I had a great time handing out the presents I bought from Disneyland and Chinatown:

L-R: Asari-Jiichan and Aachan sporting Disneyland headwear; Yasui-sensei with a stylish cap from Chinatown. Sasaki-sensei tells me this is the first time she’s seen him smile. Ever. The rest of the photos are here.

…and that was my trip to the city.

The “Oh my what a long time it’s been” Blog Post #2

This is Cosmos Postman speaking. I am about to summarise the most interesting happenings and discoveries concerning me from the past two weeks.

• Gotsu High’s Tuckshop [Int'l English: "School Store"] lady wants to climb every last mountain in Shimane and the neighboring prefectures of Yamaguchi, Hiroshima, Tottori and Okayama. I went to buy some bread for lunch one day and she had a guidebook and a highlighter in hand, marking the mountains she’s climbed. Tuckshop lady also plays ping pong, but during the day she sells bread, drinks, stationary and umbrellas to students. That’s far out crazy I can’t believe it amazing if you ask me. She’s so cool.
• 3-3 Oral Communication (have I ever mentioned how much I love that class?) are watching A Time to Kill. The first thing that came to mind when I thought saying that title in Japanese was 殺す時間 – literally, ‘Killing Time’. Subtle difference in meaning. Because we started watching it on October 30th, Keita asked if the KKK outfits were in fact Halloween costumes.
• There’s a type of beer called “Kirin Sparkling Hop”. HF doesn’t drink it, but I saw an ad on TV for it. They’ve obviously attempted to make ‘hops‘ singular, but in fact it sounds more like a beer that a gay rabbit would drink.
• Unfortunately, Taiko in Yakami has been discontinued. There’s a school rule (dutifully enforced by parents) stating that students must return home by 10.30 each night. It’s to minimise the chances kids have of congregating after hours and doing “naughty things” such as smoking and drinking. I’m subject to this rule as a student, and it doesn’t go well with my late (11.30) return-from-Taiko time. It sucks because I really came to like that particular team, but I’m over the suckiness now. Investigating other teams, hopefully a bit closer to home.
• In the place of Taiko practise, I was considering joining a school-based club so as to hopefully make some better friends. Turns out that any clubs with more than 5 people: (a) are a sport that I am not good at; (b) are ultra-competitive and (c) train for hours on end each day. Points a and b seem to conflict, I really don’t want to join (for example) volleyball and be completely and utterly incompetent for hours each day. There was one exception: Water Polo.

Good company: check. Might be able to do to a reasonable standard: check (just being able to swim is an advantage in Japan). Cool club teacher in Miahara-sensei: check. Unfortunately, as Japan’s #2 high school water polo team, training is rigorous and it would require me to attend practise every waking moment of my life. After school, and all day weekends. Sorry, can’t do. Other commitments, and I also happen to value just a bit of time spent by myself for ‘personal interests’. Plus it’s getting cold but they wear those skimpy togs anyway. Sorry water polo team, I just can’t give you my soul.

• I’ve found joy and excitement in joining 1st grade maths classes. There’s a free desk behind Chibby (that’s a good thing) that I’ve taken, he usually keeps me entertained. We’ve got a cool teacher as well – he cracked a joke right in the middle of a sine rule proof and the kids had no idea what to do. See, classes here are absolutely silent. Nobody talks at all (except of course the teacher), and the students respond in a whisper when asked the occasional question. Thus, after the cracking of the joke by Okamoto-sensei, there was an awkward silence while he waited for some stiff laughter from the student body.
• Found a list of names of the student body, sorted by the class that  they’re in.  This is really useful for me, because I know a lot of people by face, but not by name.  I feel guilty asking for names of people I’ve known for months.  Now, I can just look at the name on any given person’s sports uniform and look up their first name on the list.  Excellent.

I’m not going to apologise for lateness in posting this entry and the ones that will soon follow (hopefully), but I will say that there’s a tradeoff to make between living life and documenting it, which when combined with a general lack of computer access makes it hard to find the time to write.  Regards Regardless.

The “Oh my what a long time it’s been” Blog Post #1

…updates on what I’ve been up to since the last post, starting with the weekend of October 20-21.

Calligraphy as usual, although I met on the train 3rd graders [compare: Australian year 12s] Yudai, Shogo and Kento, they all live in Asari and they all happen to be really good company. Thus, I briefly experienced the feeling that I wish I grew up in Asari with the three people next to me and the dozens of grannies in their gardens, summers spent catching fireflies and insects and collecting shells on the beach. The reality is though, spending a childhood there would be completely different from idealised 2.5 months I’ve spent as an exchange student. Truth is, Asari’s a young person’s hole. A hole that I happen to like, nonetheless.

Y, S and K seemed to think that “Mos Burger” and “Mister Donut” were not appropriate answers to “What’s you’re favourite Japanese food?”, but they got a good chuckle out of it. Tell you what, you can’t buy either overseas as far as I know. I then asked my three companions in train riding what their favourite kanjis were, as I was in need of something to calligraphy very soon. After a few minutes of thoughtful discussion (take note: teenage guys discussing language in regular conversation – something I’ve yet to see in Australia), the respective answers were

• 非常: emergency, as in ‘emergency exit’. Yudai was lacking inspiration today
• 義: justice, morality, honour
• 神楽: Kagura (click it and education yourself). You’ll find out why in a moment.

I passed Asari-aachan and jiichan, helped them to put up the bamboo pole and flag with their name on it for the festival that was on this particular weekend. From their house to the M family house, white rope and bamboo stalks lined the road, which I thought was beautiful. I decided to calligraphy 神楽, for I was going to watch the all-night Kagura performance later that night. Walked Maro the dog along the beach. Had dinner with the M family tonight (Koyo had a friend over tonight). Went to the local Shinto shrine to watch the all-night Kagura dance.

Walking to the shrine we passed some beautiful lanterns displayed in the front of peoples homes, purposes of which are still unknown by me. Hanging from the Tori gates at the shrine’s entrance was a paper lantern decorated by the local 6th grade children. Indeed, the Kagura performance was a true community event. My current HF kicked off the event with some of their Shinto priest things that they’ve been doing all month at similar festivals in other towns. Inside the ‘auditorium’ were a lot of families sitting down with blankets and pillows, upon which they’d later sleep as the night drew on. The older people standing at the back, and there was a section to the side where the young kids would gather.

There’s a few more photos in this collection

Of course, the main event was the Kagura dance to entertain the gods so as to produce a good harvest this year. However, the complete and undivided attention of the audience was not necessary, nor was it provided. There was a lot of chatter among the crowd as they shared around snacks and drinks. The kids entertained themselves with card games, gameboys and PSPs as well as more traditional games such as hide-and-seek. One of the dances performed featured some scary monkey characters, the scary monkeys descended from the stage and into the kids’ room and scared the kids. There was a lot of screaming and jumping out the windows.

Inside the shrine itself (a separate building from the ‘auditorium’) were two gas heaters, around which crowds would gather every now and then. I think the Kagura event was a rare chance for the local teenagers to congregate in large numbers late at night as there’s usually a curfew imposed by the schools (and enforced by the parents). Groups would come and go, watch the Kagura, chat, smoke and just hang out with each other. Later on that night, Koyo and his friend met with Yudai and some others around one of the gas heaters in the shrine to talk about things completely unrelated to Kagura.

Although the performance went through until 6AM, I retreated back to the M household for some sleep at around 2:30. The reason being, I then woke up a few hours later to catch the 7:27 train to Hamada, rendezvous with Nogami-sensei and go on a bus tour to the adjacent Yamaguchi prefecture with the local Japanese study group.

We went to a massive cave and a wide open hilly place with no buildings and lots of rocks. I forget what the name was, but have yourself some pictures:

Rice farming just next to the roadhouse we stopped at: entrance to the cave (two viewpoints), rock formation that’s supposedly interesting because it resembles rice paddies.

We took an 80m elevator ride to the top of the caves to see this beautiful scenery. It felt like we were somewhere other than Japan, for I’ve never seen this kind of openness here.

In true Japanese fashion, I considered buying souvenirs for those back at home who hadn’t come on the bus tour with me. I took one of the plastic-bags-in-case-you’re-sick bags off the bus and filled it with air. Not just any old air… air from Yamaguchi prefecture. Now that’s special. I tied it up with a rubber band from today’s bento lunchbox. As I was collecting my air, however, an arbitrary older man came up to me and started muttering some broken fragments of English. I was not in the mood to listen to strangers build sentences for me, so I told him I was actually French. I was then interrogated (in Japanese) about French culture:

“What’s famous about French culture?”
“Ummm… I don’t know. I’m from the French countryside. We eat snails.”

Old man then proceeded to teach me a few words of English. So nice of him. Admittedly, saying I’m French is a bit risky because there is a slight chance the person on the other end of the conversation could speak French and want to try it out on me. I can’t.

Met by chance at Hamada station one young man from Aishin High School, Japan’s smallest high school – a Christian boarding school in Asari. He recognised me from the time he and his Aishin companions gatecrashed our [the neighbours of HF1 and I] cherry blossom viewing party way back in April, drank our miso soup and devoured our fried noodles. They were hungry after cleaning up Asari beach all morning. We conversed all the way back to my station, during which I told him how annoyed I was that he and his companions steal my rubbish from the beach (read the ‘he flies around the universe’ page for more on that) – my companion offered to return my rubbish with a laugh, he knew I was kidding. I think.

Host Mum Kono was thoroughly elated to receive the bag of air from me. Not. Luckily I also bought some real gifts, namely sugared mikan peel.

Birthday

…finally I’ve got round to documenting it.

The night before, I went out for dinner with HF to a bistro in Hamada, I suppose it’s considered a cool place because they play rap and hip hop music straight from the American charts. But the food was good, most notably a loaf of bread that had been hollowed out, the inside diced, slightly toasted and drizzled with honey. But it doesn’t finish there! The diced bits of bread drizzled with honey were then returned to the bread shell along with some vanilla ice cream. It was good. To the power of six. Discussed with HF some finer linguistic details, namely trying to identify the exact point at which hot rolled up towels change from being “n long cylindrical things” into “n one flat things” when being unrolled, for purposes of counting. Click that link and education yourself. Met by chance at the bistro ALT Leah and her gaijin dining companions, her birthday is two days before mine.

My birthday started with me waking up with a feeling of maturity, and a sense that I was considerably more capable of owning a firearm, gambling, drinking, smoking, voting, becoming a prostitute or client thereof, buying porn or being a “model” [wikipedia] than I was the day before. Not. Childhood innocence, goodbye!!!

Actually, I’m pretty sure I don’t gain any of the above privileges until I leave Japan as Japanese people come of age at 20. I had to reply to the Transport Department’s advice for curing a hangover by saying that I in fact did not get drunk that night (it was also in the middle of the school week). I think that news might disappoint a few people.

Received over the course of the day:

• Bag from Ashley in banana style. Included in the bag was a pair of chopsticks, plastic cup, 1.5 litres of milk tea, two more bags, a letterset and a beautiful letter.
• Best card ever from Karen (“and some birds”), 1 pack of timtams. Will investigate where she sourced them.
• Second best card ever from Trixie.
• Two lettersets from Takezaki-sensei
• More???

Ashley informed my favourite class (3-3 Oral Communication) of the fact of the day and made them sing a certain song for me. I won’t mention its title. Guess. 3-3 kids who had had their birthday this year were asked what they did/received for their birthday, and then had to wish the same for me.

“CosmosPostman, I hope you can play water polo championships all day”
“CosmosPostman, I hope you get money from parents”
“CosmosPostman, I hope that she get cake from her friends”

Went out for sushi with the gaijin club as per usual, followed by bowling as per not usual.

ESS [English Speaking Society] club on Friday afternoon held an “Autumn Party” (it was Hitomi’s birthday on the same day as mine, but she doesn’t observe birthdays due to her religious beliefs – thus the Autumn Party naming convention). Attended by Ashley, Hitomi, Mayu and Megumu (who left half way through due to reasons to complex to report here). I married Mayu and gave her a ring worth about 20 yen. Mayu then revealed that she actually had a boyfriend in Hiroshima, a 20(?) year old bar tender, who she much preferred over me. We divorced:

“So Mayu, seeing how we’re getting divorced so soon, could you please give me the ring back so I can give it to someone else?”
“OK, here you go” (with a smile)
“Thankyou”
“Your welcome”

Mayu always makes me laugh inadvertently because her conversations usually almost converge to the topics of senseis Komatsubara and Seiyama, the two young male teachers who are quite cool (news of the week: the former is getting married, what’s poor Mayu going to talk about now?). I think there’s a photo of them singing in the entry about the school culture festival if you want to see what I mean. She always finds a way to mention one or the other, no matter what we’re talking about.

A few days later, I was invited to cake and tea with the Sasaki-senseis (both of them), the home ec. teacher, Mira-sensei the nurse and the tuckshop [intl. English: School Store] lady. I really appreciate their consideration and don’t discount their kindness when I say… it was incredibly awkward making polite conversation with five women (some of whom I don’t know really well) who – let’s face it – like talking to “cute” (I quote) young foreign guys.

Here is something beautiful that I found in the gutter. Go create some sentimental meaning for yourselves.

This entry’s excuse for incoherency is the fact that I’m just getting over a very weak cold. I might add one or two pictures later, check again soon.

An out-of-the ordinary ordinary weekend

Let me explain…

Wednesday night dinner
Strictly speaking, Wednesday night is not part of the weekend, but I’ll document the out-for-dinner-with-HF experience anyway. While my previous HF said that busy-ness (as opposed to business?) was the reason they had little time to talk to me, the Kouno family use
it as an excuse to go out for dinner. I like that. Although we eat the fantastic 4+ course banquets created by HM and HS Yoshiko every other night, going out is still a welcome change.

Tonight, it was a Chinese-ish restaurant in Hamada. I had half a bowl of hot udon noodles sprinkled with pepper. I think I’ve just found another wonderfood to get me through winter. Also ordered a small bamboo basket with three dumplings (as you would at Yum Cha), they were so-so.

Witnessed a bit of conflict in the open/everybody-can-see kitchen, one of the chefs grabbed another by the front of his shirt and started yelling under his breath. Obviously he wanted to shout but couldn’t do it in front of all the customers. The chef doing the yelling had a hair cut that reminded me of an acquaintance back in Australia with the initials LG, while the yellee reminded me of a more confident TM. By the way, I don’t expect anybody to recognise those initials, it’s for my own sake when I read this again later. Yelling over, the yeller went back to confidently tossing around some rice that was being fried in a wok, while the yellee sucrried off and cut in half two cherry tomatoes.

I liked the fact that all the staff in the restaurant were young – it looked as if they might have finished school only a few years ago. I also liked the fact that the food tasted good.

Thursday top-secret trip
Strictly speaking, Thursday isn’t a part of the weekend either, but I won’t document how instead of going to school I hopped a train to do something a little out of the ordinary. I won’t tell you where I went and who I saw before they do something that I’m not going to tell you, because that’s a secret.

Friday morning bike inspection
Strictly speaking, Friday morning is the morning before the weekend. But it was on this morning I was greeted by PE teachers Miahara-sensei and Oos-lady (I don’t know her real name but she always greets me with a hearty ‘Oos’ because she’s the Judo coach) out the front of the school, they were checking if all the students were locking their bikes. I’ve always had a slight phobia of PE teachers ever since the particular one I had at the start of my high school career, which did nothing to calm me down upon realising that my bike lock would not work. Oos-lady directed me to Miahara-sensei who squirted my lock with some lubricant, but to no avail. He said it was OK, I believed him.

Saturday morning school attendance
Strictly speaking by Australian definitions, school should never be attended on the weekend but it was this Saturday morning. I went to school, I wasted some time, I went home. The interesting part of Saturday, however, was when I went to bid HF good night, but nobody was in the lounge room where thy usually are. I made my way to the bathroom/laundry where I could hear some noises indicative of HF presence, so I popped my head around.

Just as I was saying good night, I saw host mum standing there stark naked putting clothes in the washing machine before having a bath. As you do. It looks like she didn’t notice me, so I retreated back down the hallway and said good night again, a bit louder this time. The evening greeting was reciprocated, followed by some babble along the lines of ‘I’ve got no clothes on! I’ve got no clothes on!!!’. I know that, HM.

Now because my real mum back at home spends half the time around the house naked anyway, my initial reaction was something like, ‘HM is doing the washing without any clothes on, that’s cool’. But then I felt shocked, and it was shock for her because I don’t know what I’d do if she saw me looking at her without any clothes on.

But in the end, it didn’t really matter, although I must say that I do look at HM in a different way now. Just to clarify, seeing my host mum nude was not the highlight of my weekend.

Sunday’s Japanese class
I woke up on Sunday morning at the unreasonable time of 8:17 to the chime of my mobile phone. It was an email from Nogami-sensei, my extra-curricular Japanese teacher in Hamada. Because the train most suited for Sunday arvo Japanese lessons is about an hour too early, Nogami suggested that she take me out for lunch today at the university that she works at. I went back to sleep, figuring I could email back at a more reasonable hour, but she ended up calling me at 10:15 to get me out of bed.

For your information, my train was at 11:28 so I was by no means rushing to get ready. There were two police officers standing at the back of the train, I wondered what they were doing. Do they transport prisoners on regular trains? I also saw a VERY young man with his two baby girls get on, it looked like they had been to the aquarium AQUAS that morning. I was amazed at the level of parenting being displayed for a man who looked like he was just out of school. But then again, all Japanese people look younger than they really are.

Arrived at Hamada station, drove out to the Uni with Nogami, who explained that they were having their annual festival. Walked through the food stalls operated by students, I was greeted by a few shouts of “Hello! How are you! I’m fine thankyou and you!”. I considered telling those students that I was French or German or some other non-English-speaking nationality. But what if they could speak French or German? I’d be in a tough spot then.

Finally found the stall that was operated by some Chinese exchange students, we bought their dough sticks, fried pastry thing and congee. I pulled the camera out of my back pocket before I sat down on a bench to eat and forgot to put it back when we went walking later. I was slightly worried when I figured out it was missing, but then I remembered I was in Japan where people generally don’t nick things. Went back to the bench and there it was. Relief.

At the group volunteer Japanese lesson this week was Nishimoto-san, a 19 year old guy from Hiroshima who studies at the local Uni. He was there helping, I thought it was great to have someone there from a similar demographic as opposed to one of the many older ladies (whose help I appreciate nonetheless). By the way, I found this graph on Wikipedia… and everyone knows how much I absolutely adore graphs:

Age and population distribution graphs (2005), click for source
LEFT: Shimane (purple) vs. National average (green)
RIGHT: Male (blue) vs. Female (red) distribution in Shimane

…finally I know why I have so many old lady friends!!! It’s pure statistics, that’s all. Just look at all those red bars that start at the 60-year section. There are generally more old people and less young people in Shimane compared to the national average, that checks a couple of criteria for classifying a place as “A Hole”. Notice also the big dint in both genders 60 years ago corresponding with the later part of the war. And all the babies that followed soon after!

Today’s lesson with Nogami was spent fleshing out Passive, Causative and Causative-Passive verb conjugations (about time too). It took me 45 minutes to realise that causative-passive is called that because it is derived from the both causative form and the passive form. DUH. Anyway, it now means that I can slowly construct sentences like: “Tanaka had her purse stolen by a robber”, “Lipton Milk Tea wakes me up in the morning” and “Host Mum made me clean my room”.

I was on my way home on my all time favourite Yasugi-bushi (it’s Japanese culture, OK) themed train (above), comparatively analysing the behaviour of the young couple fondling each other in one corner of the carriage and a similarly aged, girlfriend-less member of the Hamada High School Baseball Squad (I read it on his bag) punching away at his phone. I think baseball can take over so much of your life, I’ve seen a few young guys who live for nothing else. Would you rather the sport or the evolutionary interest?

We entered a tunnel half way between Hamada and Shimoko stations, I was listening to the Cat Empire concert that I had recorded the night before. I think the song at the exact moment was So Many Nights. I remembered that my phone had gone off during the lesson with Nogami, I had forgotten to read the new email until now. And it was there, in the middle of a tunnel surrounded by granny gardens and rice paddies, in the company of a baseballer, a boyfriend and a girlfriend that I learned I’d be voting in an Australian election for the first time from Japan. I like that. While I’d vote anyway (even though it’s not compulsory when you’re overseas), I think I can also take advantage of this special opportunity to go to Osaka and vote in person. “Excuse me, Ootake-sensei I can’t come to school on Friday for reasons of democratic participation…” What a great excuse.

Sunday evening Kinuya visit
Got home, remembered that I had to go for a trip to the supermarket/105 yen shop Kinuya to shop for:

• Two pots for my basil plants, it’s new moon again
• Blank CD, won’t say what for
• Bike lock following Friday’s incident. 6tothe4=1296 combinations for 105 yen (tax inclusive), you can’t beat that for bicycle security.
• Yogurt or other goodies for immediate consumption

When I arrived at Kinuya, I bumped into Jun, a member of my class at school as well as the baseball team. He had just finished baseball practice at an insane hour (7PM on a Sunday evening), nothing strange about that, and was stopping by for some pre-packaged goodies on his way home. Let me tell you a little bit more about Jun before continuing…

Jun actually looks just a bit like David who I worked with on the mango farm, but in a Japanese way. However, from previous experience I’ve found that nobody ever agrees when I suggest a similarity – however so slight – in two entirely different people. Which makes that first sentence redundant.

Upon meeting Jun for the first time, it was apparent to me that he had very little interest in school and lived almost solely for baseball. Together with his friend Shou (also baseball team), he would have an expression of utmost disinterest and indifference on his face for 98% of the school day. A similarity to the guy on the train? It seems that most of the less academically inclined kids end up in the English course, it’s a bit of a shame really. A couple of months in to my stay here, I adopted the position of “Mitcherru-sensei” to Jun during the English Writing class, it was there that our friendship started.

Friendship efforts were going well in the lead up to the whole-school volleyball tournament, and even during the tournament I was surprised at how well I was contributing to the efforts of my class. It was funny to see the five generally dysfunctional boys of my class performing so well during volleyball, because even though we were doing a reasonably good job there was still very few expressions of interest in what we were doing. Nobody seemed to care when we crushed the opposition with ease or managed to return a difficult ball. We just got in and did it.

During the lunch break, I experienced with Jun what I consider my first “Teenage boys’ conversation” in Japan:

Jun: So Mitchell, how big is your ????
Me: [Obviously lacking the appropriate vocabulary] I’m sorry, I don’t understand.
Jun: [makes a crude hand gesture]
Me: Oh, you want to know how big my dick is…
Jun: Yes
Me: [thinking: "It changes depending on a number of factors, as I'm sure you can relate. Maybe I could furnish you with a series of explanatory graphs such as Size vs Arousal, Size vs Temperature, Size vs Time of Day and Size vs Proximity to... a whole range of things. Then we could apply differential calculus and figure out if I'm suffering from erectile dysfunction, are you interested in that too? But you'd have to give me enough time to make them. Also, are you looking for a measurement in centimeters, inches, or something else? What degree of error is acceptable? By the way, now that I think about it... I think that your question is too vague." Obviously an inappropriate comment given the casual situation, not to mention there's no way I could say it all so instead I replied:] Well, err…
Jun: Do you want to see mine? [the grin on his face indicates he is joking]

… and I consider that to be the height of our relationship. I thought it was hilarious that out of all the intercultural differences to choose from, this guy was most interested in how big my dick was. I also thought it was great that I was having such a ‘regular’ conversation, I was sick of talking about where I come from, my family and school, university entrance and all those other boring things that everyone asks about.

However, progressing into a more advanced game against class “volleyball central” 2-2, Jun set me up the perfect spike. Being the idiot that I was, I was convinced the ball was going to go over the net to the other team, so I did nothing. I stood there watching as the ball came down right before me on my side of the net, it was only then that I realised that I was supposed to tap the ball over the net in a way such that it could not be returned by the opposing team. DUH.

I obviously didn’t apologise enough (it’s the Japanese way of handling things if you let your team down in any way, shape or form), and since then Jun has ignored me. I sort of don’t blame him either.

…but when I noticed Jun in the middle of the snack aisle, I caught his eye and we traded a smile that communicated the feeling of ‘I know who you are, we go to school together every day but now I’m seeing you outside of our regular environment’. I also saw him on my way out, two pots, blank CD, bike lock and yogurt for immediate consumption in hand. Again, the smile and wave was reciprocated, maybe we’re getting somewhere here.

Monday morning lock check
OK, Monday morning isn’t part of the weekend. Strictly speaking. But it’s close enough. Lucky I invested 105 yen in bicycle security, there was a whole team of POLICE and other CONCERNED CITIZENS waiting to greet the students at the bike racks. Seven orders of magnitude scarier than Miahara-sensei and Oos lady had been on Friday. Locked my bike up, went to school. That afternoon, I found a blue piece of paper stuck to my handlebars. My first traffic infringement? Turns out that I had applied the lock to the front wheel and not the back like I should have. Yoshimi tells me the check was carried out because a lot of bikes are stolen in the winter, reason unknown.

Monday evening calligraphy
Again, not strictly a part of the weekend. Rode the same train as HB1: Koyo, even though I sat next to him I still worry at how little I talk to him. I also understand that’s the way he is, though. I recognised on the train a few strangers who I had seen before, inculding one high school guy who had ridden with me in silence all the way from Matsue to Gotsu with his bow and arrows (he had been to archery competition that day). Had a good time walking Maro along the beach at dusk, there was a chilly breeze but I was OK in my jeans and brown jacket. That dog is impossible to photograph, I tell you. There’s no way he’ll sit still, ever.

Tonight I tried for the first time calligraphy with a pencil. Out of all the poetic sentiments and deep, emotive expressions available to choose to spend the time writing beautifully, I had a good laugh at tonight’s literary selection:

図書室に入る前には、手をよくあらおう。
Before entering the library, let’s wash our hands well.

That’s why I chose it. I love it.

Ate some curry rice with HD, after which I was presented with a massive bag as an early birthday present. Inside was a grey jumper, the first piece of of DC clothing I can say I’ve owned. Fits perfectly. By the way, what should I do in my last few legal days of childhood? What crimes should I commit and not be tried as an adult? I hope nobody picks that comment and takes it out of context, hunts me down, cancels my visa, deports me from Japan and imprisons me for the rest of my life as a terrorist suspect. IT’S A JOKE.

Had a good chat on the train home with Shina from my 2-3 class. She had been to Oda city to visit her friend. I enjoyed our one-on-one conversation in the empty train, I find such situations much more relaxing and meaningful than en masse socialisation.

By the way, it’s Autumn now
The cold weather’s finally here. Apparently it’s late, but I’m not complaining that we had an extended summer. Honestly, the weather we’re experiencing now feels like mid-winter to me, but it’s only the start of Autumn.

I now have the warm goodness of a super-thick futon on my bed at night, and my house slippers magically transformed one day from the summer variant into the winter ones I have now. They’re slippery on the polished wooden floor, I feel like an ice skater sometimes and look like an idiot when I purposely slide around the house in my slippers.

On a parting note, I found this bug eating it’s lunch (probably her mating partner), thought you might like to see:

Again, sorry for my lack of botheredness when it comes to editing 3000 word blog posts.

Assorted bits of my life #2

Crepes
Finally got round to making them last week. Came home from school early (mid-term exams finish at lunchtime) and had nothing else to do… so I made crepes. I felt a little bit sick after eating 1.25 cups of flour, 1.5 cups of milk, 2 eggs, some sugar and vanilla essence and a tablespoon of melted trick-me butter PLUS Lisa’s very naughty chocolate sauce, kiwifruit, banana, cream that had been whipped, lemon and more sugar. But it was good.

I ended up making them later that same day for everyone else, much to the approval of host family. Their ‘this tastes good’ comments were genuine. I felt better.

New running track
Happy to announce that at last I’ve found a new place to run. Here it is! Yay! This course takes me under the bypass (which I think is quite beautiful around sunset) and past the rice paddies. I see lots of old men and women (rice farmers) burning off the excess foliage after the harvest. One day an old truck with a dad and three or four kids inside pulled over to gawk (in a nice way) at me, I thought it was pretty funny. If I had my camera with me I would have stopped and gawked back, then taken a few photos. Do they have hillbillies in Japan? I think I might have found some.

Marimo
Acquaintances from my year 10 Japanese class (Emma? Matt? Haichu? Kate? Who else was there…) would know all about marimo and their many uses ranging from pet to pizza topping. Good news, everyone! I’ve found a pair of marimo sitting on the kitchen counter, obviously tamed from the wild population in the lakes of Hokkaido. I enjoy their company every night during dinner.

Japanese study
Japanese study is coming along… OK I suppose. I discovered at long last the difference between transitive and intransitive verbs, being that transitive verbs require a subject and an object, where as intransitive verbs only have an subject.

Transitive: Kaori shut the door [the door is the object, Kaori is the subject]
Intransitive: The door is shut [the door is the subject]
(I think so anyway. Let me know if you know better!)

My excitement started to fade when I learned that there is no grammatical rule for converting between transitive and intransitive, and that I have to learn two very similar verbs as a pair. That’s twice the work!

Assorted bits of my life #1

Nose Matters

Japanese people often point to the tip of their nose when referring to themselves, much in the same way westerners point to their chest.

“Who, me?” all this way and you say its my problem?

With that in mind, I consider it an indication on my adoption of the Japanese ways to find that I have a huge red pimple on the very tip of my nose. I’m sure it’s there because I talk about myself a lot. The Astronomy Department would probably find this news hilarious and want to see a picture, but I think that said pimple is disgusting enough on my nose, let alone on the entire interweb. Instead of showing off my symbol of Japanese integration to the 3-3 [3rd grade-3rd class for those who aren't in the know] Calligraphy class, I’ve decided to instead come to the computer room and blog about it.

“Ehur, Miccheru I hab wa… Noze Worter. Do you *sniff* know?”

Speaking of disgusting things to do with noses, some friends who caught the change-of-season cold recently told me that they had ‘nose water’, the direct translation of the word for ‘runny nose’. Peach Water, Chorus Water and so many other drinks can be bought at the convenience store, so I was surprised to hear about ‘nose water’. After learning of its true meaning, I couldn’t help but think of a 1 liter carton full of nose dribblings, “Nose Water (reduced to 98 yen)” written on the front.

Of course, blowing your nose is impolite in Japan, so everybody either lets the snot dribble down their face in silent torment or snorts it back up in a swift, powerful gulp/snore/scowl-kind of thing. The kind of gulp/snore/scowl kids back at home are told not to do. The sound of the mucus-relocation mechanism is similar to that of the Accounts Department snoring, but a lot more abrupt. There’s a girl in home room who does it repeatedly during the morning notices when everyone’s quiet, one gulp/snore/scowl every 10 seconds or so.  I find it strange that in a people who generally keep things quiet and try not to stand out, making loud, blatantly obvious noises that say nothing other than ‘I’ve just ingested my on mucus’… is OK.

The library

I was killing some time in the school library the other day, nobody else was in there.  I stumbled apon the thick book section full of books that nobody ever uses, including an old copy of the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary.  I pulled one book off the shelf, but the paper on its spine had turned to dust.  I soon replaced the book and wiped the brown dust off my hands.  There was a small series of picture books about religion (some, including Judaism, Christianity and Islam, would be hardly known here).  I realised that I can’t ever recall seeing a Jewish person in real life.

I heard a few footsteps a couple of shelves away and some noises that seemed to indicate someone was looking at books (as you’d expect in a library).  I stuck my head out from behind a shelf and saw the nurse Mira-sensei browsing the magazines.  She jumped when she saw me, but then explained that she was saving money by reading the magazines at school (instead of buying them) and that she also had nothing to do.

I decided to help Mira-sensei find some books to read, I pulled some random titles off the shelf.  Dictionaries, volumes of Japanese history, a family health encyclopedia, a brown-paged book on particle physics.  None of them seemed to interest her.  Mira-sensei then introduced me to a book written by the Hattori-senseis, a husband and wife who teach Japanese and Calligraphy respectively at school.  The professionally published book was about when they lived in Korea for a few years, making a family at the same time.  You learn something every day.

“In pool したい”

…heard that one from Yohei, one of the guys from the water polo club who’s in my beloved 3-3 English Com class.  We were waiting for a class on the balcony overlooking the water polo pool when he made the passing comment, which I think I understand despite its grammatical incorrectness in both languages.  I think it’s to do with the fact that it’s his last year at school, and as it gets cooler the water polo team will shift pools to an indoor, heated one to train for the big competition in January (I think).  But he probably likes this pool better, I’m guessing there are a lot of memories associated with it.  He doesn’t want to not swim in it again, and would rather spend every possible moment in that pool with his mates before he, inevitably, leaves school and his beloved water polo club in the winter.  Water Polo means a lot to Yohei, and he’s missing it already.  I would have told him that I know that feeling all too well, but I didn’t realise what he meant until a few days later.  But maybe I’m wrong and I’m putting a completely crazy interpretation on a simple comment.

Taiko, rules

I’ve run in to some problems regarding the logistics of Taiko.  Because the practise venue is so far away, I get home at about 11.30 at night.  School rules, however, dictate that students must finish all other activities at 10.00 and be home by 10.30 at the latest.  Of course, parents dutifully enforce these rules – HF included.  They cite the numerous problems that would arise if I were to be involved in an accident after 10.30 and the blame that would be placed on them as reasons for their concern.  Fair enough.

While consulting Sato-sensei about this rule, I also found out that students aren’t allowed to stay over at their friends’ house AT ALL – although he invoked the ever-friendly ”Gaijin Pass” (occasional leniency towards non-Japanese people living in Japan) on this one and exempted me.  These two rules about how students spend their private time are all in the name of reducing the number of opportunities for kids to do “naughty things” like a smoking and drinking an alcohol.  Apparently, the ability of the Japanese youth to do “naughty things” is directly proportional to the size of the outside-school gathering and the time of night.

But I’m on the blunt end of sugh regulations.  I can see the point, which is fair enough, but it sucks nonetheless.

Nikuman

As someone familiar with the ever-tasty Chinese cha sui baau, I was pleasantly surprised to find the Japanese interpretation, the nikuman, on sale at Lawson.  HF tells me it’s a seasonal food that comes out for the winter – I’ll go home before it leaves the steamers at Lawson which is good.  I’m looking forward to a nikuman-filled winter; I’ve already had one near-death experience in which nikuman saved me.

Coming home from Matsue from that rendezvous with Gareth, a storm had developed by the time I arrived at Gotsu station.  A desire to both economise and excercise that morning inspired me to ride not to the closer Tsunozu station, but to Gotsu (a good 10 minutes away) in an effort to save about 100 yen.  Now I had to ride all the way back in the heavy rain.  Drenched by the time I was approaching the local Lawson convenience store, the thought of warm, steamy nikuman goodness lured me inside.  I cannot begin to describe how good the small, steamed white bun in my hand felt as my cold, wet body moved through the rain.  My lips made contact with the nikuman, the hot surface was soft and springy.  As my upper and lower teeth came together, it felt as if they were sinking in to a slightly condensed cloud.  But inside the shell of pure fluffiness was a conglomerate of minced pork, shiitake mushrooms and crunchy bits of arbitrary vegetable.  I lightly chewed for a few seconds – that was all it needed – and swallowed.  I could feel a gentle hot sensation move down my throat and into the middle of my torso, sustaining me just enough to get home in the unseasonably heavy, cold rain.  The rest of this description may have been exaggerated just a bit, but the last part about the warm lump of nikuman becoming one with my body was 100% accurate.  I think that feeling is the essence of eating a nikuman.

That’s one reason to look forward to winter.

I have more things I want to write about, but I’ll leave it here for now lest we wait another week for the full post.

Assorted bits of my life #0

This post is full of the little bits and pieces that aren’t worth anything on their own. I felt the need to post seeing how I haven’t done so in a while, so here they are…

Some pictures to start off with: I went for a walk at dusk around my new town (Ninomiya) and took this photo looking towards the general direction of the sea. I like Ninomiya, there are a lot of rice paddies being harvested right now, and they still have a lovely sweet smell about them. Speaking of plants, I’ve found a few houses that actually have a well-kept lawn, a real surprise for me here in Japan. Other houses have been cutting the wild grass that grows on the patches of land nobody uses, that’s one of the smells I’ve been missing here – cut grass. Mmmm. Am I a cow or something?

The next photo across is the view from my bedroom window on a rainy day, you might be able to just make out the paddies and even a burial plot at the foot of the hill. On the right we have three guys from the handball club who caught me on a “Japanese walk” (ie. walking around taking lots of photos) and formed this inviting pose in an instant. Of all the popular sports clubs (handball, water polo, volleyball and baseball), I like the guys from water polo and handball the best. They’re energetic and bright, I can always have a laugh with them either in class or out. I think the volleyball team can be a bit elitist at times, and my impression of the baseball team is that a lot (but not all) of the members put little effot into school and aren’t always the brightest.

My |favourite| drink of all time, Lipton Milk Tea, was on special at the local Kinuya supermarket – 1 liter for 98 yen. That’s cheaper than petrol. I could have bought a fuel tank’s worth of milk tea and had a bath of it if I felt like it, OK I’m salivating at the thought so let’s stop there. Let me describe: Milk Tea, as the name suggests, is the result of the addition of black tea, milk, and a little sweetener. So good. If ever I have a late night, milk tea usually wakes me up the next morning. Milk Tea, will you marry me?

Which reminds me, that’s one of the phrases I’ve been using a lot lately. If I really like something, I’ll say that I want to marry it. I’ve said I want to marry: Mt Sanbe, Asari beach, the Pon de Lion figure from Mister Donut, Mos Burger… it’s a pretty long list. The next most used grammar pattern is [adjective] + “to the power of…”. Shamelessly taken right out of the maths textbook, mind you. That one helps me out all the time, I can now express my feelings in greater depth using the same limited vocabulary. “I’m so tired… to the power of 53″, or “It was fun to the power of 497″. I know I’m dribbling ..it when I express my genkiness in powers of the imaginary number i, sometimes I’ll say “I’m feeling good to the power of 16.2i” just to see what kind of reaction I get. Usually a confused look.

ESS (English Speaking Society) had a birthday party recently for three of its members. I’ll introduce from left to right: Ashley, Yoshimi-sensei, (one girl whose name I’m ashamed to say I don’t know), the back of Tomo’s head, Mayu next to the coke, Kensuke standing up and Takae. Mayu is the girl who explained to me what happens at the local love hotel “Apple House” using creative mime and a TV set. She’s now 16 and legal to marry, where as I’ll be legal to marry when I turn 18 next month. Because of this, we decided to marry each other (because we can) as soon as I turn 18. Mayu pulled me up during cleaning the other day to introduce me to her friends as her fiancée. The exchange program I’m on has a ‘no-dating policy’, but it didn’t mention anything about engagement or marriage, so I think we’re safe. See you next month, Mayu!

This is Host Dad brushing his teeth on the horse riding machine we have. That’s right, we have a machine that pretends it’s a horse, how crazy is that? Darrel the ALT tells me his girlfriend’s mum has one too and that it’s the latest excercise craze here in Japan, the rocking motion apparently wobbles away all the excess flab you’ve got on your belly. You can brush your teeth, watch TV, listen to music on it… Ashley and I were brainstorming inventive ways to use it. Fly a kite. Study Japanese (suck suck). Drink Milk Tea. Post a comment, what should I do on this machine?

Providers of the twice-weekly lift to Taiko practise Yohei and Eri are off getting married in Hiroshima and honeymooning in the Philippines. Honey-mooning, astronomy department would you be able to tell me anything about that? Anyway, a plan was made between myself and fellow Taikoists Yuko (I think that’s her name) and Trixie the ALT. Yuko didn’t want to drive all the way because she didn’t trust her driving skills, so Trixie would drive and Yuko would navigate. I would translate as needed. Our collective inexperience in navigating the backroads to the middle-of-nowhere practise venue found us in the forest on some very windy (to the power of 22.89), skinny one-lane roads mountain tracks with tar on top. We got a little worried but found our way eventually.

I really liked the drive to Taiko this time, the almost-full moon was out illuminating the thin wispy clouds as they floated over the river Gou and between the mountains. The stars were out and the rest of the sky clear, I felt like I should have been playing cops’n'robbers or similar in the crisp, cool air, getting my feet wet with dew and covered in grass clippings. An open fire would have been good too. OK, enough youthful reminiscence. I think Autumn is getting about, although to me it feels more like winter.

A few months ago I did an English lesson with some 5th grade elementary school students, I now pass that school on my way home each day. Usually I’ll see the kids grouped in twos or threes walking each other home, they’ll look at me and I’ll smile and wave. I keep riding, but just before I’m out of earshot I’ll always catch a small whisper of ‘hello’. Every time.

There was a holiday this Monday, I went to rendezvous with Gareth (exchange student in the adjacent prefecture Tottori) up the road in Matsue. We made it to Matsue Castle (the photo is from the surrounding park), but didn’t get much further because it started to rain… we sat in a small hut amongst some giant rose bushes in the garden below and talked for an hour until the rain cleared. Then we slowly made it back to the train station, although we stumbled upon a music shop. Finally, I know where to buy sheet music!

This has nothing to do with Japan or the price of Milk Tea in Tanzania, but you should read it anyway.

That’s all!

Fugwa and Fish

Offered to cook this Saturday, HF found it convenient seeing how they’d be back home later than usual. Which was a better response than the one I received last time I offered to cook for a HF!!!

Menu
Goya Stuffed with Mince and Other Good Things in Gravy
Fish, Steamed and Served with Lightly Fried Ginger and Shallots
Crepes with Cream, Whipped; Bananas, Chopped and Chocolate Sauce, Served Warm
*Goya is the Japanese name for Fugwa (Chinese) or Bitter Melon (round eye)

Preemptively went out to buy the ingredients with HS Yoshiko Friday arvo at the supermarket Akebono. All was well. Started cooking the fugwa and mince, all was well. Cooked the mince a bit too long, all was well because it meant that we wouldn’t be eating raw mince. Made a respectable gravy using Japanese cornflour, all was well.

But then came the task of cooking the fish – all was not well. I was expecting someone to be home to assist me in this regard, but nobody was. Anyway, I scraped the scales off with a fork and crudely pulled all the guts out. I think I pulled a few more guts out than I should, because when I was done there was a gaping hole in the bottom of the fish were the belly should have been. Anyway, not knowing where things were in this kitchen I improvised a fish steamer out of a pan, two strainers and a roll of alfoil, it worked quite well. Unfortunately, the makeshift tray upon which the fish lay was far too small and the head became slightly disjointed during the cooking. I also didn’t cut lines in the fish before cooking as suggested by the Accounts Department AFTER we had eaten dinner, so the skin curled up and looked bad. All was NOT well as I lifted the floppy, mutilated fish out of the pan and onto the plate, feeling slightly disheartened. Even though I think I cooked it just about right (neither dry nor slimy), I couldn’t help but remember the comment all the way from grade 8 Home Ec. that “People eat with their eyes”. Do people vomit bad looking food out of their eyes too?

Frying of ginger and shallots went well, although I figured I should have added the ingredients separately, again, AFTER having done it.

 

I was quite pleased at myself having cooked two thirds of the meal already, and put it on the table ready for dinner. HF came, we ate. They had comments like, ‘mmmmm’, ‘it tastes good’ and ‘thank you’. I know from those comments that things weren’t good, HF was less than impressed. Otherwise they would have said things like, ‘eria, ne!’, like I see that happen all the time on TV, people like to sample food on screen. HF asked if I gutted the disfigured fish myself, I cringed as I said yes, I could tell what they were thinking.

Then I offered to make crepes. “Are you good at making crêpes?”, they asked with a smile. But we were all full, so crêpes will have to be another night.

I wasn’t displeased with the result myself, but felt bad about testing these recipes on the HF because now they don’t trust my cooking…. hehe.

 

Update on Asari Affairs

Monday: We haven’t had a Calligraphy class in so long, host mum 1 decided to hold one on Monday night this week. It was a busy afternoon for me, riding in to town, taking an ID photo to send with the Japanese Language Proficiency Test form, increasing my Misdo Club points (read: ‘getting fat at Mister Donut’), stopping by to see Trixie the ALT about Taiko but instead talking to Karen for a good 15 minutes because Trixie wasn’t home. Finally I rushed back home to change out of my sweaty clothes and catch the 18:18 Aqualiner to Asari.

Walking to the M. family for Calligraphy, I spotted my medium-term friends, the Mimachi family. I hadn’t seen them in months, so I detoured over to talk to them. They tell me they hear so much about me on the grape vine, TV and newspaper – and I thought I was keeping a reasonably low profile! The two young kids there are just great, they see me off with ‘see ya!’ (which I taught them months ago) and run down the street to wave.

Made it to the M. family just in time to start, Koyo met me at the door. I think he’s caught a cold. Went strait through to the old, Japanese-style calligraphy room where I spent the next hour or so writing 道連天地 – without figuring out what it means. At the end of the class I went back to the main house to eat the dinner host mum had made for me – omuraisu (fried rice wrapped in omelet… omu+rice, geddit?) and salad. The plate and cup I used were the ones I used when I stayed here every day, it really is like coming home for dinner. I noticed the signs I put up around the house were still there, most notably ‘こちらは防災江津市です’ – ‘This is Gotsu City Disaster Prevention’ above the radio that said those exact same words every morning, evening and night. Host Dad needs to listen to GCDP because he works at the council.

Koyo stayed upstairs, presumably with his cold, while HM and HD drove me back to the station. They waited until the train came, HM was reminiscing about her high school days when the station had two tracks (so that trains could pass each other) instead of the one it has now, and a store instead of an ATM. She obviously hasn’t been here for a very long time. We all commented about how cool the air was and how it must soon be Autumn (although the air felt more like it was halfway to winter for me).

I do remember documenting the friendly atmosphere on the late-night diesel trains, but tonight was different. I was almost alone in the one carriage of light making its way through the dark, cool countryside. There were a few quiet old ladies, but most noticeable person was a businessman who looked more like an axe murder, the cold fluorescent light illuminating his bony face. I’m sure he wasn’t what I thought he was, but that’s the idea I got… alone at night but for some old grannies and a serial killer, who knows when and what he’ll pull out of that smart, carefully guarded briefcase of his?

I left the diesel train and boarded my own train of thought while reclaiming my bike at Tsunozu station: there was a little bit of dew on the seat. Not quite morning dew. Blow Away the Morning Dew, wasn’t that a song I rote-memorised for a theory of music exam back in the day? There’s no way I could transcribe it now, why did the bigwigs at the AMEB ever decide to make it part of the syllabus? Why didn’t they choose the tune entering my ears through my earphones: “Uh, uh-ah / Get your payments from the nation / For your trials and tribulations”

---

Saturday: I missed the train for Calligraphy this Saturday, I was waiting at the red light opposite from the station as I saw my train leave. I went to the station anyway just to make sure I had missed the train; the next one was almost two hours later. I hung around for a few minutes while I called HF1 to tell them I’d be really late today, Host Dad was almost dispatched to collect me at the station a good 20 minutes away but I refused. While I was hanging, I noticed a bottle brush flower in the station flower display, I’m sure I’ve mentioned seeing them here in Japan before. They’re stalking me I’m sure, these flowers. A bus full of old people pulled up, I was staring at it for a while until I realised that my second host mum (the ‘quiet’ one) was staring back. I stared at her for a little longer, just to make sure that she was who I thought she was so I wouldn’t be waving at a complete stranger. It was a feeling of, ‘I’m looking in your general direction, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve noticed you’. It probably took a while to identify her because I never really saw much of her even when I was living at her house, and when I did she had looked away. She disembarked with the old people (probably the ones from her work, it looked like they were off to a funeral), but never looked back in my direction. By now, I had a smile and a wave ready but the opportunity didn’t present itself. It felt like the epilogue of a movie, after the two of us had spent so much time ‘together’ (supposedly) we had now gone our own ways in life, HM indifferently guiding her oldies and me waiting for a train. Such a surreal feeling, seeing her again out of the host family context.I rode home (only a few minutes away) to wait for my train in the comfort of a fan and a book.

Finally made it to Asari, stopped in at Lawson to buy some Putchin Pudding. Went to eat Putchin Pudding with Asari-Aachan and Jiichan (HM1′s parents, remember?), had to reassure them NUMEROUS TIMES that I hadn’t forgotten them as they had feared, for I hadn’t seen them for weeks due to inter-prefectural camps, bad weather and general business on both HM1 and my parts. Stayed for almost an hour, Aachan told me how she had learnt about my host fam upgrade from my current host dad, who she knows well and had met just last week. He must know so many people as a Shinto priest, I’m sure. Anyway, she’s been smuggling food to me through host dad – I had no idea that I had recently eaten anything of Asari-Aachan’s creation, but she asked me how it was. I had to say that I really liked it and that she’s a good cook, whatever it was I ate. Finally she rummaged around her purse to find a little envelope for me, I could tell there was money inside. “I gave Koyo some money for the holidays, so I have to give you some too”, she tells me with a smile. “Ssshh… Just don’t tell host mum, OK?” How cute, it seems like some grandmothers are the same the world over. Of course, I couldn’t refuse to take this old lady’s money – she had written my name on the envelope – so it means that I have to see her a bit more than I have been. It’s so sweet of her, but I can’t help but think that my affections are being bought by the old ladies of Japan, even though that’s not really how it works.

Arrived at the M. household far too late for the calligraphy class, so I walked the Maro dog (who still remembers me) before going with HM and HD to pick Nashi pears. Back when I was staying with the M family, we rented out for the season a Nashi tree in a nearby orchard. We had put little paper bags on the baby fruit, but now it was time to go and pick the first few fruit. And pick we did, although we only took about 30. ‘Only!?’, you say? – yes, the trees are loaded. See the picture. Lots of mosquitos, so we called it a day.

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