these walls are paper thin

just after 7am on sunday, mother's day. (hi mom!! i didn't forget!) i was woken by the little boy next door yelling to his grandma right outside my window. it sounded like the whole family was outside my window...building something. it's 7am!! but they've only disturbed me about three times in almost a year, so i didn't have the heart to go out and grouch at them. in japan the walls truly are paper thin--they're made of paper, so i've been incredibly lucky to have quiet neighbors.

usually i ride my bike to the store, but last week i decided to walk so i could listen to my ipod; i get really into my music. i was mulling over how safe i feel walking around japan, heedless of the people around me. i don't worry about lurkers waiting to rob me like i did in american cities. just then, an old woman emerged suddenly from a narrow passage between two houses and scared the crap out of me!! when i recovered, i laughed heartily imagining the look of terror that crossed my face because of a gentle old lady half my height!
speaking of ipods--i have the one on which you can watch movies or TV. if i'm going on a long train ride, i usually download something new to watch during the trip. last month i caught the cheaper local "stops at every station" train up to tsu, which is a 3 and a half hour ride. it was full to bursting with high schoolers riding home, but it quickly thinned out to the few students who live in farther away towns. i was in the midst of watching the latest episode of America's Next Top Model when i felt someone watching me. i met the eyes of a curious kid sitting on my left. he was inching closer and closer, craning his neck to see what i was looking at. without a word spoken, he reached my side and i tipped the screen so he could see it too. we sat in amicable silence watching the final few minutes of the show, after which he stood up and went back to his group of friends.

the weather is getting really gorgeous, so when i have the energy, i try to get out and walk in the remaining daylight after school. some evenings i hike partways up the little trail close to my house (where i first went with mr. M). the view is really incredible, and it doesn't take long to get up to a good vantage point. the smells along the way are also an interesting treat, since i pass people's houses on the way up. the first time i went, i smelled wax and bug spray, azaleas and cut grass. i paused to enjoy one of the last blooming cherry trees and shared a pleasant silence with another old woman watching the sun go down. she told me to watch my step as i continued up the trail alone. the first really good view is from a grove of plum trees, so i turned off the trail there. it was so wonderfully empty of other people and so quiet. even in a small town like kumano, it's difficult to feel truly away from people sometimes. everything is so close together.

finding my own goodbye

many people asked me about how i felt following the death of my student, and i wanted to return to that briefly so you can have some closure on that chapter. the days following the news, tears leaked from my eyes with zero provocation. i just couldn't believe it. for once in my life, i was perfectly connected to my sadness. sometimes i can't seem to make contact with how i really feel. i felt it was important for me to go to kaori's wake, in spite of how startling my presence might be for the community. i needed to show my support and grief to the people who loved and knew her best. i had never been to any sort of funeral ceremony in japan, so i felt trepidation about what to do, but naoko was there to guide me.
i wore black, but i don't have any black shoes (how do i not have black shoes!?) so i had to wear some bright white tennis shoes. we drove in mostly silence; it was pretty far away, at least an hour and a half. it was the height of cherry blossom time, a widely celebrated part of spring in japan. i remember thinking that without this event, i would never have seen the wild cherry trees blooming stunningly among the pines on the mountainsides around kumano. i also wondered if spring would be tainted for kaori's family from now on. finally we arrived and walked under a low sky to the temple. blooming cherries lined the path, but in front of that were enormous matching boquets from the community. it was a hall of flowers. we paid our respects to the family inside the temple, and i got to see one final picture of her before i was blinded my my own tears. naoko led me as i stumbled back outside. for the next hour, we stood in the cold and mosquitoes as people arrived and left. i saw classmates and family, but no one seemed to weep as hard as me. i wondered why. were they just more private with their feelings? after an hour, though, my tears came more slowly and i watched the sunset as the skies cleared. it was an incredible evening, solemn but more and more beautiful. my spirits lifted, and then we drove home.

go-go-gatsu

it's open season on spider real estate, resulting in a hundred fresh new high-rise web condos erected overnight which line my short walk down the hill to school. bug season has officially begun. happy birthday to the billion mosquitoes born last week too. i saw something yesterday that resembled a very young mukade, and i watched it crawling with its many legs across the cement, trying to decide if i should kill it now or let it get bigger, find it again, and then kill it. i wasn't certain certain it was a mukade. desicions, desicions. the shy little grandson of the woman next door spoke to me for the first time as i scrutinized this bug, and i imagine he asked "what are you looking at?" so i just answered "a bug." i hope that's what he said! he might have asked, "where do you come from?" and i gave him a pretty confounding answer.
i just got back from a one-week vacation to tokyo and kyoto for the japan-wide celebration of "golden week," a week where several holidays fall together. the weather was gorgeous but for one rainy day. i had the novel job of "senior japanese speaker" and ordered several of our meals in restaurants. usually i'm the person who knows the least, so it was really a thrill. to their credit, marina's andrea and alix (first time in japan) seemed to do just fine on their own too.
some highlights from the trip were:
meeting a life-size Doraemon!


visiting my old pal the Scary Rabbit of Love:


and getting two free hugs as part of the Free Hug Campaign
oh yeah and seeing mt. fuji in person wasn't bad either.


being from colorado, and having lived only there and washington state hasn't really afforded me the chance to spend much time riding subway trains. i have always had a pure, unadulturated love for them, though. the idea that you can get across a big city in minutes for two dollars and have the chance to stare at people and sit in an industrially-maufactured plastic seat in a variety of colors is pure joy in so many ways! this week, i had the chance to ride the metro alone for the very first time. and it was fine (considering that no matter how you look at it, travelling alone by subway in another language is, well, a little lonely). i figured it out on my own, purchased my ticket, and then had the dismay to get the old "turnstile in the knees" treatment, indicating i had made a mistake of some kind like not paying enough. actually, i guess they were having problems with the tickets that day, because they just let me go through. sigh. the turnstiles don't hurt. it's more like a soft pat to the knees telling you gently but firmly, "now let's think about this. did you ride farther than you planned? do you have the right ticket? let's try it again." at least, that's what it says to me.
i keep meaning to talk about public sleeping, which is incredibly acceptable and relatively safe in japan. when i returned from visiting home last christmas, i had many grueling hours of travel which terminated in a ferry ride from nagoya airport to tsu. settling down in my chair, sleep was determined to overtake me. feeling safe and completely comfortable with being unconscious on a boat full of strangers, i gave in and had a delicious nap. that being said, i love studying the beautiful strangers of japan when they slumber near me. ordinarily i don't photograph them, but by way of example:


i planted some flowers about a month ago because i've moved so many times in the last, oh, nine years, that it hasn't really been worth it to invest the time. before that i had many gardens: flowers, herbs, vegetables. i've really been longing for the sweetness that growing things brings my heart. i never cease to be awed by the miracle of growing things, the smell of good old dirt, and the little space of peace it creates in my mind. last night i went outside to see how my plants were doing, smelled each different bloom (pinks, nasturtiums, petunias, daisies, sweet alyssum, and marigolds), and listened to the evening...pretty quiet. it's the week before mid-terms, so the students aren't allowed to stay late at school practicing sports or instruments. it's one of the only quiet weeks the whole year long. the blue evening was warm and i suddenly sniffed the elusive pine forest scent that i keep thinking i've imagined. it reminds me strongly of a childhood vacation in taos and lazy mornings in colorado's dry summer.

i promise this one isn't depressing

OI!
how does any writer keep up with the volumes of things which happen every day? in the last month, i've experienced enough to make an entire TV movie with a music montage or ten.
just today, i woke up feeling almost euphoric from a dream in which i met my true love. his name was Jim. he's literally the man of my dreams, and he seemed more real and more tangible than most dream guys. i can still vividly remember what it felt like to throw my arms around him.
it was a gorgeous morning, too.
the day was great--great classes, i packed a great lunch (too bad it smelled like dog food), and great students!! (i actually got told "you're cute" by one of the girls. this is like the universe gone wrong, when a japanese high school girl (the epitome of cute, c'mon!) tells me i'm cute.) so i was tired but satisfied when i headed to the grocery store on foot. (haha--i just wrote "on food")
oddly enough, i then met the first random foreigner in my town that i've seen in, oh, seven months or so. forgot to ask if his name was Jim.

here are three of the best spelling guesses for the word "motorcycle" from my students' worksheets. it makes me laugh every time i read them.




























more coming soon.

kaori

last week i ran into one of my first year students in mos burger. it was the first time i had seen her wear something other than her school uniform. i was startled at how beautiful and grown-up she looked in little heels and spring colors. she was all enthusiasm when she saw me. she hooked my arm like an old friend and peppered me with questions. when i sat down near her table, she introduced me to both her older sister and her little sister. she was glowing.
i was disappointed in myself for not knowing her name--she was one of the 300 students i had only once per week, but i did remember she had asked me if she looked truly japanese. after some consideration, i decided, no, not entirely...she looked like she could be from spain, maybe. when i told her this, it clearly thrilled her to be considered exotic-looking.
the next week i discovered her name was kaori. i was looking forward to seeing her again so i could call her by name, so i could demonstrate that i knew who she was and cared about her too.
i just found out kaori was killed in an accident two days ago.



my grief is startling. i feel she was stolen from my very hands. she was just here! there are no words.

the real me: pink hair and a teddy bear

back in the day i had a wide array of candy-colored hair.
a refresher:


well that impulse never left me, and i was given an opportunity to dress up to the tune of "japanese fashion" for lolly's birthday last week. i was feeling a little confused about why i even agreed to go--after all, i'd be spending $100 round-trip (plus dinner, drinks, and karaoke fees) for a single night of fun. why do i have to live so damn far away? but when i started to assemble my outfit, the truth dawned sudden and strong like a wind that blows you clear off your feet:

i love to play dress-up!

i love it so much that i will pay $150 just for a good opportunity to do it. if fake eyelashes and short skirts are involved, i'll even take off precious vacation hours just to get there early and dress up at a leisurely pace. sitting on my floor in the many whimsical layers of my outfit, i had the undeniable feeling, this is what i was meant to wear. i felt so happy, so myself flouncing around in fur-trimmed knee socks and demure empire-waisted skirts, clutching a soft new bear. the night before, i had searched the shops for a perfect accessory--preferably something cute, fluffy, and pink. the bear (yet to be named) was the ultimate realization of all these things. this was the approximate look i was going for:


marina and i resolved to do it up High School Style and get ready together (complete with makeovers, mousse, and some hair harrassment). allison saved me the cold hundred by offering to drive her suitcase on wheels so we wouldn't have to take the train. i knew the only thing i needed to cement my place in the foreigner hall of fame was some fake pink hair. eureka!

the final product was enough to cause even the few japan natives brave enough to sail the tall waters of drunk gaijin to comment on my succesful rendering of a japanese stereotype. ah, but it was all adulation on my part. here's fiona's shot: she captured my entire outfit, making me look like an enormous doll next to sam and fern. (check out "confused and confusing" in the links above for fiona's website)


marina dubbed it "superior (do they spell it superiour in canada? ;) ) clash trash"







this was actually the first time i had ever been to REAL karaoke, and i could see how it would be Really Really Fun with a smaller group of close friends--belting out your favorite songs with the aid of alcohol and microphones. in the birthplace of karaoke (japan, duh), you get a whole room all to yourself and you rock the night away with no one else watching. there's a phone to call for drinks, and at the fancier places, electronic consoles to search for and queue up songs. this place played the most Boring crap behind the words--like bad footage of unattractive people sitting in outdoor cafes in Britain (why?), but it made me laugh at its incongruity. here's one of the rooms at UpDo.


sadly, just as i finally had a chance to talk to one of the cute boys there, we were leaving.
sigh...
oh PS. did i mention mr. M is MARRIED!? as in: flirted with me one day and got married the next. of course he has neglected to tell me, but i heard it from some of the other teachers. be a doll and wear the "i'm married" sign for at least a week, for heaven's sake!

sowing seeds to build a bridge

last night i decided to sleep in as hard as i could, but i only made it to 8:45 am. i've lost the knack i used to have for late mornings. nearly everyone i know is out of town this weekend, so i rattled around my house with no clear idea about what to do for the day. if it were warmer, i'd open all the windows and just enjoy being home, but with the windows closed, i felt restless. i did sit outside in the sun for a few hours and finished a strange and disappointing book, but after that, i knew i had to go somewhere or i'd just feel frustrated and bored for the rest of the evening. should i hike alone, walk along the beach, or ride my bike somewhere? part of the problem is that i get exhausted from standing out so much. people (though they often pretend not to) do stare or double-take when they see me. on the weekends, i just don't want to deal with it. i'm not saying i always mind being conspicuous, but it's annoying that it's only because i'm different, not because i've chosen to wear some sassy outfit. it's harder to have a devil-may-care attitude in another culture with crochety old women staring you down at every turn.
i put my sunglasses on and rode a little self-consciously into the day. it really doesn't take much to make me smile, though, and i got my mood's salvation in the form of a gas station attendant. buying gas in japan is quite an affair--as soon as you drive in, you're greeted with enthusiastic shouts from all the attendants. you order what you'd like from the comfort of your car, hand them any trash you'd like to rid yourself of, and they fill you up, wash your windows, and then (the grand finale of courtesy) they direct you into traffic, sometimes stopping it in order to wave you in. so i was laboring by the station on my bike and ahead i saw an attendant ready to direct a car forward, but when he saw me, he motioned the car to stop so i could pass unhindered. this really is remarkable because his priority is his customer, and he could have just as easily made me wait. i gave him a thank-bow and pedaled on feeling lighter.

one thing i've learned about myself is that i like having a quest of sorts, a desination, so i set off sluggishly and irresolutely for a grocery store pretty far away. Shufu No Mise (literally, the housewife store) is the only one in town that carries this vanilla creme sponge cake roll i've been craving, so i rode vaguely toward it with my self-inflicted haircut blowing in the bracing wind. i kept thinking, "this is an awful long way to go for a little cake." but at least i was out getting some exercise, and since i had nowhere to be and nothing to do, i supposed i'd just ride until the headwind overcame my desire to be outside. surprisingly, i made it all the way to the store, albeit slowly and without much stamina. on the way, i passed the all the usual signs i can't read, and i thought about what a challenge it's been for me (whose main talent lies in the linguistic arena) to basically be illiterate and only able to communicate in overwhelmingly unspecific sentences.
imagine if the only english words you could read were: tree, mountain, river, small, big, month, day, minute, child, fire, water, raw, and meat. yep; it limits your comprehension a little. i pick out what i can, and every day i understand a fraction more, even surprising myself by knowing something i didn't know i knew. but restaurants can be difficult. this is how i read a menu: "hmm. two things with pork. cheese on something. something. something. meat something. corn with something. salad with eggs, sesame, and something that's fried." i usually pick out things with one ingredient i recognize, and hope the rest isn't made of cow intestines.
at Shufu No Mise, i ran into one of my students shopping with her mom, and she gave me the little surprised bow/konnichiwa greeting. i waved, smiled, and echoed her konnichiwa. as we passed, i heard her mom ask, "who was that?" "oh, my english teacher." (the mom chuckling) "and you greeted her with konnichiwa?" i could imagine me and my mom having the same conversation. i set out for the long trek home, paused to watch the ocean, and was happy to finally get out of the (by then) glacial air.

people to watch: 山川

i'd like to give you an impression of some of the interesting (er...good and bad) people who inhabit my daily life.
today the lucky contestant is a mr. yamakawa. quite compact in stature, yet possessing a look of harnessed intensity, i was a little intimidated by this fine sir when i first arrived. after, oh, five months or so, he began to relax around me (or maybe it was the reverse), and i learned that his sense of humor is untarnished.
just today, when i pointed out the pixelated roof of my american home via google earth, he pointed to himself and said michieviously, "stalker" and we all had a good laugh. then when we found his house in town, i pointed to myself and said, "stalker" and he chuckled and said we were "even."

✪ has a knack for: planning golfing excursions which never fails to summon copious amounts of rain
✪ likes: sitting by the kerosene heater and dozing while listening to billy joel on his mp3 player
✪ dislikes: golfing in the rain
✪ notable traits: one of the few japanese men i've encountered with an actual smell, and a good one--sorta comforting father-y/grandfather-y



i had the opportunity to witness the very first time mr. yamakawa had ever tried a hamburger. i thought it was worthy of a photo. aww.

overripe

the second wave has come. it's like everyone i know has decided to get together and bludgeon me with their joyful news. the remaining half of my friends are getting married this year, and the first half is having babies. this leaves me feeling like i'm the only person whose life has not really begun. no, i don't necessarily think life is defined by having a partner, but there are some key milestones that help define your adult life, and i seem to be skillful at missing them. i'm doing my best to really live and not wait around wallowing in self-pity because i'm always single, but at times it does gang up on me and i wonder--am i doing something wrong?
i'm twenty-eight, and i've never been in a "relationship." yes, i've had a number of close guy friends to whom i've been attracted, and a few ill-defined (and short-lived) dating experiences, but i have yet to experience liking someone who really likes me back. it bites.
please don't misunderstand: i'm overjoyed for those of you who have found your love! i won't dampen your celebration with my own sorrow, but this silent yearning gets louder every year, and today it's sticking in my throat.

drunk on a school night, or: the foolish prince finally speaks

i'll never quite understand what it is that tips the balance between being completely ignored by someone and then suddenly included in (at least the outer reaches of) their social circle. yesterday was such a day, momentous only because i had been appreciating the attractiveness of this certain fellow since i got here. i also realized i had no real hope of getting to know him. he's one of the cool twenty-something teachers, established in his social life, and with no real reason to learn english. except me.
a few days before, i was standing next to him at graduation, and though we didn't speak a word or exchange a look, i stole a few glances for fun. the office girls, giggling, told me that they had noticed (from across the auditorium, no less) that though he was taller than me, my legs were longer. this precipitated a discussion about whether i ever wanted to be a fashion model. ha.
i long ago accepted this as my permanent relationship to mr. cutie. there was just no reasonable way to make our paths cross. i was aware that, like many of the young teachers, he lived in a building mere steps down the road from mine. having no car, i walk by there several times each week and wish that i knew enough to engage them all in a neighborly community. but...the truth is they don't spend much time at home. i actually go to and from school at a reasonable hour, but as is typical in japan, they linger at their workplace for hours and are in the bigger cities on weekends.
however, circumstance (most likely in the form of miss suzuki) propelled us together. i was invited to join a hike with M5 or "meat five," the young teachers who often get together for meaty meals. they'd more accurately be called A(alcohol)5, because i think the food is just an excuse to drink. anyway, this same group also does some hiking to work off their high caloric intake. the leader, mr. cutie, seemed surprised that i was going...read "internally panicked," because he was going to have to pull out some of that rusty english and brandish it at me.
the hike was steep. i put those long legs to use and kept up with him quite well. the other, shorter teachers fell in step behind us. he was so friendly, and i was so surprised. i mean, this is someone who has literally said one thing to me, once (in seven months). i was expecting to just follow the group up the mountain and listen to them speak japanese. instead, mr. M (i'll call him) made a point to talk to me during the entire outing. he knew a lot more english than i expected. after he ascertained that i like beer, he made many broad invitations of joining the group for nights out, dinner parties, and more hikes, but i have enough experience to know that those things don't always pan out.
the hike was beautiful--rocky forest steps covered in filtered sunlight, and finally, a glittering view of the ocean on both sides of our vantage point. as we headed down, i was commissioned to teach mr. cutie english. finally i asked why he felt he needed to be in the "diet club" since he was already thin, to which he gave no response but said instead, "lauren is thin," and more faintly, "pretty." awww. did i hear that right?
i went home. i didn't realize they meant dinner together that night. miss suzuki texted me to meet mr. M outside his apartment and we'd pick up the rest of the group on the way.
so i'm standing in the cold outside his house. he comes around the corner and waves. he's still wearing a towel around his neck from the hike. i'm looking up at the clouds and shaking my head at how many times i've walked by this place with no idea i'd actually have a reason to stop. he shuffles some stuff from his car into his apartment and we slide into his Regular Sized Vehicle. it's a miracle! i can stretch my legs out entirely, and i relax knowing i won't feel carsick either. his fancy car is playing mary j. blige, and that makes me even happier.
during the drive, mr. M keeps referring to Miss Suzuki as Mr. Suzuki, and it makes me laugh every time. he just keeps talking, not realizing his mistake. he chatters to me and to himself. i ask if he went to the high school where we teach. "no, no! i'm from kuwana; i'm a shitty boy." he means "city boy." i guess i've been in japan long enough now, because this pronunciation doesn't even phase me.
at the korean house we drink beer and eat spicy food. he tells everyone that his mother used to call him bakatonosama or "foolish prince." i marvel at this new view of these teachers i've existed around for all this time. i actually feel young!
mainly it's nice to talk to them and feel like just a person speaking with another person, without the seemingly insurmountable barriers of language, culture, and persona at the office.
as the meal wound to a close, mr. M said "it's on me," and paid for my dinner!

high times at buddhist disneyland, or: nachi no tacos

a few weeks ago, megan and stan came down to make me a huge plate of nachos and see nachi waterfall...about 40 minutes away in the adjacent prefecture. it's the second tallest waterfall in japan. i hadn't made it to nachi yet because i didn't learn of it until winter...not a good time to stand around spraying water. i wanted to go with them, but i was hesitant because going anywhere from here usually requires driving on winding mountain roads that invariably make me carsick and ruin whatever experience i set out to have. i also had a pancake party date with the office girls later that evening, and i wanted to have time to get ready for that. but the day dawned sparkling and sunny, and i knew i'd regret not going out, so i agreed. the drive wasn't bad--we just had to drive to shingu (the road is almost dead straight) and then turn onto the windy part for a short time. we hopped out and walked up the road a bit to a giant staircase hewn out of rock...leading down to the base of the waterfall. this is an important place in the whole buddhist pilgrimage route, but i mainly ignore that stuff because it doesn't interest me. due to its importance, however, there were several fancy-pancy big temples nearby and lots of monks and monkettes selling prayer bags and other religious paraphernalia.
there was incense and fragrant wood burning...probably my favorite part about temples in japan. for about $2.50 we could hike up closer to the falls, which we did. at one point on the trail, they even had tiny ceramic dishes out of which you could drink the sacred waterfall water (for another $2.50), but i already had a bottle of volvic (voted best-tasting in a blind taste test), which cost less money and came all the way from france (that said in a wry voice). the waterfall was pretty, but i'm sure it's more magnificent when the rains have plumped it up a lot. i took a little camera video so i could capture the sound of the water...sorry it's sideways.

little did i know the entire day would be about water sounds. i was charmed by this crinkly stream on the way up to the big temples.

and lastly, a faucet dripping into a bucket, though mainly you just hear a kid jumping up the stairs behind me.

in the past, i've sorta had the attitude, "seen one temple, seen 'em all," but i was wrong. the nachi temples are accented in bright orange, and against the blue sky, stunning. it isn't uncommon to see young ladies "hiking" these rough-hewn, rocky trails in stiletto heels.


we climbed innumerable stairs, but the view was worth it.


when we got here, i reached the conclusion that sometimes japan looks just like a disney interpretation of itself. i expected to see snow white waving placidly from the wee orange bridge.


lovely chipped paint


these flower buds caught my attention and i photographed them a few times. when we came around the corner of the building, i (with my infantile kanji abilities) sounded out the first two kanji i've ever read adjacent to one another--mizuko. that is: water + child. this didn't make much sense to me until i realized i was standing in front of the temple where people go to honor their aborted babies. i could see a monk statue reaching out for a crawling baby (looked more like a monkey) and toys inside the door. it was tragic and creepy at once.


this is the main entrance to the big temple. the inside was surprisingly lavish and beautiful: fresh fruit, flowers, and strings of colorful origami cranes hung everywhere, and the glint of gold made the wooden interior shine. to the side were more jars of "backup cranes" which i really wanted to photograph, but i felt like i wasn't supposed to.


these pilgrims? shuffled across the courtyard looking mysterious and anonymous in their veils.


i got to climb inside an 800 year old camphor tree! now i know where all that fragrant wood they were burning came from. tell me this isn't like disneyland.


scariest depiction of a horse in the history of the world!


and finally a purchase i had been looking to make for some months: wooden geta of my very own.

unsalted butter is my punishment

perhaps to keep me humble, or possibly to inspire me to stay in shape (ha! a lot of good that did), God put me together with some second-hand parts, and i've always had various trouble with my wrists, ankles, knees, and (the killer) my back. today i was hunched over my japanese book, actually studying, and i straightened up to the familar feeling of something going terribly wrong in my neck. when this happens, it all goes straight to hell really fast: the muscles around the frought, misaligned vertebrae immediately tense up, pulling everything even more out of whack and giving me a really sensational headache. if you've never had back problems, you don't understand how much strength you can lose in your extremities and how blind with pain you can be in a matter of seconds. i tried in vain to get it all right again--stretching, walking, turning. no luck.
in retrospect, it may have had something to do with the wierd poisition i was sleeping in last night. i woke from a dream in which i stepped outside after dark and saw the dim outline of a man standing nearby in the shadows, still, just watching me. what freaked me out was that even though i was looking straight in his direction, he just stayed, waiting to see what i would do. i backed inside again. so i woke up in the darkness with a slightly uneasy feeling and stayed frozen to my bed until my senses assured me that no one was going to bludgeon me if i moved.
anyway, at school i was doing the stiff-as-a-board walk...always attractive...you know, turning my head by pivoting my whole body, wincing anytime i moved too far in the wrong direction, and the like. since i had no more classes after two, they let me go home so i could finally lie down. which i did. i fell asleep to music on my ipod, something i can always do when i'm napping and never do at night. i slept to the tune of three ibuprofen and four hours, and now i'm doing what any sensible person would do--drinking a beer and blogging about it.
the good news is after i fell back asleep, i had my first-ever dream in which i spoke japanese. i only said "excuse me" and "sorry," but those are things i say a whole lot in real life, and i'm excited that they've permeated my brain enough to come up in my dreams.
in totally unrelated news, the dollar is getting stronger against the yen, and it's killing me. i want to send money home, but i essentially lose 17 percent of anything i convert. who could have predicted i'd be following currency trends...waiting for the moment The Yen lands a few surprise punches and The Dollar stumbles backwards a little.

i'll leave off with a recent quote from kara [after deciding to buy a positively minute cup of häagen-dazs ice cream (1/2 cup for over three dollars!)], "buying food in Japan is like living in an airport."

oden of thieves

this is oden. as you can see, it's made up of several mysterious, soggy-looking white and brown things. i admit i wasn't especially anxious to try it. i mean, wouldn't carrots add some much-needed color variety and carroty flair? this is what you make so no one wants to steal your lunch. after hearing some other non-native people discussing their dislike of this homely dish, i had no plans of adding it to my been-there-eaten-that list. that is...until i was personally invited to try a homemade batch by one of the teachers i don't know very well. he's a nice older guy, and since he's shared his sweets with me (a perfect stranger) numerous times in the past, i felt i at least owed it to him to give it a shot. i confided my fear of disliking it to naoko on the way over. she promised to discreetly eat my portion if i couldn't stomach it! it would save me from hurting mr. salt-n-pepper owl's feelings. as i peered uneasily into the enormous pot of bubbling soup, i spotted potatoes. now i love potatoes in any manifestation. in fact, one of the first complete sentences i learned in japanese was to express exactly that. when i saw the potatoes, i knew i would be able to make my peace with oden. it was great! i didn't particularly care for some of the fishy fish-cake things, but the potatoes, meat, and daikon were marvelous.

how to celebrate your birthday in a foreign land, or: if it doesn't kill you...

february first i turned twenty-eight. i know my family and old friends worried that i might feel depressed and uncelebrated on my special day (thanks for all the love!), but since i've had six months to get to know people, i was almost celebrated to the point of exhaustion.
the day before my birthday, i was treated to the song "happy baasday dear roren" ("next day" they said, to indicate they knew it was early) by two of my favorite freshman boys. they're both adorably lispy, and they even attempted harmony after conferring briefly about who should sing the high and low parts. i still have no idea how they found out when my birthday even was. after school, the e.s.s. club had a surprise party for me with lots of japanese snacks and sweets. we played games and sang a karaoke version of "top of the world" by the carpenters...i'm not really sure why, except it might risk not being an actual party in japan without karoke. natsumi (second from the left) even made little cakes for us to share.










that night, i took the birthday box my mom had sent me and opened it with my eyes closed. i slipped my hand under the flap and felt around. hey, i wanted a little bit of anticipation. i couldn't figure out what anything was, so i closed it up and went to bed.

on my birthday, i woke up early and sat down to actually look inside the birthday box: it was a portable party! my mom had included party favors and hats, candles, no bake cheesecakes, a gift, and conversation hearts. i knew i'd be going up to tsu to celebrate with some of my good friends there, so i put it aside. i dressed all in red and went to school. right away i was given a blueberry cake that one of the women teachers made. of course, it was wrapped cutely in clear, printed cellophane. she even told me she had grown and picked the blueberries herself.


that evening, i had dinner at one of my favorite italian restaurants with all the south girls, save allison (who was in australia--jerk! :). it was a marvelous meal, see for yourself. when we had finished eating, i cut up the blueberry cake i received earlier and handed pieces to everyone. we all took a bite--it was revolting! that poor teacher had done so much work and perhaps forgot the sugar. it tasted like blueberry cardboard! we washed the flavor out our mouths with some chocolates a student made that were much better. when the girls quietly sang happy birthday to me in the restaurant, a hip-looking japanese guy with red glasses turned around to sing and clap along! everyone in the world, it seems, can appreciate birthdays.

















































that's cotton candy topping the custard cake! creative.


that weekend i went up north to join the early Valentine's party for JETs. i was treated to several birthday drinks from friends, and i danced, as i'm apt to do, until my entire body was aching. i had made a skirt for the event on emily's sewing machine. it had a gold, sparkly underlayer ("whore-y" according to kara) covered by a sheer, silky black (elegant). altogether, it looked like a "punk ballerina" said melissa. who could ask for more!?






















me and chito, molly's boyfriend


me, molly, emily



THERE'S MORE! If you thought it couldn't get anymore fun, you don't know sam, fiona, sean and marina. the next night we dined at a french restaurant, party hats and all.
the food was equally marvelous, but i didn't document it as neurotically.






finally, the mini cheesecakes and twisty candles.
the end. i'm tired.

nostalgic supersniffer

if you know me well at all, you know i'm a sniffer. i find myself sniffing soap, grapefruit, shirts, people, books, calculators, tape, rocks, earth...it's one of the ways i understand and experience the world around me...which is why i like my immediate environment clean, if not from clutter, at least from grime. that way i can touch and sniff any surface without fear of unexpected yuckiness. whenever i move into a new place, i have to clean every surface myself before i feel totally comfortable inhabiting it. i'll rattle around in the center of rooms without coming into full contact with cabinets or barefooting the floors until i've ascertained their purity. after i scour the crevices for someone else's dirt, i accept those dark corners as my own.
partially due to fear of treading on some unsuspecting cockroach or poisonous centipede, i spent the first month in my japanese house with my toes curled away from any parts of the floor i couldn't see. bit by bit, my toes got more comfortable as i claimed more and more of the house with bucket and scrub brush. now i feel like i know what's happening in all its recesses. i've finally located and rid myself of all the molding trash and heaps of junk my predecessor left for me. (which was no small task, considering the complicated rules that govern the sorting and throwing away of rubbish.)
i invest a lot of confidence in my sense of smell. if i give some past-date yoghurt or meat a serious once-over whiff, and i don't sense anything malodorous, i will risk eating it. if there's the slightest questionable scent--straight to the trash.
what i started out to say in the first place, though, is that being a sniffer has its own little delights. as they say, smell is the sense most connected to memory, and having a particularly good sense of smell brings so many memories. i love, for instance, lighting matches. first, there's the satisfying sandpapery scrape of the match head against the striking surface. and then that rush of air/firework takeoff sound as the fire gasps and explodes to life. smell one: sharp, sulfury gunpowder. the flame mellows out and begins consumption of little stick. smell two: heat and burning wood and sap. then it gets close to your fingertips and you blow out that little flame before it burns them. smell three: sweet wood smoke. altogether it has the smell of a campfire: a tiny little handheld campfire. so each time i light a match, i'm reminded of all the times i've made fires outdoors in fresh air with my mom or friends; that whole-body-in-sun caught-in-time relaxed feeling that you get when you marinate in the heat of a fire; the dark and chill gathered around, watching you laugh and burn marshmallows.
the world is waking up again, so my nose has been treated to a lot of new smells in the past week. we've had a good rain, and it often smells like the water-permeated, green, mossy washington state, where i lived for five years. the sun shines on yellowed, dried grass that cracks the pavement and smells like fields in colorado, where i was born. the early early wild narcissus that smells undeniably like the garden's tender spring.
at last.