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.

different shades of the same thing

you don't even know how many blog posts i've cleverly titled but don't have time to write about yet. there's much more to come. oh so much more.
here's a typical day for ローレン (that's me):
my mobile phone/camera/alarm clock extroardinaire (from now on referred to as The Device) goes off with sound, lights, and vibration at 6:30am. usually it's resting against the headboard, so i get the added heart attack of something clattering violently by my ear and shaking the entire bedframe. i allow myself one and only one push to the snooze button, then i drag my sorry carcass out of the most comfortable bed i've had the pleasure of sleeping in, ever. i think that to myself every single morning. my bedroom is 6 tatami mats big (9 x 13 feet) and pretty sparsely furnished (only a bed, a nightstand, and a small air filter that's about the size and shape of a flat computer screen).


i open the sliding room dividers (ふすま) and step into the bitter cold living room. ok, it isn't so bitter anymore, but that's only a very recent development. my living room is also 6 tatami mats in size and more cluttered. this houses the Massive hardwood dressing closet/cabinet/storage chasm that could swallow someone's oversized yarn collection *ahem*, or possibly a dead body. this is probably the most enviable feature of my house.
usually, i have my creamy puff blanket draped over my shoulders and i trudge to the kitchen where the tea water machine is always on and always hot. i make myself a big cup of black tea with sugar and soy milk and then slide my legs under the heated living room table (こたつ) which i discussed back in September.


i write for 40 minutes and then hustle to pack a lunch, eat a bowl of oatmeal with raisins, brown sugar, and walnuts, straighten the unruly bedhead with my new hyper-power straightening iron (thanks mom!) that hisses so much it sounds like i'm cooking steaks, and dress before velcro-ing my shoes on and clomping down the steep hill to school. if i don't forget before i head out, i consult the complicated schedule for what variety of trash will be picked up that day and hoist my bags up the hill to the trash bin.

the high road to the bin:

the bin itself:

the scenic route to school:

when i enter the school yard, i bow and say good morning to any students i see, change into my school slippers at the rusted outdoor shoe locker, and usually make it inside just as the bells are ringing to signal the start of the morning meeting. as i go in, i smell the deliriously wonderful odor of fresh coffee, bow to the women sweeping the stairs, and glance briefly into the office to see if i can catch the eye of any of my friends. then i unload my computer, lunch, and other stuff into my desk and start ignoring the meeting. later i teach class, blah blah blah.
at exactly 4:15 i strike out for home, check my mail, step out of my shoes in the entryway (slide on my house slippers) and then decide what to do for the rest of the evening.

the front of my house:

the entryway:

a few bits more.
Come One, Come All; dye your hair Brown, Brown, or Brown! Blonde? Impossible! Red? Improbable! at least the boxes are cool for those guys who want a little "beauteen."


finally, i'll part with a shot that may comment on the "all part of the same group" mentality of japan, or it could be a coincidence. i call it: Movement In White. or..."i like white CARS and i can not LIE!"

hi super nintendo chalmers...i'm learnding!

today marks the day i finally put my international drivers permit to use and ventured out in a mini car on the left side of the road. hopefully all that practice hugging the left on my bike will make careening around in a car a little easier. it wasn't as weird as i expected: it's like driving while looking in a mirror, and, like, how weird is that? uhhh. yeah...it was a little weird. however, my passengers gave the ride positive reviews, so maybe it won't be so intimidating from here on out. i want to drive next year! as charming and romantic as it's been to bike to the grocery store every other day through the winter months, i long for the day when i can buy anything without worrying about how i'm going to get it home. the part that feels the strangest is not driving on the left (i toyed around with that some at home), but sitting on the right! and, thank God, the foot pedals are in the same order, but the blinker and windshield wipers are opposite. i can forsee some occassions where i'll be wiping vigorously when i go to turn.
seriously, though. getting one's japanese drivers license is a big frickin deal. you think you have to jump through hoops in the u.s.? here you essentially register (wait one month), take a written test (wait one month), take the driving test (make one mistake and you must wait another month to retake it), and if fate smiles upon you, in three short months you may have earned your license. did i mention: the closest place where i can do all of these things is three hours away? however, once i've achieved this, i think it will be a milestone in my life. a card-carrying driver in another country. how coolish is that!?

my blood, mine enemy, or: we're not out of the woods yet, not by a longshot

today i thought i might have TSS, a serious disease of which most women are at least vaguely aware. it's a potentially fatal bacterial infection that you can get from those handy products that make mensturation less of a pain, at least figuratively. in lieu of specifics, we'll just say there were less-than-optimal circumstances surrounding the whole shebang. so i looked up the symptoms (to be safe).....and then i sat around and waited to get them, or recognize them. so i thought i was in the clear, phew, when i was gripped by some serious dizziness while seated. i got freaked. then my female supervisor walked up and said sweetly, "oh! you look really pale." well now, that's just not right. i sat her down right then and told her my fears. she asked if i wanted to go to the hospital; that's what all medical clinics of any kind are called in japan. we hit the road headed for an aged, male ob/gyn. yippee.
in the waiting room, i sat with my very kind supervisor and she bravely interviewed me about all the most personal details of my Life as a Menstruator, since i could not decode the medical questionnaire on my own. having little experience translating medical terminology, she had to go straight for the easiest way of communicating these questions, thus, i was asked the following:
how many times per day do you go to the bathroom for not pee-pee?
have you had sex with not a man? (does this mean: have i had sex with a woman? or have i had sex with only boys? or have i never had sex?)
and finally,
has anyone in your family ever experienced the following: 肝臓病、腎臓病、心臓病、貧血症、糖尿病、高血圧?
we went in to speak to the doctor, and i guess i shouldn't have been worried about the possible pelvic exam, because he barely looked at me. he didn't take my temperature; he didn't check my vitals; he didn't even touch me at all. since my only symptom was one short bout of dizziness, waiting a little bit seemed smart to him. humph. well that's not how to discover a disease early! but i guess i'd rather go someplace else anyway.
when we headed out, i braced myself for the bill. what do they charge you in this country to do nothing but tell you to get lost? i guess i got what i paid for, because the total visit cost $6.68--that's right, six dollars. so if i die, it's on that guy's head, but my survivors won't owe the world a fortune for my health care.

planes, trains, and automobiles: the journey home

"Far!
We've been traveling far
Without a home
But not without a star."
-Neil Diamond (don't laugh...i grew up on that tape)

the first glimpse of my expansive country was as i descended into the san francisco morning after an oddly anxious flight across the pacific. the japanese united agent was kind enough to get me window seats on all four flights home, so i watched the blue night sky unravelling from above for endless hours. i knew i'd be arriving at sunrise, and since i was coming from the east, i couldn't understand why we weren't flying with the sun. it was dark ocean the whole way...
another remarkable kindness from the united agent: (though i had checked the website to see what things weren't allowed in luggage, i missed where it said no lighters of any kind) when they asked me if i had a lighter, i stupidly said yes, but only in my checked bag. she inhaled apologetically; they're not allowed at all!
but it's a gift! it doesn't have any fuel!
she called over her supervisor. i pulled out offending lighter. could i prove it had no fuel? sure...i demonstrated trying to light it with no success. he was satisfied. and....in a move very uncharacteristic of the japanese "we follow the rule book at all costs" attitude i've experienced until now, he actually leaned over the counter and said, "i don't think security will recognize this as a lighter [because of its unique shape]. if they do call your name because there's a problem with your luggage, i'll meet you at the security gate and walk the item through with you." wow. thank you mr. united man.
during the flight, i kept wondering if the guy next to me was going to stab me or something because he seemed very agitated, and everyone knows how dangerous rage can be at 30,000 feet. perhaps it was my own feelings of awkwardness at seeing so many other english-speakers that was really the problem (and a little travel-day paranoia). i had actually been hoping to sit next to some japanese businessman. after seven hours or so (well, i had plenty of time to let him chill out), i got him chatting about his home and job, so i felt more comfortable. through my sleepy haze, i witnessed a brilliant view of the golden gate bridge at sunrise and (even more exciting) a plane landing parallel and at the same moment as ours. the pilot actually said, "this is about as close as we're going to get to that other plane." you mean we're not going to try and touch wingtips!? aww, man! why didn't we get Iceman or Maverick as our pilot? finally we landed, but i was already lost in my exhaustion. after stumbling through customs where the agent only briefly double-checked my pink-coiffed passport ("oh is that your hair? i thought it was a reflection)," i wandered into a food court. what meal should i try on my empty stomach? or more specifically, what time of day did my stomach think it was? i went straight for the miso soup and burned my tongue. welcome home. i don't think they keep miso soup boiling in japan. i would have tried some eggs and hashed browns, but i couldn't really believe i wasn't still in japan, and i didn't want to chance having an allergic reaction to the eggs.
i kept seeing people i thought i recognized, but get a grip lauren, you don't know everyone in america, and you don't know more than three people in san francisco.
after twenty-four brutal hours of travel (a beast of four legs), i finally got close to home. as i anticipated, i ran into several people i knew in the denver airport who were going to durango, so i started catching up right away (one was a girl i babysat for several years starting when she was about four--who is now studying fashion in san francisco!--where does the time go?).
we touched down in durango in darkness. i buttoned my coat up tighly while waiting to deplane and walked through the wild, cold wind to the airport door. i was feeling a touch poetic...the colorado night was affecting me...until i realized i had buttoned my coat askew and probably looked like a crazy person...or one of those "artist types." wink