I have recently been elected co-editor of my prefecture's ALT magazine (just the claps), which is more fun than it sounds. Maybe it's time to that comic featuring drafting symbols as characters off the ground.
Last weekend, I learned how to make soba in the recesses of Mito's forest. Naoko organized, and Julie, Daryl, Dale and I happily interfered. We were split up once we arrived, so every soba group could have a foreigner.
My group was spirited, but unskilled. Our soba looked kinda like bloated worm corpses on the sidewalk. Still--tasty!
We also had a grueling introduction to the yosakoi, a traditional festival dance where you hop around with clacking wooden paddles called naruko. This literally translates to "becoming a child," but after dance practice I felt more like an obaasan.
Nao-chan and Julie were still lively as shogakkosei, bless 'em.
An uplifting cap to a weekend involving badly DJed reggae remixes, even worse freestyling, and an elusive expressway.
After a lengthy hiatus, I am ready to begin again.
I know now not to fear the blog. It is not an obligation. It does not even have to be interesting, relevant, or meaningful. I can insert pictures randomly,
or use them to provide detail or elucidation. I can use words like "elucidation". I can bite my thumb at you, and you'd never be the wiser. I can write personal notes.
Ladybug, the newest addition to the quoteboard: "Sometimes you have turn the bottle aggressively upside down to get it to come out." (Julie, on wine, 3.6.04)
I can stop writing in the midd
Just trying out some new avatars. Will seriously post soon. Seriously.
I think my nodes are swollen. I like how the same language is used for transportation planning and bodily circulation. "There seems to be congestion along the main route, so we recommend a bypass." Does this mean S-L-O-W drivers are the atherosclerosis of our highways? Ooh, somehow I feel like a non-sexual Carrie Bradshaw.
My right ear is also completely oblivious to external noise right now, though my eardrum is pounding out a bass beat--I think it's "We Will Rock You". My visit to the doctor will be as follows:
Me: Good afternoon, sir. I believe a semi has jack-knifed in my ear canal, causing a painful case of Queen. Do you have any--
Doctor: (Thrusts a mixed bag of colorful powders into my arms, mumbles in Japanese, and disappears behind the curtain to attend to the next patient, who has also waited 3 hours)
I'm dying of anticipation. It's gonna be awesome.
For those who'd like to know what central Japanese winter is like, refer to Exhibit A.
Exhibit A: Admittedly taken in October, but we're going for feeling here
Made up a song on the way home from school today. It's called "Don't Fall Into the Rice Field". The lyrics are pretty much the title, sung repeatedly in a hushed, tenuous voice. Then there's an abrupt rise in volume and urgency as you start the chorus: "I can't see!" (x4). Of course there's an obligatory surprise hook near the end, accompanied by the line "Pool in my shoe". I think it has a certain mystique.
I did discover that if your shoes should fill halfway with rain while riding your bike [NOTE: They won't completely fill, as the pedalling action continuously pushes water out through the breathable mesh], the water will reach a lukewarm equilibrium that is not wholly unpleasant. Not that I'd fill my shoes with water on purpose, but really, there are more stupider things you could do.
The weather today actually forced me to download a copy of G n R's "November Rain". That's just how bad it is.
Oct. 11, 2003--Naoko and her mother arrived in my driveway at 6:30 am, much to my groggy disgust. But we had promises to keep (and the woods so lovely, dark, and deep--I just bought a sweatshirt with a questionably legal bastardization of this Robert Frost quote. The hood also claims it provides vitamins for the mind). One medium train ride later, Naoko and I arrived in Tokyo, where we were whisked away on the Shinkansen (less than romantic when packed to capacity--I actually paid over $60 to sit on a beverage shelf for an hour) to the lovely Gunma mountain town of Karuizawa, best known for its extensive outlet mall. And shop we did. For over 6 hours. The toting around of heavy bags actually caused a painful wrist strain that haunts me to this day. All so I could provide my friends with the latest overly-cute trifles. If you send me some Macaroni & Cheese, I'll know you were worth it.
The true purpose of our trip was to provide company for our friend Paul. He lives in the scenic village of Tsumagoi, famous for cabbages and...no, that's all. Just cabbages. Tsumagoi is the epitome of inaka, a term similar to "the boondocks". The town's only grocery store closes at 7 pm. Should you need groceries after that time, you would need to drive 45 minutes to the next biggest town. Paul knows everyone in town. And they definitely know him. And they know exactly how many female visitors he had that weekend (6). I'm sure his kocho-sensei (principal) gave him many hearty back pats and knowing chuckles the following Tuesday.
From right: Maya, Kyoko, Pasha, Mie, and myself, standing on Paul's stoop.
However, if you have to live in inaka, Gunma-ken is a nice place for it. To look up and find yourself surrounded by steep mountains blanketed in autumn colors, the fiery sunset kindling the treetops...makes you into a mediocre poet. But honestly, there's no way to capture the moment, save by memory. You might be so taken with the beauty, that you think it's a good idea to drive up the winding mountain road to the peak. You would be wrong. Especially when your homicidal driver takes hairpin curves at break-neck speeds that make the infamous Irohazaka seem like a stretching highway on the Nebraska plains. I'm sure the crystal mountain lake nestled between misty peaks would've been quite extraordinary if I could've thought of anything except leaning over and vomiting into its majesty.
Another highlight of the trip was our visit to 3 different onsen (hot springs)...(to be continued...)
I really want to post, I do, as I have taken trips the past 3 weekends, each providing worthy stories...and yet, I keep getting distracted by "London Hearts", a sketchy reality TV show on par with "Temptation Island". This is the Express Love Train episode...which nicely segues into the evening news, with the intro soundtrack provided by U2. The top opener story tonight? Baseball, of course. Specifically the recent wins of beloved Hanshin Tigers...and the death of one of the players' daughters? Ooh, even hardened Japanese criminals have to remove their slippers before entering their prison cells. And now watch the gaikokujin run obstacle courses, just like little monkeys! Foreigners: better than pets.
Lest I never catch up with recording the now-time happenings, the rest of August, September, and parts of October will be stricken from the record. Or you can view photos from that hazy time period here, and make up your own captions. Here's a teaser:
The Fukushima Aquarium, built right on the ocean. Breathtaking.
So one day, all of the (adventurous) teachers piled into a bus and went to Fukushima, famous for onsen (hot springs, but also used loosely for expensive bath houses). I knew I was in for a long day when at 7:30 am, I was handed a beer. It seems I was sitting in the "party section" of the bus, where the drinking starts early, and stops when you pass out. In retrospect, I should've known: everyone knows the back of the bus is where the party is at. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty good by 11 am. I even tried shredded squid snack--let me tell you, some inhibitions should never be lost.
