Being a giant colourful blonde in Tokushima gives me the certifiable status of Bonafied Curiosity. Most of the time this works to my advantage; unlike my coworker Maz, I appreciate random starngers and teenagers walking up to practice their English on me. You never know; I might get an opportunity to learn some new Japanese words as well! However, last night my "otherness" worked to my distinct disadvantage.

A little back-ground: about a week ago Denise (another Nova-Sensei from Nova Scotia) and I decided to get together for sushi. There's a little sushi place across the street form my apartment (and I do mean directly across the street... it's about 6 paces from my front door) and so we met up and went in. The inside was miniscule; room enough for a long sushi bar and about 15 stools along it. Every person inside spoke not a word of English, so Denise and I relied on each other's spotty knowledge, "hai, nigiri onegaishimasu, oiishi..." (loosely translated: yes, sushi please, delicious!). We pointed and rubbed our tummies and consulted Denise's travel-guide, which was pretty useless. There was an old guy on each side of us; both kept up a running dialogue, asking us questions and speculating on our origins in quick Japanese; they repeatedly said Denise must be from Spain while she ascertained over and over that she was from Canada. Eventually I just started speaking completely in English, speculating on what they were saying. "Oh, really? So you're saying that if I want a really good deal, I'm going to have to dance for my dinner? Well, I'm afraid that I just can't do that, it's against my morals... no, I don't really think you should look into getting a hairpiece, your bald head is quite alluring, actually." Denise was choking on her miso soup. We had a delicious meal; tiny baby clams were loaded into the soup ("Oh! Kawaii!" I exclaimed when I was shown the pinky-fingernail-sized clams before they were put in my soup. "I-e... kawaii-nai! Oiishi desu!" The cook replied-- "No! Not Cute! Tasty!"). During the course of the meal Denise overheard the word fugu, and quickly put down her chopsticks. "Fugu? We're eating fugu?!" I had no idea what the problem was; the blubbery white stuff was quite tasty... turns out fugu is that poisonous puffer fish that can kill you if it's not prepared properly. I really had no intention of seeking it out while I was in Japan, but now that I've had it, I can tell you that it's not bad stuff. I'm still kicking, after all!

Anyway-- to the point. I went back there on my own after work last night, seeing as it's close to home, inexpensive, and the cook had treated us well despite our ineffective Japanese language skills. There was only one other patron inside, and he- like the men before him- spoke no English at all. This didn't stop him from trying to communicate, and so I in turn made an effort to understand and reply. He asked questions as the friendly cook assured me that this man was his tomodachi (friend) and that he was a daijobu (OK) guy. I struggled to explain where I worked, and that I was from Canada, and that yes, I like Japan. As my meal was prepared and served, the man continued to consume his sake and smoke his Marlboros and ask me questions. He started to get wobbly as I was about half-way finished, saving my tuna and eel for last, as usual. My Japanese sucks, but I can understand a few words, and I can definitely understand body language. The man said something about skebe... I think he was asking whether I thought Japanese men were skebe (perverts). I backed off a bit, giggled nervously, and tried to say no, I didn't think so, I didn't really know, hadn't had any negative experiences, when he reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair and sniffed it appreciatively. Now, this is where the Japanese-English phrase books are completely ineffectual; I have 35 ways to ask how to catch the train to Beppu, but no way to say "That was completely inappropriate, please don't sniff my hair!" I said "dame", crossed my wrists in the 'no' gesture and backed off even more. The cook came over, concerned, warning his friend-- then the guy started talking about my breasts, asking if they were big, making grabbing motions in the air. The cook intervened, telling his friend to knock it off, I suppose. I did what I could, hoping my tone of voice would make up for my lack of language... "HEY! Dude, that is so rude, I was just starting to get along with you and then you had to get all rude and grabby and shit! Don't be talking about my oki opai, they're none of your business!!" Anyway, I hastily finished my eel and gathered myself up; the cook repeatedly asked if I was daijobu, and he gave me one hell of a good deal on the meal; an apology-price, I assume. Anyway, if I go back, it won't be on my own, and I'd like to go armed with some more useful Japanese phraseology! It's Big Brother's and Bubu's for me until I get a better hang of the language... good thing I love Okanamayaki!

Sumiko's visit was quick and fun. (Ume's plane was cancelled, so she'll be coming this coming weekend instead.) I took Sumiko to Big Brother's as soon as she was off the bus, where she repeatedly exclaimed "sugoi, ne!" (wow, it's great, eh?) as forienger after foriegner walked through the front door. I introduced her to my friend Brian, whose boyfriend had recently moved back to China. She later told me in an awed voice that Brian was "first time I meet gay person!" The day consisted of much shopping and eating and more shopping; she spoiled me rotten, buying my just about anything I looked at; earrings, a bunch of roses, a fancy pudding... it was a little overwhelming, to be honest. I had to be very sneaky to manage to pay for our dinner without her noticing, and she was quite angry with me when she found out! We walked about the Shin-Machi, stopping to listen to a teen-aged girl and her guitar-playing boyfriend perform a song at the peak of one of the walking bridges, and to watch the hippu-hoppu boys break-dance in the deserted shopping arcade. I took her to Ingrid's in the evening for karaoke... it was just me, Ingrid and Sumiko for a good hour, and I performed like a monkey, singing one off-key song after another while Sumiko and Ingrid discussed travel and life and love in hushed Japanese. Thankfully Ingrid sang a song to break the monotony of my uncertain voice; she belted out a Japanese woman's 'survivor' type song, and was met by much cheering and clapping from me and Sumiko. Sumiko left early, as she had to catch her plane early the next morning.

There's so much more that I want to say! But I have to get home and tricked-out in my business wear and start the long bike-ride out to Kitajima for my night-shift. I'm still loving the job and my students, and the wonderful richness they bring to my days. Last week I was role-playing with a student, and he had to imagine he was my boss, giving me advice for dressing better for work. He said, "I think your clothing is a little... hmm... trashy. Yes... maybe it's... shady." This guy cracks me up! I found out that the word he was looking for was 'shabby' and then I had to explain to him what 'trashy' meant... I made the mistake of saying that it meant 'too sexy' and so he proceeded to ask, "So, if I see a beautiful woman in the bar, I can say to her, you are very trashy?"

Explain your way outta that one!

I figured out why my shampoo from home isn't giving me the same thrill of fresh feeling (I'm starting to speak Engrish myself)... it smells exactly like my Japanese toilet bowl cleaner.

The last little while I've been furiously occupied with work and adventuring and preparing for this coming weekend. On friday, my adoptive Japanese mother Sumiko (she has started fondly calling me "En-chan") is flying in from Tsukuba for a one-day visit... friday being my only day off this week, it works out well. However, my best Japanese buddy Ume is arriving the very next day for a saturday-sunday visit. Thus I've been scrubbing and laundering and borrowing a bicycle and bedding from Jon... I think it will go well. Time flies when you have something to look forward to!

I had my first upset at work yesterday, schedule-wise... thinking that I didn't start until 5pm, I lounged around during the morning and had just finished my breakfast at 1:10pm when I got a frantic phone call: Didn't I know I started work at 1:20 today? Many *#$%'s ensued as I rushed about throwing on yesterday's work clothes and a thin swipe of makeup, then dashed out the door to face a strong headwind as I wheezed across the bridge. Turn's out that the manager failed to inform me (or ask me, as she should have done) that I was to work early on wednesday... I should have signed some paperwork indicating that I agreed to the schedule change, and no such paperwork exists. At least I have the satisfaction of knowing that the mix-up wasn't due to my being irresponsible. On a bright note, I have my first paycheck coming up in less than a week; I'm pretty thrilled, as my savings from Opus are starting to run a little dry. It will be my biggest paycheck ever! It's almost enough to make me feel like a grown-up. Almost.

Japan continues to provide a host of fascinating adventures that delight and intruige me. Last week on my day off, I decided to try and find the beach. It was a cool bright day, and I followed the directions I got at Big Brother's-- go over the big bridge, turn right. As it turned out, I went a little too far over the bridge before I turned right and spent close to two hours winding my way through alleys of bamboo and wide stretches of shimmering vegetable fields, over countless small, medium and large bridges. Eventually I came across a map directing me to the 'Tokushima-Naruto Cycle Path'... Naruto being in the direction of the sea, I decided to follow it as best I could. I finally spotted what looked beach-ish off in the distance and picked up speed, whipping alongside a blue fence that seemed to be all that was keeping me away from the shore until suddenly-- a break! I popped through the fence and found myself at a sea-side soccer field, young boys absorbed in their game. It was a big park, fabulous and shabby and beautiful and mostly deserted. The sand was fine and grey and littlered with more shells in more varieties than I have ever seen in my life; very soon my pockets were bulging with my gritty treasures. Because I had taken so long to find it, I arrived just in time for a walk up and down and to see the beautiful pastel sunset-- pink, yellow, peach, lavender. It was getting dark; time for the hour-long ride back to Tokushima.

Hungry and tired after the giant adventure, I headed straight for the bigger of the two grocery stores I frequent. I stocked up on prawn crackers, vegtables, beef (not so expensive!) and noodles and left the store wearily contemplating whether I wanted to cook or have the prawn crackers and a beer and call it dinner. As I started to cycle away I noticed a bright little cafe-type place called Bubu's. On the inside, a man was working in plain view at the grill, piling noodles and meat and eggs and cabbage into these enormous patties... I stopped dead. Parked the bike, walked right up to him, almost too tired and hungry for pleasantries. "Hi-- I'm sorry, sumimasen, I don't speak Japanese. I'm hungry. I don't know what that is, but it looks good, and I want to eat it." This little speech was accompanied by much miming-- stomach rubbing and shoulder-shrugging. Bubu looks up, smiles, and says in perfect English, "It's Okanamayaki. Please sit down, I will show you how I make it." From that moment on, the evening got better and better-- the college students that frequent the place (many of them Bubu's 'honorary children') came to meet the blonde girl and practice their English. Bubu made me the best Okanamayaki that I have had in Japan so far, and his wife gave me a free ice-cream cone. All the while, Bubu talked and translated and teased, calling me "Big Foot"-- "Oh, I have seen your picture! You live in the forest!" (When we stood side-by-side I was about an inch taller, and of course my feet were a fraction bigger than his) We exchanged cards and he and his wife invited me to come for dinner sometime. How cool is that?

A rolling stone gathers no moss... so I am delightfully moss-free! It's been a busy couple of weeks here and I am now enjoying my one day off-- I'll be working three 6-day weeks this month, so I have to make the most of my free time. I can't complain because I agreed to the overtime, however, I wish I had known at the time how overtime works here! I get paid overtime only on the days I have added to my schedule, so if I were to work 28 days in a row, I would get paid only for the 8 additional days I added to my schedule. The first day of overtime is plus 25% and the second day of overtime is plus 35%. The next five days are regular pay, and then the next day of overtime is plus 25%... and so on. Does that make sense? There's a reason I never studied ecomnomics!

Speaking of economics, a Japanese fellow was chatting me up (unsuccessfully) in Big Brothers this morning. He told me repeatedly that his major in University was economics. I told him repeatedly that I don't really understand economics. Then he told me, with a twinkle in his one good eye, that he is a single man. He divorced his wife. He has two children, one girl, age 15, one boy age 10. He does not work. "Do you work here, English teacher maybe?" Me: "Yes, I work for Nova, in Kitajima. I ride my bike every day over that big bridge, so it's good exersize!" Him: "Oh, I have not car. I ride bicycle also. But, my body not so beautiful, so I think Kitajima is too far. Do you know president of California? Like his movie-- where is big stomach-- baby, like woman. Like is my body!" Of course I laughed. I don't even remember the name of that Arnold Schwartzenegger film, and I don't think I wanted to... Like I said in my last entry, communicating is the most difficult and the most fun part of my day-to-day life here. A couple of days ago, I was talking to one of my students about pets. I asked her if she had a dog or cat-- she responded, "Yes! I have dog... but he is... not so." Hmmm... not so what, I wondered? "Is he dead? Or sick?" I asked. "No! Not dead... he is... little... pyu-pyu-pyu!" While making the 'pyu-pyu' sound she flapped her arms like she was doing the chicken dance. Needless to say, I was baffled. Turns out that her dog is very old-- what this has to do with the flying pyu-pyu, I haven't a clue.

I went to an Onsen on Monday with Norm and Waka in their great big Mystery Machine-- it's a camper van, and by far the largest non-commercial vehicle I have seen in Japan. Most cars here are small and box shaped and come in a variety of ice-cream colours; pinks and lavenders and mint and sea-foam green, salmon and champange and... anyway, I digress. The drive to the Onsen was fun as I learned more about life in Japan-- I could just point and say "what's that?" and either Norm or Waka would have an answer for me. For example, there are searchlights all over the city, and I wanted to know why. Norm told me that they are on the tops of all the Love Hotels, and as long as the searchlights are on, there's still vacancy! Even Waka didn't know that, so we were both surprised. The Onsen was at the end of a road which had three Love Hotels on it in a row-- big giant rainbow-flashing Love Hotels. The onsen in comparison had a sedate and ancient looking entrance, a pebbled path and tamed shrubberies. We took off our shoes as we entered, walked past the cafe and smoking lounge (where you can relax after your soak) and bought our way into the inner corridor. Norm headed off to the men's section, and I followed Waka into the women's section. I should preface my next comment with some info; a day or so before going to the Onsen I was concerned about my- shall we say- nether-regions, and what the Japanese standard of acceptable female bushiness was. I finally decided to not... "mow the lawn". Well, I shouldn't have worried. It was a steamy wilderness of petite Amazon women in there! Many many untamed shrubberies! Anyway, Waka and I stripped down and she led me to the bathing area where we sat in rows with other women and scrubbed and washed our skin and hair and chatted pleasantly. Next she showed me around the interior baths-- most of them little white-tiled deep hot-tubs with various features-- one with bags of stones with 'positive energy', a couple with handle bars and strong jets, one with an electric current(!). Then we went outside to the other baths-- more ancient in styling, some of them looked like giant ceramic pots for trees, others like wooden bath-tubs. The best was the main pool, all done in dark stone-work, and very large. It even had a steamy cave with a hot waterfall. The water was salty and rust-coloured and about 42 degrees C-- even hotter water came up through the cracks in the stones, so I had to be careful where I sat! Waka put her folded white towel on her head like all of the women around us. "Why do we do this?" I asked as I followed suit. "Oh, it's just to keep your towel out of the water." Oh. I had always thought there was something more traditional and ritualistic about it! Like, putting a white towel on your head protected you from demons or something... Once I knew that it was for function and not fantasy, I used my towel to tie up my hair. Waka thought that was cool and did it too. I may have started a new Onsen trend in Japan! Anyway, I spent a while bouncing from bath to bath so that I could try them all, and fooling around by sticking my fingers in the water spouts and trying to overflow my ceramic tub. Lots of fun! Then the lethargy of the heated water began to creep in. I moved back to the super-hot stone bath and sat still and calm for as long as I could stand the heat. Then I made my dizzy way to the cold-bath (19 degrees C) and submerged myself. The throb of my shocked system felt so good that I wallowed there for about five minutes, where I got many surprised glances from the other women. Turns out that most people don't use the cold bath in the winter, instead cooling themselves by sitting out in the open. Crazy Canadian! Anyway, it felt wonderful and I was nearly hallucinating when I dragged myself out with my numb skin. Colours were brighter! Smells were stronger! The floor was undulating! Anyway, I went inside and tried the churro-churro bath and the handle-bar baths although I skipped the electric bath. Waka found me and told me that it was time to go... so we reversed the process, going back to the seated showers for a final wash and rinse and back to the tatami-mat change room full of shining women. There was one small boy there with his mom, and he sure got an eyeful! He was saying 'hi' to me in the changeroom, and then 'bye' over and over in the lounge when we went back out to meet Norm. Norm talked to the little guy in Japanese; the little guy said he watches English cartoons every morning... so I guess I was the first forienger he could practice on! The giant naked blonde at the onsen! There's something he probably won't soon forget!

Anyway, thanks for your email and notes-- it's good to know people are thinking about me. My mom and dad have sent me a couple of letters (and some money... thank you!), and just a couple of days ago Donna and Sarah sent me a package with tapes of Oprah and Grey's Anatomy and Survivor... I could not be happier! I'm watching them little by little, savouring them and trying to make them last... tastes of home! I'll write again as soon as I can-- please email me and let me know if there's anything you're curious about or would like to know more about, and I can theme my blogs accordingly!

Namaste

Endrene