First, to answer lady K's question, no, I didn't catch an eel. The saying 'slippery as an eel' is directly applicable. But one little girl kept catching them over and over... however, I think she was squeezing the living daylights out of them. Their poor wee eel eyes were bugging out of their slimy heads! As much as I enjoy eating them, I didn't want to hurt them. If that makes any sense.

Today is palm-tree trimming day in the downtown city parks. They've got a crane, and they don't seem to know when to stop... the first few look like very badly shaven poodles. Only about 4 fronds left sticking off the top! I suppose it's in part for safety reasons. Awa Odori will be happening in a couple of weeks, and when this city is filled with throngs of people, you don't want someone getting bonked on the head by a coconut or whacked by a mingy old palm frond.

Speaking of Awa Odori, I've had my first couple of stabs at trying Awa dancing. Rhythm never have beeing my strong point, I can safely say that I suck. However, it is enormous fun! My first try was at the gallery when I went out to Kamiita to see the art show. Tommy Yu was there with his samisen and his samisen master, and another fellow who could play the flute, and two little boys, aged four and five. Those two would take turns banging on the ding-ding-ding instrument (integral to Awa music, you see) and doing the step-step-step dance with wrists flapping madly above their heads. Some sort of television crew for the local news was there, filming both the art show and the impromptu concert. I stood back and amusedly took in this darling circus act, until Mr. Flute insisted that I try too. Insisted adamantly. So I did, and really, the four-year-old was absolutely the better dancer. After the music ended, I thanked him, calling him sensei. This pleased him so much that he and his brother showed me the frog and the large beetle that they had caught. I was, of course, honoured.
Awa dance adventure II was just two nights ago; this past weekend saw the Yoshinogawa festival set up camp for three days at the base of the bridge I cross to go to work. On Saturday night I immersed myself in the buzzing crowds with my camera and got some amazing pictures. Girls in yukata, laughing teenagers, a huge stage and free concerts. Little kids hugging blow-up toys of giant shiny beetles (beetles are a boy's best friend in Japan). Squid-on-stick, octopus balls, families and business men and giggling women surrounding the blazing grills on each table. Each grill was filled with glowing coals supplied by gorgeous sweaty young men who were fanning the fires over by the 'get-your-red-hot-grill-here' tent. Jon managed to pick me out of the crowd (the only natural blond in sight, I suppose) and introduced me to his student who was working in the beer tent, who in turn, introduced me to some free beer. Eventually Denise found us in the crowd as well, and the three of us watched the fireworks together. An interesting experience, as all the floodlights on the field were turned off so we could get the full effect of the colourful blasts, but the entire show was annoyingly commentated. Enjoy, but don't form your own opinions about what you are seeing... that was my impression, anyway. After the lights came back on, an Awa dance show started up on the stage, and Andy and Maz came filtering through the crowd to find us. I couldn't stop wiggling through the show! The drums are just so... engaging. After the last troupe danced off the stage, they spread throughout the crowd and continued to play the music... one guy ended up near me, and of course, I lept at the opportunity to try the male form of the dance (the little boys at the gallery had been doing the girl-style dancing). Lots of squatting and leaping and more wrist-twisting. Excellent fun. At any rate, I am very excited about the upcoming festival.

Regarding the beetles... I have never seen so many insects in my LIFE. Everwhere I turn I see a new kind of butterfly, blue, green, black, yellow, white, or a different beetle or a bigger spider (saw one freakishly huge one in an onsen a couple of weeks ago... damn thing had the leg span of a dinner plate). The most interesting of the insects are the cicadas... I wake of every morning to hear their incredibly loud electric song. Check this out if you want to hear them too: http://homepage2.nifty.com/saisho/cicadasong_e.html When I was arriving at the gallery last week, walking through the garden I saw this huge sparrow flying very mechanically towards me; I ducked as it passed and it tried to fly up under some stairs, presumably to get to its nest. When it couldn't get a foothold, it let out this angry prehistoric SQUAWK that made it very clear that it was not a sparrow. One more giant bug, come to dazzle me with its fearsomeness! Who knew bugs could squawk?

Namaste

Endrene

Please come to FURIKAERU:
Another Look at Tokushima
Tuesday, July 25th- Saturday, July 30th
10am-6pm
WAZA NO YAKATA, Kamiita
088-637-6555

This art show features four foriegn artists, both living in and inspired by Tokushima. Michael Liska: Photography. Endrene Shepherd: Watercolours and Pen & Ink. Amy Sturgeon: Oils. Tommy Yu: Watercolours. From Ishii town, take route 34 north to Kamiita. Go straight and pass Itano's fire station, and temple #5. Turn left at the next stoplight and continue for about 2 km. Waza no Yakata is on the left.

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OK, so if you're not in Japan, I'll forgive you for not attending. I have yet to make it out to see the show myself, but the gallery is just stunning (Mike showed me some photos from last year's show) and I am amazed by my unbelievable good fortune in being included. I was expecting a semi-abandoned warehouse, but this is a gallery, folks. Huge expanses of pristine white walls and hardwood floors. Wow! Also, major kudos go out to my framers, GINCHO. For about $600 CDN, 18 pieces of artwork were matted and framed professionally and delivered to Kamiita. Beat that!

Another busy week has passed. I'm thinking about taking on a private student; a five-year-old who spent the last two years in the USA. I can't imagine a better situation for my first private; someone I can play with! Play to learn, and learn to play, that's my motto... I'm meeting his dad tomorrow for lunch and an interview.

This past week EARTHQUAKES have been brought up eerily often. I had been thinking about how someone had said that the next 'big one' was meant to have it's epicenter in Shikoku when Ume phoned and said that her dad was worried about me, and wanted to be sure I knew where to go in case of an emergency. Chad emailed me and asked about earthquakes. And then: Yoshino's latest 'adventure' was to take me to the Tokushima Prefectural Fire Training Academy and the free disaster prepardness center, ostensibly, 'for fun'. I sat through three scary and unintelligible short films about tsunamis, earthquakes, fires and typhoons. Then I got to go into the earthquake simulator and have the living daylights scared out of me. We also tried putting out a fake fire caused by a paper airplane getting stuck in an electric heater, ran through smoky corridors to escape from another fake fire, and went in a wind room to feel the potential force of a typhoon. I also got photos of Yoshino getting frisky with a CPR dummy. But it was the earthquake room that had the greatest effect on me... I have since put together my emergency kit, and am trying to register with the Canadian embassy, just-in-case. I've also taken my stereo off of its wobbly pedstal and put it on the floor. Now let's hope that my precautions won't come in handy.

After work last night I biked to Bubu's house after he sent me a message reading "sashimi sashimi! shochu shochu! come come! right now! ASAP!". I arrived to find Bubu, Haruko, Eri, Miho and Mr. Yakuza (don't know his real name, but Bubu always teases him about looking like a gangster). Lots of fresh tai (snapper), jaga nikku, various salads, special edamame that smelled like green tea, and peaches with maple syrup (thanks mom) for dessert! Bubu showed me the letter he had written to thank my mom and dad for the gifts they'd sent, and said that he hadn't sent it yet because he was dissatisfied with it. (I thought it was quite nice). Then, being quite drunk, he ran upstairs to get an expensive obi to show me his family emblem (Stylized butterfly). When I gushed about it, he and Haruko took me upstairs and started pulling out boxes of carefully wrapped kimono and obi to show me... two, having belonged to his mother (and perhaps her mother before her) were mindblowingly detailed, stitched in gold with images of ancient Japanese daily life. One obi was worth in excess of 200,000 yen. Haruko had never worn them, claiming they were new to her, and only to be worn on happy occaisions. I assured her that she could wear one of them to my wedding (whenever that may be)! Back down at the dinner table, everyone began asking me if I had eaten unagi (eel) on sunday. Of course! It was National Eat Eel Day, so I would be missing out on some cultural experience if I didn't eat eel! This day is always planned to fall on what has been historically, the hottest day of the year in Japan. Barbequed eel is quite oily, and is meant to give one energy during the heady days of summer. Outside the supermarket at Fugi Grand, there was even a kiddie pool filled with terrified eels swimming for their lives as little children tried to grab them. Of course, I had to try too... I'm sure I presented quite a spectacle to the surrounding adults. Six children on their knees splashing in the eel pool; 5 little Japanese ones, and one great big blonde one!

One more wild week gone by... thank goodness. I've been sick the last few days with food poisoning; but seeing as that is part of the end of my week and I want to tell you about the beginning, we'll leave that subject for now.

Last friday, Yoshino had yet another adventure planned. As far as I knew, it involved swimming. He gave me the option of Beach or River. I chose River, seeing as I'd been beaching it up on my own lately. Anyway, as the day invariably does with Yoshino, it stretched out and out, and will from here-on be remembered as 'Endrene's Wettest Day Ever'. We started out slowly, stopping in a few curio shops that Yoshino was interested in, and a sports store where I purchased a new mask and snorkle. By the time we started zooming out into the countryside and into the mountains, a vicious-looking thunder-storm was moving in all around us. It sarted to rain. By this time, I was determined that we were going swimming, thunder, lightening, and rain be damned. We drove on and on and on, until the jungly roads became nearly impassable for one car-- nevermind two. I started to think, "gee... they're going to have a hard time recovering my body if the car goes over this cliff here..." when finially Yoshino was satisfied with our location and stopped. No river in sight-- oh wait, there it is, over the side of this embankment! Big boulders puncuated a friendly-looking, medium-speed river, flanked on all sides by a richly green, narrow valley. So down we clambered, through razor-grass as tall as me (I still have the scratches on my ankles and on my arms to prove it) and struggled to get across the slippery rocks... thank goodness I didn't take any electronic equipment with me that day, as I had an opportunity to test my flexibility, doing the splits across the rocks, and falling completely in with my clothes on three times before making it across! The swimming itself was peaceful and uneventful-- the water was quite scummy, and not a lot of fish to see, aside from a few sculpins. Then-- the heavens opened! The storm hit in earnest, shaking the high tropical valley with a terrifying force. Yoshino scuttled under a boulder with only my wet towel to keep his miniscule frame warm, while I stubbornly kept swimming... counting the time between flashes and rolls of thunder, until the lightening was cracking right over our heads. At which point I also scuttled under the boulder. We gave up shortly thereafter, trudging back up to the car. I had no change of clothes, so he furnished my chair with a deflated air mattress to protect his apolstrey, and off we went. After a difficult exchange, both of us tripping over each other's native tongues, I believed we had come to an agreement to go to an onsen. "Ahhh, hot water...." I was dreaming! First, we went to a shrine/temple, waa-a-a-a-ay high up on the mountain. It was deserted, but had a lovely view. Miles and miles and miles of green hills surrounded us; only specks of civilization appeared low in the valley. Eventually a monk appeared, and told us that we could gong the enormous bell on the shrine grounds as many times as we wished. I gonged. Then I started to shiver with the damp. What's next? Careening through the high jungle roads (supposedly on our way to the onsen), me shifting slipperely on my plastic seat cover, we both look up in awe to see the incredible long thin veil of a waterfall tumbling down into the valley. It couldn't have been more than 4 feet in diameter, but must have been falling for more than 500 feet. We had to stop... I got out and was surprised to see pale grey crabs crawling about everywhere! Japanese jungle land-crabs! Of course, I poked at them a bit while Yoshino began climbing the ancient staircase to the waterfall. I caught up with him at the top, where the falls were slapping against the black rocks and blowing a cool mist out in waves. He explained to me that a famous monk used to come there-- I remembered reading somewhere that monks would stand for hours with their bare heads under similar waterfalls, palms pressed together, as a sort of meditation or training. "Do you want to try?" he asked me. Well, seeing as I'm already soaked... why not!? There is sort of a feeling of resoluteness and supplication to nature that takes over as the cool water pounds your brain. It was an amazing moment. However, it really only lasted long enough for Yoshino to take a picture; my craving for the soothing warmth of the public bath was starting to overwhelm me. THEN: On to the onsen. Really. It was a simple one, just one main indoor bath with jacuzzi bubbles, where I happily soaked with three grandmas and a 5 year old girl who regarded me with naked suspicion (pun not intended... but funny anyhow)! Then I changed back into my sodden clothes and we drove back into town and went out for dinner at an 'All Natural Viking Style' restaurant. 'Viking Style' is Japanese-English for 'Buffet'. I don't know why. There were all kinds of interesting salads and concoctions that I had never seen before, so of course, I was all over that. Yoshino kept admonishing me for eating the less expensive food. "You won't reach 2000 yen! You eat only 500 yen!" I didn't care. By the time our timed meal was up (90 minutes max. to prevent those who can eat all they want from indulging too deeply) I was wrinkled all over from being wet for so long, and quite plainly demanded to be taken home. Good day, wet day, The End!

The very next day Ingrid had a Yukata party... it was a little surreal. Imagine this: You are in Japan. And all around you in a crammed little bar, are white girls in Japanese garb. It was a little like Halloween. At one point Ingrid decided that it was time to 'take a walk'. Three of us decided to come along: A Japanese girl named Mari in a dark blue yukata with a yellow obi (the sash and bow that tie tightly around your middle), me in my navy-red-white number with my red obi (made by Ume's grandmother for me some 12 years ago), and a stunning brunette named Angela in turquiose with a white obi. Ingrid herself was drop-dead gorgeous in a real white-silk kimono... not just a flimsy cotton yukata. She was perfect in every way, right down to her spotless white tabi socks and the white blossom in her dark done-up hair. The four of us sashayed through the narrow streets of the night district, illiciting wolf-whistles and calls of "sugoi kirei!" from the groups of men we passed. I have to admit I soaked it up- it was like being a celebrity on tour! I cooled myself with a paper fan that Yumi from Big Brother's had given to me one hot day; the fan is emblazoned with a Japanese phrase that basically says: "Don't you know who I am? Better show some respect!"... basically, a cheeky sort of Yakuza fan. You can imagine how quickly I tucked it into the folds of my yukata when Ingrid stopped to chat with a real Yakuza during our walk. We went to get our pictures taken and put onto stickers... the first time I've done this since I was here 10 years ago. The technology is much more complex now. After your photos are taken, you can go into a second booth where your photos pop up; you choose your favorites, then use little metal pens and a computer screen to 'decorate' your pictures with various backgrounds and frames and hearts and stars and what-have-you. Too cool! I didn't stay too long at the party after we returned. The circus-style atmosphere was starting to jangle me a bit as there's only so much pseudo-Japan I can take. Besides, the very next night was...

Ashley's goodbye party! Party party party. This was at our usual Nova Izakaya of choice, DomaDoma. Ashley was presented with a GIGANTIC 3 foot cucumber, which had been decorated with ASH in blue pen, and a lot of hearts. Much hilarity ensued. I had invited Yoshino along, seeing as he's always amazed by the antics of foriegners; I figured that it'd be like a free trip to the zoo. He was very happy to sit back and watch as we squealed and drank and laughed. It wasn't long before Tomomi was floppily cuddling everyone and Bani did the haka and the Japansese staff were coyly cuddling Ash's cucumber... I was talking with Neil and our newest recruit, Travis, while most of this was going on. "Man," one of them said, "this is the sort of office party you'd have to have a monday morning meeting about back home..." That's true. Sexual harrassment, apparently, only happens in the office. Once you're out in the world, anything can happen. And most people are polite enough to pretend it never happened the next day. Not to say that anyone was being harrassed. All of us were just drinking too much, and behaving as though we had newly entered adolesence-- pure hormones and crass humor. Yoshino sat madly typing away on his electronic dictionary, looking up 'performance' and 'poor taste/dirty'. He later told me I was nekko o kabuto (I know I've spelled this wrong-- but it means to have a 'Cat on your Head). What he meant was that I was hiding my true self... Jeff's dictionary says that it is "One who acts as if butter wouldn't melt in one's mouth". If that makes any more sense. At any rate, since moving out on my own, I haven't been eating or cooking very much, so I took the opportunity to eat way TOO much, and unfortunately I included some undercooked chicken, and out-of-season sashimi (Bubu later declared that I was "Baka, baka, BAKA desu ne!" for eating sashimi at an Izakaya at this time of year). Which brings us back to the beginning. Food poisoning.

Yup. I won't go into the gory details, but by 8am the next day, I knew I was out for the count, and phoned in sick. My manager called me back at 10:30, pleading with me to come in at 2, as she couldn't find a replacement... I figured if I didn't eat or drink anything until then, I could manage to get through five lessons without too much difficulty. As a precaution, I opted for the black pants instead of the white skirt. The next day I knew I had to see a doctor, as the problem hadn't ceased, and I dragged myself across the street to Bubu's shop. As fate would have it, their daughter Eri was also sick, and so the two of us were bundled into Bubu's jeep and carted off to the doctor like puppies going for innoculation. Which I was-- innocualted, that is. A shot in the arm, and two baggies for of medicine later, Bubu had us loaded back in the jeep. He stopped at his mother's house... still unoccupied, and filled with her belongings. He wanted to tour me through it to see her paintings and studio, and I did as best I could. It was pretty overwhelming, seeing as I was full of drugs, and had eaten the equivilant of a fistful of food in the last 48 hours. Not to mention that the house creepily reminded me of my grandparents Endreny's old house, as it was full of strange smells, dust, stockpiled belongings and unopened gifts. The house where Bubu was born. This 16 room monsterpiece of Japanese architecture... empty! And with the roof peeling back and dropping filth and black mould onto the ancient treasures... I recalled all of the weird dreams I've been having lately. I seem to be in the future, discovering the lost civilization of Japan. Everything is overgrowth and undergrowth, with only a sign for the FUNKY TIME CAFE sticking out here, and some weirdly huge sculptures of racoons and radishes there. I'm starting so see why the low birth rate in Japan worries some of my students; there's a palapable feeling that the society is fraying at the edges. All the weeds in the parks that I thought would have been cleared away by now-- still there. All the beautiful fountains I thought would have been turned on by now-- still empty.

I'm outta steam. I'll leave you with that thought.

Oh, and P.S., I feel much better, thanks!

What a fan-frickin-tabulous day! Living alone has major benefits... like, I actually get things done! Yesterday I was organized enough to do all of my laundry and take the last of my paintings to the frame shop in Akita Machi. So when I woke up this morning and realized that A) I didn't have to work until 4 PM and B) The sun was shining and a breeze was blowing-- of course I decided that it was Endrene-Adventure time! I slapped on the SPF 45 and strapped on the red bikini that mom sent in February, loaded up a bag with the essentials; towel, sunglasses, what-have-you. I trundled my mama-chari bike over to the Kiyoei and bought breakfast/lunch: om-rice, some kinda potato-salad thing, watermelon, a stawberry-coco jelly, water, iced tea, iced coffee. While shopping, I bumped into Shelley, a Japanese student of Neil's. He has this amazing custom-jewelry shop across the street from the Kiyoei called 'Kiss The Hand', so after paying for my groceries, I popped in to give him a little English Challenge before I took off for the beach. I admired his work as we tried to talk about the weather; his English is only a little better than my Japanese (which is still-- regrettably-- awful). At any rate, I managed to explain to him that I didn't mind the humidity, and that I was going to ride my bike to Komatsu beach. He managed to explain to me that I was nuts. His eyes widened as he flung his arms wide. "So far!! Water- so cold!" No, problem, I asserted, flexing my biceps. "I am a strong girl!"

The ride out was beautiful. Everything-- the fields, rice paddies, grasses at the side of the road-- is so amazingly lush and green, and the hazy pale blue of the Yoshino river was only slightly greener than the blue of the sky, so it almost looked like there was no end or beginning the the earth or heavens. The wind was just strong enough to keep me cool- with the humidity, it's the moment you stand still that you become soaked with sweat. I had forgotten how far it was to the beach, but as the road was straight and smooth along the riverside, I didn't mind a bit. When I got there, I was surprised to discover that the beach had roughly the same amount of debris on it as the last time I was there; I guess I assumed it would be spotless for beach season. The shells and chunks of driftwood I don't mind-- it's the rubber gloves and old pop cans that bother me. That aside-- I was thrilled to be there. Waves! Sun! Sand! Salty Air! Cute Japanese Surfer Dudes! I stripped off my shorts and t-shirt and wandered towards the waters edge. By the way mom, the bikini bra is padded... have you seen my breasts? Do I need padding? I think I was responsible for a few rubber-necking injuries today! I was glad to have my dark glasses so that I could peer about without being too obvious. I felt a little nervous about one older fellow who seemed to be following me a little, so I picked a spot for my bag near another gentleman who looked to be respectably self-absorbed. And in I went! The water was quite warm... I have no idea how Shelley could've thought it'd be too cold. I happily bounced and splashed and allowed myself to be buffeted by the waves as I attempted to body-surf. Respectable guy came in too, and splashed about near three joyfully screeching Japanese girls, but seemed to be keeping an eye on me. I went in and out a couple of times, taking a break to soak up the sun and eat my watermelon. Respectable guy smoked a cigarette and watched me very carefully as I did this. I had one last swim, and lost my sunglasses when a big wave whammed me; no problem, they were cheap. It was time to move on anyhow. I picked up my bag and made my way to the showers. Lo and behold, who appeared as I was rinsing off? Not-so-Repectable guy. I guess I can't really be too hard on him; he proabably just wanted to say talk, but was initially too shy. I just haven't quite gotten used to the idea that stalking is a legitimate display of interest. He hovered around a little more as I was towelling off, and then finally walked right up to me and asked where I was from. Always civil, I replied. "Canada." Then I think he asked me what I was doing here; when I said "Nova-no-sensei desu," he nodded quickly, and walked off, never to be seen again. Weird.

I went from the beach to the nearby Kawauchi Onsen to get de-gritted before going to work. The system was different than the Ebisu Onsen; when I walked up and waited expectantly at the counter, the girl looked at me like I was crazy. "Ofuru?" (Bath?) Hai, Yes, I nodded and grinned enthusiastically. She then very kindly walked me back to the entrace and showed me an enormous vending machine with a myriad of buttons... this one for the bath, that one for an oki towel, this one for a chichai towel, shampoo, bodywash, rinse. When I plugged my coins in, I half-expected the machine to spit out a towel and a bottle of shampoo, but what I got was an assortment of little tickets. Which I took to the counter. Where the girl looked at me like I was not so crazy. She handed me my towel and packets of body-cleansing goodness and I made my way into the heart of the onsen. I was surprised to find that the ladies changing area was also a smoking room, so that was kind of gross. Otherwise, the interior was not too different from Ebisu; just a lot less ornate and elaborate. There were fewer baths and only one small square outdoor pool done in ultramarine tile, but all in all it was very pleasant and relaxing-- and cleansing, which was really the whole point. I imagine that the bulk of their business comes from beach-weary Komatsu-goers. I wonder how many pounds of sand their patrons drag in from the beach every year?

Work this afternoon just sailed by; there's nothing like having a short work-day before your weekend begins. I suppose I'll have to spend friday finishing framing all of my artwork: the show is on the 25th in Naruto. There will be 4 of us-- two Americans and a British girl and I. Most of my works are small black-and-whites on paper of moments and people that have struck me over the past few months. A couple are more colorful fantasy-based watercolors with a lot of asian influence. I still have no idea how I am going to get the paintings to Naruto... At any rate, I'm psyched to have my work on display. As for tomorrow... I'm going back to the beach!

I have hot water, a vacuum cleaner, a toaster, a blender, a futon, a stereo, some plants, a small glass table and a little rice-paper lamp. All set!

I've been in to the BuBu shop more than usual due to its convienient proximity. Lately he's taken to explaining an ancient Chinese story to me each time I go in. Today's story was about The Super Monkey. Bubu told it to me to illustrate the relationship he has with his wife:

"The Super Monkey could fly a long long ways without stopping! One day, this monkey meets the Buddha. The Buddha says to him, 'Go, then!' So the Monkey, he flies, flies, flies a long, long ways. The monkey, he comes to... these five. (here we stopped and Bubu drew a picture and I explained to him that the word he was looking for was 'pillars'.) So, the monkey comes to these 5 pillars. He flies, the middle one, he makes a mark. Then he flies back long way to the Buddha. The monkey says, 'I flew very far away, which one?' The Buddha says, 'this one.' (Here, Bubu holds up his hand and points to his middle finger. Then stares at me poignantly, waiting for enlightenment to strike.) You understand? The Buddha is so big, everywhere, and very wise and clever. The middle one, is only the Buddha finger. The monkey thinks he is so clever! She is the Buddha-- and I, am the monkey! Super Monkey!"

All moved in now. Unpacked, too. I've even nicknamed my neighbor 'Harvey Wallbanger' due to his annoying habit of (duh) banging on the wall at all odd hours of the day and night... even when I am sleeping, so at least I know I'm not annoying him. Unless of course he's one of these hyper-sensitive types and I'm sending off some strange vibes that disturb his aura...

Oooh! Just got a call on my cell phone from my landlord-- I've got to go home right away; the gas company is sending someone to turn on my hot water. Did I mention that I'd been party to the zen buddhist habit of taking cold showers every day? And not by choice?

It's mushiatsui! That means 'hot and humid', and I can't think of a better word to describe it... try saying it with a touch of sticky fatigue, "Oh, MOOSHY-AtSOOeee!" Perfect. Now is the season of unending whiny complaints from sweaty gaijin and overworked students, and frankly, I find it a little annoying. Yes, it's hot, yes it's sticky-- but this is freakin' sub-tropical Japan, people! Get over yourselves-- go to the beach and relish the heat, or enjoy the shivery sensation of damp limbs cooling down in an air-conditioned room... whatever you do, don't whine about it!

Yesterday I saw Bani at work for the first time since his return from his 3 weeks in Germany. "Who won?" I asked. He looked a little incredulous as he told me that the World Cup isn't over yet... oh. I stopped paying attention when Japan got knocked out. Anyway, he very kindly offered to help me finish moving to my new place after work. We went in his little black jeep-type-thing to the Boobie Palace and I quickly finished my haphazard packing as he excitedly regailed Joanna and Kat with his World Cup adventures. Nice to speak to girls who actually appreciate the language of soccer, I guess! Red card, yellow card, one card, two card... whatever. I just think: "Run, beautiful men! Oh yes! Run and jump and kick the pretty ball!" It's probably the same way most men feel about figure-skating.

Anyway, now I'm mostly moved in... I have yet to unpack and redistribute the wealth. How have I managed to accumulate so much stuff in such a short period of time? The pack-rack gene in me seems to live on no matter what I do to eradicate it. I shouldn't complain; I have most of what I need. Dan has now left for Australia-- before he went, he bestowed me with boxes of kitchen supplies, including a blender, a food processor, and a takoyaki-making kit. Bubu's family has also given me some of Eri's things from her university days; lovely cream curtains, and a little glass coffee table. I have yet to buy an ironing board and garbage cans... ahhh. So much life goes into the mundane details. The apartment is miniscule (I'm sure I've said this before), and now I'm really appreciating my brief experience with dorm life during my last 4 months of university. It's very similar; the close quarters, the neighbors that bang on the walls at 3 am. At least here I have a washroom and a hot plate!

Canada Day was celebrated in typical Canadian fashion-- somewhat quietly, with dry humor and multicultural flair. Kat, Denise, Alex and I (the 4 Nova Canadians) were accompanied by Alex's boyfriend Tomomi and Joanna at a Denny's-style Izakaya. Various challenges were dealt with: vegetarianism, Denise's wheat and dairy allergy, Alex's shrimp allergy... only Tomomi and I could eat everything (and we did!) We had several pints of beer and laughed over the pre-packaged moist towelettes that are proffered before every meal-- the funniest ones I have seen are labeled 'Shilky Touch', but Alex had seen one called 'My Wet Friend'. The laughter and clever conversation were very uplifting-- Tomomi and I eyed our cute waiters and hosts and argued over which was the most darling. As we left, Kat stopped at the door to have her picture taken with (I thought) the cutest host at the front door. We wound our way through the damp warm streets, brightly lit with red lanterns and rainbow-coloured signs, to an Irish pub. Once you are in one of these themed spaces, you swear you could be in another part of the world; the Pouges were trilling brightly from the speakers, the seats were rich dark red leather, the walls were stone and brick, and the pint of Guiness was perfect. The evening ended rather abruptly-- although Tomomi wanted to carry on to a gay bar, I was ready for bed and Alex had to leave to catch his train.

Kat and I made our way back along the edge of Mt. Bizan; we stopped at one of the temples along the way. It was mysterious in the dark, with the buzz of cicadas all around and the heady cool scent of the mountain gardenias coming down the dusky slopes and encircling us. I showed her how to rinse your hands, how to ring the bell to scare the bad spirits away, and to clap to attract the attention of the gods. I talked about how I felt like Japan had chosen me; and not the other way around. In 1994 my mom had somehow heard about this opportunity through my school district-- write an essay about why I wanted to go to Japan and win a chance to be part of a two-week exchange. To tell the truth, I had never really thought about Japan before, other than it being the ending to 'MADE IN' on most of my childhood toys. Cajoled by my parents, I leafed through an old LIFE book on Japan that someone had picked up at a garage sale, and composed an essay. I felt like such a faker, saying that I was interested in geisha and the culture and changes to Japan after WWII... but someone liked my essay. And so I went. It seems like ever since that first experience, Japan has kept on knocking on the door of my heart, bringing me some of my ricest and most profound experiences-- whether I wanted them or not. I made one of my truest friends at Japanese summer school at UBC in 1995. Thanks to the generosity of my grandparents, I went to Hokkaido when I was 1996 on another brief exchange. There I gave a speech in Japanese to a crowd at a wine festival, mistakenly mixing up the words for 'scary' and 'pretty' when I described the town. I have learned and forgotten and learned and forgotten how to read hiragana and katagana three times-- now I'm learning again. I'm immersed in this culture, and I often feel like I'm only riding the tides of my destiny. I learn, and I watch, I imitate and posture, and yet I always try to remain completely myself, hoping that I can teach as much as I learn. It's sometimes incredible, and sometimes terrifying... but it's good to feel so alive.