Parting words perhaps.

I regret to inform you that I can no longer regularly update Single White Gaijin. The title no longer reflects my position in life, as I've returned to a fairly normal bohemian lifestyle in Bloomington, Indiana. The small instances of Culture Shock are actually a formerly common feature of my American life. I've always hated rude people, and I've always been a little disturbed/disgusted by American supermarkets (I think I'll forever exile myself from anything resembling a Walmart Supercenter).

My life is picking up, and I'm fully (perhaps over) employed. A few days a week at a record store, and few days a week at a coffeeshop. I have all these newly acquired Hipster Points, but I'm not entirely sure where they're redeemable.

Of course, I'm still trying to wrangle my stuff from the Japanese company, and the two American companies they've sent me through. I've sent about 30 emails, and have gotten very little accomplished. I'm seriously considering just giving up on my right to my packages, and letting them be destroyed or impounded, or whatever. On the one hand, it's sad to let some of my most prized possessions go by the wayside on account of an incredible amount of money. On the other, stuff is just stuff. The real treasures from my time in Japan are all tucked safely into my heart and my mind. And I won't ever lose those, and they'll never get frayed at the edges and worn from use. So, when I step back and consider which mementos are likely to gather dust, as I shift them from closet to closet, and which will just glow more radiantly as time goes by, the decision does not seem as tough.

That's not to say that I'm giving up just yet.

Things are weird at home; my parents are having some serious financial trouble, and are scrambling to hold on to the house (well, if you can call it scrambling), my closest aunt was just diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, my younger brother ran away (I assume still unaccounted for; my parents didn't tell me he ran away until two weeks after the fact, so you never know), another brother was just divorced from his wife of two years, etc. It's strange to jump right back into a life that hasn't slowed or stopped since you've been gone. That's all I can think to say about that.

I started this blog in an attempt to round out my experience and finish my record of it. Instead, I just left another update. Maybe that's the best way to end it. And, then again, maybe that's not the end at all.

London Calling, London Drinking, London Sleeping.

We left France via the Chunnel. Which ... is apparently not what they call it in either the UK or France. But, anyway, we met some nice actor named Chioke on the train. Oh, and we went first class because the tickets for some bizarre reason were the same price as coach. That meant we were offered champagne. Champagne. I had a beer instead.

Anyway, we got into London and stayed in a hostel for two nights. It was our first experience away from the high-society living, and I really enjoyed it. We met some nice people, the place was clean and felt safe. We did a free walking tour of the West end of London, and later went out on a pub crawl. Joe and I had a great time, we made pretty good friends with a Canadian Dr. who is on his way back from a few months in Tanzania.

I was especially proud of fooling a few people I met that night with fake accents. I told some British guy that I was from New Zealand, and he totally bought it! For like ... hours. And then I tried out my Australian accent on a few Aussies, and they bought it ... for a few minutes. But, still, that's a pretty good step up for me. Last year, I couldn't have even told one from the other.

We got really drunk and had a great time until we ended up at some dance club. Man, I always thought I didn't like those places - now I'm positive. I guess to be honest, I was having a good enough time until everyone else paired off with a girl - even Joe. I just got so bored and sick of pretending to dance that I took off. Joe met some nice lady (who went by the name of "Dream" ... I'm positive that wasn't her real name) and stayed out til about sunrise. I was powerfully hungover the next day, but we managed to get out to Wolverhampton to see my friend Alan. He's such a nice dude. It's funny how I only really met him two times - once in Hiroshima and once again in Tokyo - but I feel like he's a dude of mine. Like, if he needed a favor and I could help him out, I'd jump to do it. And he's definitely helping us out by letting us stay.

Though, I must say that the Black Country is not as tourist-friendly as London. We had a good time last night at two local pubs, and had a good chat with the owners of the Ace of Spades Pub, Penny and Andy. Today, though, we were going to go to the Black Country Living Museum - you know the kind, a bunch of dudes in a village pretending it's two hundred years ago. I was pretty enthused about it, actually, but the prices were way too high for us. Almost 20 US Dollars for admission is just too much for us.

So, we went for a bit of a walk around Alan's place. But, I was a bit startled. Some young Chavs (British teenage troublemakers) were out for a walk as well, and one of them decided to piss in broad daylight next to the canal, as we walked by on the other side. As we walked away he said "Hey, dickheads, were you looking at me? Were you faggots looking at me?" or something, to which I replied "Uh ... well, I'm looking at you now, because you called me a dickhead. But, I don't even know you, man." I was just so caught off guard by that kind of a thing. I've been in Japan too long! I got used to people just minding to themselves mostly, but I guess I better get used to the occassional angst-ridden youths. *shrug*

Anyway, we watched Blacula this morning, as we did laundry, and now we're watching Scream Blacula Scream. I fucking love Blacksploitation movies.

MY NAME ... IS BLACULA!

Paris - The city of Love (or Louvre, I forget which…). I admit that my last post was a little severe, and not necessarily a true reflection of how I actually find Paris now. Basically, Joe and I were having little spats following each other around the city with our packs on during the hottest part of the day. After we found the place and began to settle in, we went to look for a nice coffee shop around our hotel. And … basically, I just forgot that in Paris, you need to possibly learn how to speak a little French. It was awkward, I got flustered, and the people at the café thought we were a pair of total retards. For a second, I could tell that Joe was maybe hoping I could translate here as well as I did in Japan, but my Jr. High school lessons just wouldn’t return to me that quickly.

I’m happy to say, however, that everything’s come back - and more. After just a few days, I’m finding it fairly easy to order in French, follow basic instructions and other such things. In fact, I think I’m growing into Joe’s image of a translator. One thing that I’ve definitely learned from this trip is how easy the European languages I’ve encountered are to decipher. There are so many cognates, so many similar grammar rules, that essentially they are just strong dialects of the same language - which, they are. As the Roman empire fell (over the course of several hundred years), Latin grew into a regionalized version of the language of Empire. And since I speak fluently a language strongly based upon Latin (for all the words not connected to the day-to-day business of living like mother, brother, cow, pig, etc., but for words expressing complex ideas like constitution, fraternity, legality, etc.), it’s very easy to decipher.

Basically, I’m trying to justify moving to Europe. Which actually might be a great idea. In Amsterdam, speaking Arabic opened a whole window of Holland’s culture. Right now there is a huge cultural clash between the Dutch legacies - those whose Dutch families can be traced to Holland for generations - and the new arrivals - the Africans, Muslims, the racialized “other”. If you remember about the Dutch cartoonist being murdered for printing an image of Mohammed in a satirical comic in a Dutch newspaper, you’ll be familiar with the kinds of strain put on the communities there. The Dutch are hard-line Freedom of Speech supporters, and the new Muslim arrivals feel that some of their culture of Islamic religious rules should follow them.

Anyway, when I spoke Arabic with a guy selling falafel for 2 Euro, he gave me a discount on drinks, and kept saying nice things to me. Undoubtedly, he just felt really happy that, in a country where everyone expects him to learn their language, someone went through the trouble of learning his language. Though, speaking Arabic with shop owners also gave me a strange encounter in a corner store. He was from Iraq, and I could tell from his dialect, so I used a colloquial expression to greet him, and he totally assumed I was US military. He wasn’t exactly angry, but it did get awkward. He said “I’m from the country which your country bombed for 15 years,” and other things. Of course, I took the time to set him straight about how I feel about all that bullshit, but it seemed to blow up into this thing I hadn’t exactly foreseen.

The bottom line, I suppose, is that my Arabic skills have come in handy more often than my meager ability in French. People are almost always surprised and appreciative, and it feels a lot more friendly than the people I try to speak French with. It honestly makes me wonder if there’s not a chance that I might try to live in Amsterdam or Paris, because I could use my Arabic skills to deal with the Muslim communities here. In the same way that Spanish comes in handy working in the US, Arabic will certainly come in handy in Europe in the coming years.

It’s actually been a huge surprise to me, after coming from culturally homogenous Japan, to come to Europe and find it to be far more Muslim, African, and Middle Eastern than I expected. In a way, it obviously makes sense. It’s great that the people aren’t ghettoized, and if I were coming straight from America, I probably wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest. But, coming from the cultural ghetto of Japan, it was quite a shock.

Sadly, however, my trip to Europe hasn’t been the only thing on my mind. Before I left Japan, I gave S-Lan (again, my helper-friend) around 200 US dollars to pay for my moving fees. Due to some Japanese bureaucratic bullshit (as always), payment to the moving company is only accepted from Japanese bank accounts. …Which is bizarre, considering it caters to people who are moving overseas. Anyway, they are charging me 430 dollars more than what I anticipated, and I have to try to send it back to S-Lan as soon as possible. It’s totally frustrating, and I’ve already totally overspent my budget in Europe. So, basically, I have no cushion money at all once I get back to the States. And if I can’t find employment, I might be in a bit of trouble for a while. But, hey, I’ll settle that when I can. It’s just … pretty frustrating. Especially frustrating, when you consider that nothing I own is worth anywhere near 630 dollars. Fuck’s sake…

So, because of overspending the budget, and the extra expenses to get my stuff back to the states, Joe and I are trying to live much more cheaply on the road. So far, so good. But, because of all the nice hotels we’ve been staying it, it’s an interesting mix of high-class hotels and low-class living. As I said before, I think, we were washing our socks in the sink, and hanging them in the glass and marble shower, of the most expensive hotel room we’ve stayed in; somewhere around 500 dollars a night. Last night, we were staying in a 200 Euro a night hotel, and we shared a pack of ramen noodles from two coffee cups. And we used coffee stirrers as forks. And just tonight, after buying some wine, bread, cheese, olives and salami, we looked for a good bench to sit at, but couldn’t find one. When we did find one, it was near a stairwell that smelled like pee, across the street from some fancy eatery, with a beautiful view of a brick wall covered in graffiti. Also, we smell bad.

But, it’s been a lot of fun. Last night, we met some weird girls at the Arc De Triumphe, and we went to the Eiffel Tower together and watched it sparkle at night. They were a little weird, one Aussie and one American girl, about 18 years old or so who were being au pairs in Germany. And today, we were at the Louvre all day, around 8 hours. My dogs are barking, and my legs hurt, but it was totally worth it. I thought that the Louvre might be an old lady museum, but I was totally wrong. It ruled hard. My favorite section was the Greek/Roman sculpture. They had all my favorite emperors, including the hilariously named Pupienus. We leave for London the day after tomorrow. For the moment, we are drinking Unicorn Beer (don’t ask, the French are just weird people), and watching some weird French clip show in the TV before going to sleep. Damn, it feels good to be a gangster.

(This was written on my computer when I wasn't on the internet, then copied and pasted into the Blog. Please forgive any errors, I don't have time to correct them just now.)

So far, Paris is full of jerks.

Going Dutch.

Yesterday, Joe and I rolled into Amsterdam at three pm local time, after a twelve hour flight. The poor ladies on the plane actually cut us off (unofficially), though we weren't even drunk. Despite our best attempts at being charming to get them to like us again, the "Steward, we need a little something" button remained on for what is likely a world record. Around two hours or so. It was like a cold war, really. Only, hey, the workers really do have all the power. The strike totally broke us; I ended the flight with a tomato juice rather than Heineken.

The worst part was that an hour or so afterwards, the lady next to us (have pity for the poor thing, won't you?) pressed her button and had an attendant immediately. Meh, I guess two unwashed Americans have that effect on stewardesses.

It's so strange to be in Amsterdam, after being in Tokyo. There's good graffiti around, lots of brick architecture, and the people are huge. I am handling it all very well, but there are so many things about Western culture that I'm re-acquainting myself with. I'm picking up some Dutch words, and I'm totally shocked to find that I can mostly comprehend most signs, because of all the English or German cognates.


Also, the morning of our second day, we ran into my friend Sarah outside of a middle eastern restaurant. She's the one person I knew in Amsterdam, the girlfriend of another friend of mine, Tara. And, though we sent a few emails before the trip, we didn't have any solid plans to meet yet. Somehow, in a pretty good-size town, we just ended up running into her on her way to see a museum. It's strange, but I've almost come to expect weird shit like that to happen to me all the time.

In any case, we had a really excellent time today. Red Light District, the Gay Area during the Pride Parade, etc. The Gay Pride stuff was really fun. Granted we only kind of walked through and listened to a transvestite DJ playing dance music, but somehow that seemed like a fun and quirky thing to do.

I would definitely consider Amsterdam as a future living area, if at all possible. It's just like a giant college town, only I guess all the "students" are tourists. Which ... is us. I guess I am learning a lot. ... Just squinting through the haze, really.

I did go to the Van Gogh museum yesterday, and had a good, long look around. Man, that guy fucking loved colors.

My new favorite Van Gogh is, I think, called "Crab on it's back."

Day and Night; or a Duck Tales to be Remembered.

In twelve hours time, I'll be on an airplane headed away from Japan. ...It's difficult to expand in a novel way on that line of thought.


But, things haven't been all butter and happy-go-lucky coincidences: the moving company had some trouble with my things already, though I've sorted that out; my American ATM card wouldn't allow me to access my account, rendering me totally penniless (a harsh recollection of my visit to Vietnam); jumping off a train that was supposed to go to the airport, but terminated early, only to return to the initial station and find out that the direct lines to the airport had ceased for the evening, etc. Lately, I'm just too stressed out to be able to relax. It'll be nice once I'm away from Japan and I'm not translating for Joe all the time, and I don't have to worry about saying goodbye to anyone, finalizing bills, etc. I can just kind of go with the flow and try to be at the airports on time.

Man, I just don't know if I can sigh deeply enough right now. Just like, 20 minutes ago, I totally exploded on Joe because of my ATM card stuff. It always gets me incredibly frustrated, but there usually isn't someone listening to and commenting on my call. And usually, something as important as having enough money to eat for two weeks isn't at stake. Of course, I feel like a total jerk, and I've already apologized. But, I am really pumped to decrease to amount of responsibility I'm currently handling, in all the ways it's coming to me.


I have made a new resolution for the trip. Every time I start to get frustrated about something, I am going to sing the theme song to Duck Tales. Check out the translations, too. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that the Duck Tales theme song is the most translated song in the history of mankind. Somebody, please fact check that. I did already. In my gut.


Tomorrow, I'm going to get very drunk on an airplane, spend 12 hours in the air, and land four hours after takeoff. Eventually, I will be back in America.

Bourge joints.

Bourge. As in Bourgeois.

I've finished my ties to the town where I'd lived all year. The rooms are empty, my things are in boxes, somewhere (hopefully) headed to the ocean (at some port). I hope to see them again in a month or two. ...depending on shipping schedules, of course.

Man, I have so much to type, but I'm running on a schedule here. It seems that Joe and I just keep jumping out of moving vehicles, and we always hit the ground running. It's Tokyo, it's morning, it's evening, we're drunk, we're eating, all lights and sounds and (sometimes bizarre) smells. It's sad to think that I've just three more days in Japan at all, but the merry-go-round keeps turning so fast, I can't really focus on any one thing.

And, as far as the Bourge joints goes, it's a bizarre situation. My brother Joe works in a bar in the basement of a hotel. And because his paycheck has some hotel affiliation, he's considered to be a hotel employee. Because of his classification as a friend of the Intercontinental Hotel Corporation, he gets severely discounted rooms. So, yesterday we stayed at a hotel with rooms about 300 dollars a night, and we paid 55. People were calling us sir, everyone was wearing suits, the restaurants in the hotels were minimum of 40 dollars for an appetizer. Basically, it was a terrible capitalist nightmare.

But, the views are amazing. And, really, I feel more like we're scamming these places, almost. On the other hand, as I walked into the four-story lobby (with a CHAMPAGNE BAR on the second floor), wearing my CRASS shirt, carrying everything in a backpack rather than an suitcase, swearing my balls off, I wondered if maybe I'd set on fire. Much to my surprise, I didn't ignite, but I certainly started wondering if there was a place in Hell for a person like me. I can't decide if we're scamming these places, or if we're enjoying the rich life on a normal budget. And, can I lament about the situation of the workers if I've had a Manhattan on the rooftop bar of a 5-star Tokyo hotel?

Or, maybe I'm just thinking a little too much. In three days, that'll probably stop. I'm Amsterdam bound.



(I am extremely sad to be leaving all the friends I made in Japan. I can't yet imagine what my life will be like without them, though I've done some wondering.)


Oh, and one more fucking thing! I am so glad that I don't work for Yoshimi machi's BOE anymore, because my boss, Asshat, is a total shithead. I've complained a lot about them, but by far, the worst thing that they had done was taking advantage of S-Lan's generosity, without ever saying thank you. But, Asshat's gone far beyond that. He called S-Lan to tell her to make sure that I personally thanked L-San for all her help this year. ...I haven't even seen that monstrous woman for 10 months, thank God. I really can't believe what an asshole he is. Rather than personally thank S-Lan for doing his job for him this year, helping Nigel and I do our errands and such, he's using her as a tool to translate for him that we need to thank a weird, manipulative basketcase for being so weird and manipulative.

What a shithead.

But, that's literally miles behind me now. In a handful of days, it'll be even further. Whew.

As it turns out, I found the perfect way to commemorate my time here.

Oh God, oh God, oh God...

Tomorrow my brother arrives in Tokyo, which is a clear signal of the end of my life in Japan. Not to say that my brother's visit is a life-ending experience, but rather that my whole life here will cease, in favor of an extended vacation. Which is...probably, a good thing. I left the school for the last time today, deflated of all pomp and ceremony. After the speeches, after the two months of saying goodbye, it ended like it started; Nigel and I chatting about bullshit as we walked to our shitty bikes, to take our customary ride home.

If anything, if I'm able to compute this whole thing at all, it's a minor shift. No doubt liquor helps a bit - I've been drinking a lot lately, as I've been totally stressed out and it helps me to just chillax. In the abstract, I'm able to think about my absence, but ... in a kind of buddhist way, contemplating my absence in a place with so many emotional connections, while possibly a good addition to my quest for enlightenment, breaks my heart a little. In fact, I'm leaving a good teaching position, where I'm helping students achieve their dreams of international connections and international friends in favor of washing dishes in a small town in Indiana.

Ehh. I don't know. By the time my brother comes tomorrow, I'll only be able to think about which karaoke place we're going to next, before we take off for Amsterdam. I'm thankful for that. If I just had my own loneliness as a guide through the memories of the past year, I'd probably be a lot more upset. With a drunk fraternational relation, it's not so bad.

I just had dinner with two nice Japanese people. I'm really going to miss having eccentric Japanese people pay to have dinner with me. I don't imagine that's something that will happen in America often. Though, of course, one never really knows...

Oh God, oh God, oh God...

The Speech

...is finished. One of the final nails in the coffin done away with, I have nothing but time at work for the next three working days. No classes, no responsabilities. Just sitting, all day.

The speech has been hanging over my head for the last 2 months. Speaking to a room full of 800 people is always a little nerve-wracking. The speech itself was probably pretty funny, as it was punctuated with tears that I was probably even-more-hilariously attempting to fight back. Here's the rough version, for posterity's sake.

"I have a dream ... Err ... wait, wrong speech. Good morning everyone. I want to thank you for taking me into your school and making me feel at home. You're all wonderful students and teachers. Thank you. (break for sobbing). When I left my home in America, I left all my family and friends behind, and I was very sad and lonely. I thought that when the time came to go back to America, I would feel like I'm going home. But, I don't. I just feel like I'm leaving home again. (break for sobbing, awakward throat-clearing coughs). This school is my school. Thank you very much."

Of course, now I feel like a tit. Thirty second before the speech and 60 seconds after, I was totally fine, all smiles and laughs. Hell, I even started with a joke, of sorts! But, for whatever reason, I just had to make my final impression on the kids a bearded man in a sharp suit clutching a microphone and speaking in a high-pitched voice in between weeping-noises. Great. My legacy rules.

Tonight is the enkai. And ... I'd like to think that the enkai will go a bit better than today, though I don't know. I have another (drunken) speech to give to all the teachers. And, of course, I'll be saying goodbye to all my friends at school. I hope I don't foul it up by being all weepy.

This is my 100th post. I feel like celebrating, but I don't know how. We've come a long way, honey.

The sunsets have been beautiful for the past few days, which I'm accepting as a consolation for the heat during the day. It's been getting to be the mid-thirties Celsius (dang ... I needed Google to tell me was around 95 degrees Fahrenheit). The period of golden color the hour before sunset seems to go on for two, the mountains on the horizon are silhouetted by the warm-colored sky, and the day's heat is swept away by a slight breeze off of mainland Asia. Today, as I was returning home after work and grocery shopping, the rice fields were an amazing green, stretching into the distance with no breaks, except for one old Japanese farmer, making his way through the rows of rice plants, checking on their progress. I wish I had my damned camera.

In a matter of days, I'm giving my farewell speech to the entire Jr. High. My final day of work will be one day from tomorrow (he said as he drew in a sigh). After Friday's speech and closing ceremony, I'll have one last enkai with my coworkers, which is sure to be a night of debauchery. Food to the max, whiskey to the gills, karaoke til the early hours. It's a wonderful thing when Jr. High teachers cut loose. They're such ... interesting people? I sometimes have wondered what the social grouping of my Jr. High school would look like through these refined eyes. I imagine some things would stay the same. I will be pretty gutted to say goodbye to some of the teachers, though. I really feel like I've made some close connections, and a final night will be hard to take.

But, then again, it's about time. It seems to me that I've been leaving for the last two months, and I'm about ready to have done with the whole thing, and have myself a little vacation to Europe. Fuck yeah. Because, even the little things are just grinding me down. Singing Olivia Newton John's cover version of John Denver's "Take me Home, Country Roads" with the first grade almost always makes me choke up in a weird way. The strange thing is that, early on in my travel, when I was still incredibly homesick, I would sing that song at karaoke and become nostalgic for my parent's patch of dirt back home. And, like most other things, having a chorus of children echoing the sentiment that I'm missing my "home far away," and that hey, I really "should have been home yesterday," can bring a choke in my singing voice. Goddamned children's choirs.

After I leave, I don't know what to do with this blog. It was begun to create a chronicle of my times here, and offer a kind of personal connection to those of you back home who care about my day-to-day (okay, sometimes week-to-week) affairs. And, although it's served me as a really wonderful lens for looking at my life, as well as a nice avenue for a productive writing excercise, it's usefulness is about come to an end. Even though my name has always been a misnomer (I mean, I'm not exactly single, though ... I'm not sure that that's a disqualifier for being "single" ... I am solitary, usually...), the move back home destroys the point of the blog, for all intents and purposes. I think, at most, there will be a few blogs once I get back home. Because, let's face it, I may need to vent about the return to America. Culture Shock is certain to be more severe upon returning home, and my friends can only stand hearing so much.

But, as it is, the sound of my things being packed into boxes sounds the deathknell of Single White Gaijin. ...If I were more intelligent, I would've saved all this for the 100th post. I suppose the 95th will have to do. Thank you, as always, for reading.

Botchan, and a bike in distress

Oh, hello there. I just finished a novel by Natsume Soseki, that he wrote around 1905. It's very famous in Japan, and is maybe a story akin to America's the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. It was gifted to me through my good friend Zensho, and it was so good that I devoured it in two days. But, that's not surprising. I knew that I would get into it, as Japanese literature is almost always amazing (if you don't believe me, read Haruki Murakami).

What was surprising is that the book captures perfectly a lot of my experience in Japan, despite what I would assume to be a huge cultural rift, as well as a hundred years seperating Botchan's story from my own. The basic story is this, a young (23 year old!) Botchan gets out of university at the dawn of the 20th century, and becomes a teacher in a far-off prefecture do to a lack of serious life-planning. A page out of my own life, only the prefecture was a bit farther for me than Botchan. Even though the young protagonist speaks Japanese, the dialect of the new prefecture is so strong that there are often communication problems. Additionally, the fast-talking Tokyoite Botchan has a completely different notion of how to go about doing things than the backwater staff and students, and is constantly seen as rude or pushy, which is a common problem for foeigners in Japan. We're used to straight talking, and clear directions from our bosses, which in Japan is avoided as it seems pushy. Additionally, there's one other young teacher that becomes his confidante and happens to be the only person he can speak freely with. This young character corresponds to Nigel in my situation.

It even has a situation wherein the shithead, crafty, pansy boss is lying and sneaking his way into forcing a teacher to leave. Basically it boils down to the two against the crafty boss, with a lot of parallels to my situation over the last year.

I guess it's just interesting that, in fiction, you can find something so far removed from your life in general that can still apply. Finding this novel at the end of my trip has really mellowed me out about my impending return. It's kind of given me a little space to appreciate the my situation in an abstract scenario, which is pretty excellent.


Additionally, riding home from work today I was thinking about my mama-cherry, which is rapidly deteriorating, and how it can stand as a metaphor for my experience in Japan. Basically, my bike has just been breaking one piece at a time over the months, keeping pace with my slackening desire to keep teaching. Although, I sometimes wonder if I'm not making a mistake coming back to the states after only one year, I've lately found that the Jr. High classrooms can be kind of uncomfortable ... just like my bike. Additionally, the other day, something just snapped; in my bike's case, it was one of the rear spokes. In my personal case, it's the realization that my brother Joe will be in Japan in less than two weeks, which kicks off the start of the European Tour. As a result, I've totally lost it at school; full of jokes and enjoyment, and a total loss of professional spirit. In fact, yesterday, I was kicking off a class with a song, as we usually do. It was a song from Aladdin, "A Whole New World." I was with one of my favorite teachers, and I just ... kind of lost it. I told him "You be Jasmine, I'll be Aladdin! Let's do this!" and jumped on a desk and began to serenade the 45 year-old teacher in front of a bunch of bewildered students.

After we were through (with gestures!), one student looked around and began to clap. I totally got a slow clap, although I did instigate it a bit. As the student looked around, I just said "No, no, no. It's totally okay to clap. We're amazing. That was amazing, really. We're excellent," and much to everyone's surprise, it started the whole class off.

Man, my life is just ... not gonna be weird enough for me when I get back home.

Ohisashiburi ne!

"Ohisashiburi ne" means something like "Long time, no see," which is in itself a calque from Chinese (perhaps the two are related, I'm unsure...). In any case, I'm trying to say that it's been a while since I took the time to update my blog. I wish that I had some cool excuse that didn't reflect poorly on me. But, the truth of the matter is that, in addition to being a little busy figuring out packing and traveling and all that mess, in my spare time, I've been playing games for my Nintendo DS. I bought a few of them just before my birthday, as sort of a birthday gift to myself. Needless to say, if I was planning on being productive, I took the wrong approach.

So, besides conquering continents from my adversaries in Sid Meier's Civilization: Revolutions, what have I been doing? Well, for one thing, I've totally finished my elementary school days. But, I know how tedious it can be to re-read what appears to be the same stories over and over again. Trust me, it can be even more tiring to live them over and over. My last day ever, not only did I not shed a single tear, but I managed to get a couple of laughs out of the teaching staff with a little banter. Which, I suppose proves to me that I'm ready to leave. I've had six practice goes, and in less than two weeks, I give me farewell speech to the whole of the Jr. High School, by far the most trying ordeal. I really feel quite close to the teachers at the Jr. High, and it will be seriously tough to hold it together on that day. But, I knew it was coming the moment I arrived, and there's nothing to be gained by pretending that I didn't. So, there's that.

Additionally, I've got a definite move-out date for my apartment. Though, per usual, Asshat and the BOE are being total turds about everything. I am totally not surprised, and I don't imagine that, if you've read more than two blog entries, you are either. Basically, although I'm paying rent on my apartment until July 31st, I have to vacate by July 26th, because that's when my contract ends. It doesn't matter that my apartment will just lie empty for a few weeks before the next guy comes (because they're quitting the program that brought me over and entering into a contract with a new company, the next ALT won't arrive until mid-August). Basically, I guess it's an only slightly veiled admission that the sooner they can get me out of town, the better. But, I'm beyond caring too much. I just want to be finished with the whole thing, and I'll be happy if I never have to see hide or hair of Asshat ever again. Here's hoping.

Speaking of the next ALT, though, I heard some miserable news. In their infinite wisdom, my rural town has decided that the two new ALTs will occupy two totally different jobs: one going to the Jr. High every day (excellent), and the other going to a different elementary school every day of the week (horrifying). I really feel so bad for whoever is stepping into those shoes, to be sure, especially if they're fresh from their foreign country, like I was when I arrived. I don't want to sound dismissive or shitty, but I think the BOE has a lot more on their hands than they'd intended, because I can't imagine that anyone could handle such a tough job day-in, day-out, without any serious help from the BOE. But, we'll see.

Last week, I stopped off for some okinomiyaki, an omletteish, pizzaish Japanese food, with a new acquaintance and his friends. First, let me tell you how I met the guy. I went to onsen with my friends, a week ago last Friday. You may remember onsen from Gaijin Adventure #89, The Case of the Bubbling Foot Bath. In any case, I was sitting naked in a pool of hot water, and another foreigner sits down near me, and I start just shooting the shit with him for a minute. It turns out, he's french and he works for a french company near where I live. Cool enough. And when I'm ready to rinse off and get dressed again, I say goodbye and figure that I'll never see him again. Only, the next day as I'm standing on a train platform to catch a train from Higashi Matsuyama, I see him waiting for his train. So, we have a laugh about how coincidental the whole thing is, shake hands and jokingly say that we'll see each other later. And the next day at lunch, I walk into a restaurant with my friends and see the same guy eating lunch with his co-workers.

So, I figured, hey, fate is fate. Every time you meet someone, it's like you get this chance, and you don't know what it's for, but it's a certain kind of chance. To make a friend or an enemy, learn something new, tell an old joke, whatever. And in the course of 48 hours, I had rejected two chances, so I decided fair is fair, he introduced me to his friends and we agreed to meet for dinner the next week. One of the coolest things is that one of his friends is Moroccan born, and speaks arabic. So, when I met her, she told me her name was Aziza, and I told her that's a wonderful Arabic name. I asked her in Aabic if she could speak it, and we had a little conversation in Arabic! It's been a long time for me to use Arabic, and I don't imagine I'd find many other opportunities to do so in Japan.

So, I was eating Japanese food, speaking Arabic with someone while the whole rest of the table was speaking in French. And, in a really awesome way, it's moments like that that make me realize how wonderful my whole last year has been. Because it wasn't just a door to Japanese culture, and it wasn't just a reflection on my own upbringing (though I obviously did my best to analyze and understand both), but rather it was a kind of awakening to world culture; meeting people from everywhere who all congregate together around one of the world capitals, Tokyo.

I don't know. It was just really nice. Anyway, I guarantee that I'll write at least 100 blogs. So, that leaves only 3 or 4 more, I think. Of course, I could always write more....

The one where I'm a little drunk.

Hey, all. I'm a bit drunk, which should do to explain all the spelling and grammatical errors.

Today was a pretty tai-hen day (which means it was difficult). I went to Nishi-Sho with my helper-friend, S-Lan. We taught the hell out of some kids (five lessons straight!), but it just tuckered me out. The worst part is that, although this is my last week of regular elementary classes, Nishi-Sho went ahead and scheduled me for an appearance next week; which is, in short, a dick move.

After finishing today, I had another turd-sandwich to swallow; a meeting with Mr. Asshat himself. I needed to discuss my air tickets home (which of course, have nothing to do with the BOE). Despite describing my position to multiple important persons at the Jr. High School, somehow, the whole thing needed to be settled by a round-table discussion. Which wasn't, by far, the highlight of the meeting.

Nigel, despite wanting to stay in Yoshimi (past his JET term) until next April, is being refused entry to the schools of Yoshimi. Which makes about zero sense. Basically, the BOE wants an ALT who is fluent in Japanese (Nigel is), who understands what is required of him as a teacher (Nigel does), and who poses as few problems as possible for the completely incompetent directing crew at the BOE (Nigel hasn't asked them for a thing for years). So. basically, they're asking for Nigel, only not Nigel. And, because of this bizarre understanding of the universe, they are willing to put Nigel through a legitimately hellish set of trails (Visa problems as an "instructor", a new apartment, a job search which is disrupted from the average teaching year, etc.). It makes about zero goddamn sense.

And also, true to form, my boss is a total asshole to me, as well. Instead of staying in my apartment until July 31st (which I have to pay rent for), I have to evacuate on the 26th, because of contractual limitations which make about as much sense as a fucking screen-door submarine. Needless to say, I was pretty upset at the whole thing, as it forces me to find temporary lodging for my brother and I for a week in Japan (which I naively assumed would be taken care of).

In any case, after such a meeting, I needed a little drink. I went to the yakitoriya nearby my house, and ordered dinner and a beer. While I was eating and drinking, I began to converse with the old men around me, and began to really hit it off. But, it was a serious mistake to reveal that my birthday was tomorrow. The guy next to me, an old retired gentlman, kept buying me beers, and refusing to take no for an answer. The female yakitoriya owner brought out a cheesecake, put a candle in it, and proceeded to get the whole place to sing "Happy Birthday" in English for me. I have to say that it's one of those memories that will always stay with me; a whole room of foreign people, mostly men, singing in a foreign language just because of something which involves me that I can't help.

I was deeply touched.

And so, my deadline is not only approaching, it is continually racing closer and closer to the present. It's a compounding effect, which can't continue on. I'm losing almost a whole week of time in Japan because of some shit-silly decision by my boss. That's a loss that I suppose I can forgive, but I'm not willing to give any more. Every single day has become a kind of adventure to me, like it was at the beginning. I'm starting to see things through the lens of "the last," which is probably not a good sign. In the same way that experience "The Last Day" over and over again at the elementary schools has begun to dull my experience of the last last, so my experience of life in Japan is beginning to experience such troubles. I'm doing my best to keep them at bay, and enjoy the little things that Japan has yet to give me.

Please, wish me luck.

Happy Birthday to Me.

This is the last full week of elementary school schedule. And, although all my latest posts (when I've found the time to make them) are ostensibly all about the same thing, the evidence just keeps stacking up - I'm on my way out of here.

That said, I am totally overjoyed to be finishing up elementary schools. Sure, it's sad to have to say goodbye alot, but I'm beginning to feel like the time is right. Part of that is because I've already gone ahead and purchased my plane tickets for my return journey home, which I am incredibly pumped about. For starters, my brother Joe is coming to visit Japan for a week or so before we both hop on a plane out of Tokyo, headed for Europe. It's my virgin trip to Europe, but it seems like an excellent way to finish up what will certainly be remembered as "My Asian Year" ... that is until I opt to have another.

Somehow buying the plane ticket has made everything real and concrete; now I have a definite way home, a definite route with real times, an actual travel companion, etc. So, here I am. Rather than playing with an amorphous and uncertain plan, I've now got deadlines and a real sense of immediacy. I don't suppose I need to tell you how excited I am for this trip - Joe's my oldest friend as well as my brother, and I can't wait to share this trip with him, just the two of us. He's never left the US before, I think, and I'm really pumped to see his reaction to traveling in general. The first stop: Amsterdam. I've always wanted to go, and I'm more pumped about seeing a beautiful canal-city than any of the other stops we have planned.

That said, nothing can exactly be easy when I'm dealing with the Board of Education. Although I've taken the initiative to buy my own ticket - and made it abundantly clear that I am turning down the direct ticket from Narita to O' Hare that my BOE owes me, in favor of taking a pleasure trip, I still have to physically state my case to one of my least favorite people - Asshat. I honestly feel that I might incur some displeasure for deciding to take my return journey into my own hands. But, so it goes.

My birthday is on Wednesday. It's kind of weird to have a birthday away from home. I mean, as it is, I have made some really great friends, and I'm kind of excited to just go out for dinner and drinks with them, and just kind of enjoy what this birthday has to offer - a little different from previous years. But, the whole year's been like that.

Oh yeah! I forgot to mention! I was supposed to spend my birthday with the principal of one of the elementary schools - which I mentioned in "The Gaijin Files: The Case of the Energy Supplement". Well, he totally cancelled. ...In a really awkward way. He came to my house last Thursday, knocked on the door while I was talking to my brother in the states, and before I could answer, he opened the door. And I told him to hold on a minute, finished up my conversation, and ran outside, whereupon he told me in broken English "Your birthday ... My house ... No. No." So, I said "Some other place?" And he said "You ... me ... your birthday ... no." So, I asked in Japanese if he had become busy, or had other plans, and even in Japanese, he basically just said it was cancelled.

In a way, I'm really disappointed. Because, spending a Wednesday night getting Japanese-drunk with a boss who speaks very little English would at least be an interesting way to celebrate my 23rd birthday. But ... then again, on the other hand, it's probably for the best. I mean, I can't imagine things would just proceed totally smoothly all night - he hardly speaks a word of English, and my (drunk) Japanese is not good enough to carry an hours-long conversation covering topics that the sober mind shrinks from considering.

In any case, I've got a nice group of friends, a nice little city, a nice little bar, and a nice little life. And I couldn't ask for any more than that.

Monkey Warning.

Yesterday was weird. For a few reasons. It was my last day at one of my favorite schools; Kita-Sho. The staff are all so nice, and extremely helpful. For instance, they always give me their BEST coffee cup. Which is such a small thing, but so nice. And snacks and help photocopying stuff. Also, the staff are always trying to learn English from me, and speak the English the know. It's just a wonderful place. Everyone felt really human, and I felt like I had made friends with some of the teachers, and actually managed to have a kind of friendly connection. A far cry from where I taught today.

I had a very easy time finishing up work today. I won't name the school, because there's no need to identify a school I won't miss too much. Today was horrible, though. I am overjoyed that I never have to attempt to teach either of the 5th grade classes ever again. Honestly, I don't think I've ever been so frustrated/straight-up-angry with children before. The worst thing is that they just don't understand you, so if you lose it and shout, they'll just mock you. So, I took some deep breaths and just reminded myself that while I am a super-cool, suave, funny, handsome and intelligent world-traveller, the kid who was screaming "I DON'T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE" while punching kids at random is just a 10 year old who is so caught up in sugar rushes and Pokemons that he can't focus on anything, besides trying to touch my penis, for more than 10 minutes at a time.

But ... it was also weird because ... today, we had a monkey warning at lunch.

Yeah. A monkey WARNING. For those not in the know, that means that there was a monkey, somewhere, on the loose. The principal had to walk around the school to make sure the kids could go out for recess. ...Because of a wild monkey. Honestly, what the fuck, Japan?

Hurrah!

...For playing hooky. It's been a common occurrence lately. And I am not complaining. In fact, I am personally recommending it to you. Do yourself a favor; call in sick tomorrow and sleep in.

Last week, I called in sick on Monday and enjoyed my personal day at home - did laundry, prepped some things for moving, read a bit, and just generally took care of myself. It was great. Then I had my last day at Minami-Sho, as I told you in my last entry (Which, as Nicky J. did the public service of noting, was MUCH too whiny. As usual, Nicky J. is correct.). So, this week, when my usual elementary-day Tuesday rolled around, guess which school didn't need me to come? ...And guess which Jr. High assumed that I'd be at an elementary school?

I feel crafty about laying low today. In a way, I feel like my American work ethic is something I should seek to correct, rather than privately rejoice in. But, honestly, what's a gaijin to do? Today, if I went to the Jr High, I wouldn't have any classes scheduled, and due to some sports festival that's going on, I'd just sit at my desk reading all day. So, I didn't call it in. I didn't talk to nobody. Just sleeping late, and hoping no one will notice. ...And they so totally haven't! Score.

Additionally, I had ordered boxes for moving home, and they were delivered today! So, if I felt a little guilty about opting out of work today, there goes all the guilt! I was productive! The weird thing about the boxes is that they were in centimeters when I ordered them online. And, I don't know a damn thing about centimeters, despite my living in Japan for a year. I even converted to inches! And...somehow I ordered too many boxes that are way too big! ...I ordered six boxes. And, if I were crafty, I could fit everything I own into one of them. It's like 2 feet by a foot and a half by a foot and a half, or something.

Mo' boxes, mo' problems.

Lessons Learned (So Far); Or, The Beginning of the End.

Today, I taught at one of my favorite schools - Minami Sho. The school used to be five-classes a day, everyday. But, as I mentioned before, the enforcer of this class limit is preggo, and enjoying her maternity leave - leaving me in a sweet position. Well, at least until today. After I taught my classes (All of which, I will have you know, I fucking ruled at! The 5th graders were so unenthusiastic, but by the end of the class, I had them eating out of my hand, begging to speak English.), I consulted a schedule only to find that today was my last day at Minami Sho. Ever.

I'm not sure if it's for worse or for best that the students didn't know it was the last time they'd ever see me. I mean, if I knew it was my last time to teach them, I'm not sure what I could've done differently - their grasp of English doesn't permit me to express myself, my limitations in Japanese would offer the same issues. And all that besides, what could I possibly say in class? I was brought to do a job, and I've done it as well as I can, and I've grown to love a lot of the people who were with me through the whole damn thing, and whether or not they know how much I've come to rely on their occasional presence doesn't really matter. All the laughs and discomforts and everything else is all rolled up into a big, retrospective memory. Slapping a melodramatic seal on the end of it won't make the whole thing worthwhile, I don't suppose. But, still, as I wrapped up my lesson with the 6th graders, I told them we'd do the second half of an activity "next time." I feel bad for misleading them.

As the students didn't know I was leaving, they all filed out of school as on any other day, at a time which usually finds me gulping down hot coffee, staring out the window, totally drained. This time, I stood in the hallway, as the children rushed past me, hurrying off to their afternoon playtime. As they ran past, they exchanged what appear to be fairly feeble parting words: "See you!", "Bye-bye!", etc. I waved, high-fived and saluted them. Sometimes, it's horrible to know more than other people, to be "let in" on a secret that affects everyone. I sure hope that they remember me. Perhaps years down the line, only as "hige-sensei" (beard-sensei). Perhaps not at all. Still, I'm happy to have given them the tools to say goodbye to me at all, showed them how to sharpen them and use them. Because of the limitations, to me, "see you" has almost the same ring as a more definite and serious word of parting. I wonder how I'll remember the whole thing in five year's time.

The teachers were all exceedingly kind to me, when they discovered it was my last day. They printed pictures of the students for me, made me a thank-you card, personally said goodbye to me, and ushered me out. I am sorry to say that after my first handshake, I was totally overcome with weeping. I never used to cry at such events, but ... I'm just so bad at saying goodbye. I often wish that I couldn't tell the gravity of an event until it's already past - that way I stay myself, don't muck anything up by being emotional, and I have a memory of my "last -----" to reflect on years down the road. I managed to mutter a tearful "Hontoni, arigatou gozaimashita" (honestly, thank you very much) as I slipped out of the teacher's room. One of the young male teachers who I've had a great teaching rapport with followed me outside after I'd collected myself, and told me "You always ... had the kids ... excited. And they liked English because they liked you. You are ... a good teacher. One day, I know ... you will become a great man." I managed to keep it together, after that. But just barely.

I'm just a little shocked. This is how it all ends, the whole Japanese adventure. Not with a quick edit from Tokyo to Chicago, not in a clean-break of a single "last," but this slow, creeping realization. The first tally mark in the reckoning of the great sadness that lies in growing to know a whole community of people, and having to say goodbye over and over, 1,000 times. When I lay it out in the abstract, it just breaks my heart. I know I can have the strength to say goodbye, because I had the strength to come here, and had the strength to say goodbye to the only home I had previously known. It's just hard to adopt a new place and watch it all slip away. One thing is certain, however; the fullness of my heart is sure to exceed the limitations of my vocabulary in this strange and foreign land. And unfortunately, it'll be difficult to explain myself with a smile this time.

The one where I went to Onsen, among other things.

This last week flew by, as they seem to be doing with startling speed, which is giving me a bit of anxiety - I still haven't started packing, I still haven't planned my return trip home, etc. The extra elementary school day, paired with some of the worst classes I've taught in the last 10 months spread over the extended week had left me totally drained (despite the assistance of TioVita).

Despite having to go to my least favorite school on Friday to teach some monitored classes, I had a pretty alright day. Except for the last class. 4th grade. One girl was crying. All class. There was a mentally handicapped boy, without an attendant, stealing my cards and knocking stuff on the ground for the whole period. There were six boys who refused to so much as look at me, and just kept pushing each other around and making fun of the special kid. The Home Room Teacher was doing his best to just get the girl to stop crying. I shouted over the din and chaos - but all to little or no avail.

And despite all that, I was still having an alright day. Teaching with S-Lan is always a bit more enjoyable than trying to manage alone. At least she can translate what I say to the kids/teachers. Plus, she's fine company.

But, after teaching classes, I ran into my "boss" (hereafter referred to as "Asshat") in the hallway, and he totally pissed me off. He initially told me that I did a good job and such, but when I was leaving to return to the Jr. High (a recent habit adopted by Nigel and I, as we're sick of sitting around at the elementary schools, twiddling our fingers. I shit you not when I tell you that the school I taught at on Friday, literally puts us in our own room, totally segregated from the "real" teachers. To just sit. The other schools aren't any better. A school near my house puts us in the teachers room, nice enough, but puts us in the middle of an aisle, so we're constantly moving out of everyone's way all day while we're twiddling our fingers. We started heading out after our last class, unless a teacher asks to talk about a lesson plan or something, because unlike the elementary schools, we have our own desks and work to do at the Jr. High. Anyway...), Asshat stopped me in the hallway to kind of talk me down for leaving the elementary school. And, guess what? It's some kind of decree now that I'm not to leave any of the elementary schools after classes, but I have to just sit at my desk and watch the clock until 4.30. There is not a shred of reason in it, not a shred of efficiency, nothing. I'm totally perplexed. And to be frank, whether or not I do what my boss tells me is entirely up to how I'm feeling on that particular day. I hate to sound so petulant, but I'm just so sick of this guy, it's silly.

Anyway, immediately after school on Friday, I caught the first bus to a nearby town, where I caught the first train available, to catch the second bus available to my friend Geoff's house for his birthday. I had a pretty good time, and got to talk about werewolves, ghosts, and the impending digital takeover of the world order. Not a bad night, all in all. Geoff's a really nice guy, and though he's a Kiwi, he studied U.S. government in college and is incredibly knowledgable. I'm usually in awe of his understanding. I'll be bummed out when we part ways, to be sure.

And then, Saturday morning (after a full night of mosquitos attacking me), I headed out with my friends Laura, Brian, and Dave to Gunma-ken to onsen. Onsen, for those not in the know, is an awesome part of Japanese culture - Ritualized group bathing in hot mineral springs. And I know exactly what you're thinking, because I was there once myself. You're thinking "Wait. Group bathing. As in ... naked ... with a bunch of other people?" Yeah, dude. Get over it, you prude.

I was really shocked how, once in the environment of onsen, it didn't feel weird at all to bare all to friends and new acquaintances. I mean, the most awkward thing was the myriad of bug bites I had received the day before. No one wants to look like they have chicken pox in a big ol' pot of people soup. Honestly, I don't think I've ever been so clean in my whole life, though. You can't just jump into the hot springs before seriously scrubbing yourself down. On Saturday alone, because of a shower in the morning and multiple trips to the pools, I took five showers and clocked over two hours in a bath.

I can't recommend it highly enough. I felt like a baby - all my muscles were too weak to do anything but chill out. The resort gave us stylish yukata to wear around the hotel, as well. Extremely stylish and comfortable.

So, going to sleep on Saturday night felt like being a baby, wrapped in nice cloth, relinquishing my grip on consciousness one finger at a time, rolling the moment around in my head a while before finally giving in. Needless to say, I feel like a new man, and almost all memories of last week have been wiped clean away (which makes it really hard to write a retrospective entry about them, by the way).

Despite all, I still may take a personal day tomorrow. Get some personal time in, sleep in, clean my shower, do laundry, pay bills, go shopping, etc. It all just depends on how I feel in the morning. I'll be sure to tell you the result.