around

I visited my friends in Hanawa, Fukushima this weekend and on my way home this afternoon I started crying happy tears. There's a line in the movie Eat, Pray, Love where Julia Roberts' character says, "I want to marvel  at something." I spent my drive home from Fukushima marveling at the mountains. Being from Ohio, any kind of landscape elevation tends to evoke awe from me. But these mountains are in Japan. I'm living, working, and driving in Japan. This is a place I never even dreamed of getting because it never seemed truly feasible. I don't consider the rest of my life downhill from  this, because there are plenty of other things I can work toward (that cute house in the country, for example, with chickens in the yard; having a pet cat or dog; publishing a book; vacationing in Hawaii; eating pasta in Italy), but I've never felt like I needed multiple incredible things to happen in my life; I've only ever needed one. Taiwan was my catalyst. Japa...

Due to not wanting to spend precious money on new, nice running shoes (and due to a muscle strain I suffered about a month ago) I've taken up Pilates. I am amazed how much of a workout a person can get without moving from the same three-square-foot space. Seriously, 30 minutes every other day and my abs haven't looked this good in years. The one problem I'm having with this is that, based on my thigh development in Taiwan, I assumed the same may happen here in Japan, so I bought jeans with stretchy waists. Now I may need belts. Whoops! I went shopping the other day and I am continuing to enjoy Japan's love of random English on t-shirts. Like, I adore it. My new goal is to collect several nonsense-English shirts that I can wear both here and in the US. Currently I have this gem, which is super-patriotic but also super-nonsensical. Day after day, I witness a parade of nonsense English on my students' clothes. My kids' t-shirts will proclaim "Carolina...

A the end of May, I was invited by my Koya school co-workers to what they called "girls night" on June 20th. Since I had such a good time at the Koya enkai , I was happy to attend. I didn't know what it would entail, though, since "girls night" can mean "crazy party" in English. Turns out it was just like the Koya enkai, but with just the ladies. Koya knows how to party: fancily. The party was at a restaurant called Carrot's, which had a picture of a charging bull beneath the name. Our group was given a special back room set apart from the rest of the restaurant, which featured long, short tables, tatami mat, lots of wood paneling, and flat cushions to sit on. (This morning, my knees are protesting a little the amount of time I spent sitting Japanese-style with my legs folded under me.) When I entered the room, I was asked to select a ticket from a bag. The ticket had a picture of a flower on it, and whichever spot had that flower, that was whe...

Where have I been? What have I been up to? Who cares, I'm back, and I'm here to tell you about spicy food in Japan. Now, I haven't been to every restaurant in Japan, nor have I tried every food the country has to offer. Based on some observations and what I've been told, however, I'm starting to think spicy food ( actual  spicy food) is a mostly foreign concept in Japan. Last week, for lunch, my kids and I were served curry. As the third graders at my table tucked in, I noticed that the girl in the corner kept fanning her mouth after every bite. I thought, "Oh, the food is still too hot." But then the girl to my right began fanning her mouth as well, and since she knew the word in English for it, she explained to me, "Spicy!" I was flabberghasted. Yes, the curry had a spice factor. But most Americans would consider it mild. These kids were acting like it was a few steps up from mild. They were drinking milk after almost every bite. I finish...

I'm going to level with everyone reading this, as well as myself: I fucking miss  Taipei. I don't miss my boss, but I miss Taipei like whoa . I miss the MRT. I miss the buses. I miss the food, the fashion, the insanity of cars and scooters in the streets. I miss street performers in Ximen and fruit for sale in the markets of Xinzhuang. I miss the adorable cafes of Da'an and the walls of accessories in the shops of Shida Night Market. I miss Coda cafe with its expensive food and walls of used books for sale. I miss the incredible graffiti on the walls of Ximen side streets, the bike trails of Danshui, the shaved ice on hot nights and bowls of noodles in an unknown orange broth in a cramped Thai restaurant in Gongguan. I miss getting hideously lost in Wu-Fen-Pu but being amazed by the fashion there none-the-less. I miss the tea. I miss the endless wifi. I miss the cafe culture, where you could hang around practically anywhere  using the cafe's wifi as long as you kept b...

The wind is blasting through Hitachinaka and rustling the trees outside my window. Meanwhile the sun is burning itself out on the Western horizon, sending streaks of gold and neon red across my floor just before it dies away. Some kids bike by and shout to each other, Japanese words I can't understand but the sound of carefree kids is universal. It's Friday. Tomorrow I'll be up at 6:40am to dress, eat, and walk to Sano Elementary School by 7:30, when they'll begin preparations for Sports Festival. It promises to be a long Saturday. For now, though, both windows in my apartment are open, the overcast sky is fading to purple and blue, and cool wind smelling of the earlier passing storm is wafting into my bedroom. It's the kind of evening that makes me want to fall asleep early, and after a week of teaching, it's no wonder I'm tired. The week was good, though. Not great, but not bad. Monday's school is full of students who are allergic to listening, but T...

On my first day of teaching, I played a game with some of my classes that is called "Wolf," but I renamed it "Gojira" (Godzilla) to make it a bit more culturally accessible. The game has Gojira (me) "sleeping," while the students call out a question, such as "What's your name?". If I give the key answer ("My name is Gojira!" and not, say, "My name is Pikachu."), I pretend to chase a few lucky students back to their seats. If I catch them, I get a point. If I don't catch them, the students (as a group) get a point. I'm explaining this to you so you understand who "Gojira" is in the context of this update. Gojira is me. And every day, after chasing around kids, Gojira is very hungry. I have two burners in my little "kitchen" area, plus a sink, some shelves, and a cabinet the size of a shoebox. This is my space. Still, it's infinitely more cooking room and appliances than I had in Taiwan. I...