Diary
April-June 2000
Topics: New Kids on the Block (04/10/00); Earth Day! (04/22/00); Mr. Collins, This is Golden Week! (05/10/00); Fly Away Home (05/25/00); Kobe: City of Dreams! (06/04/00); Ma, lock up the children! The Monsoon's a comin' (06/09/00); Little Lost Kittens (06/10/00); Tripping (06/15/00); Snake! (06/16/00); Regular Dose of Radiation (06/22/00); Suigo (06/24/00); Cream Puffs? (06/28/00); Snake! [update] (06/29/00); Quote of the Day (06/30/00).
New Kids on the Block
04/10/00
New Teachers. New students. They've all arrived and it seems
like they're already more at home than I am. I've been here for 8
months and they've been here for less than 8 days. Ugh!
I guess the teachers are just used to it, and the new first-year
students have been prepped for junior high school life since the
day they entered elementary school. Junior high school really
does seem to be the first true manifestation of Japanese
regementation. It's the first time uniforms are required.
Students must all fit rigid guidelines in terms of attire and
physical appearance, and become part of a strong united body
(e.g. homeroom, grade, club activity...). Elementary school seems
like the trial period for much of this. The students go through
the motions, try out the requirements, but go about it all in a
much more relaxed attitude.
April is also the time for personnel changes. Folks all over
the country get transferred to other institutions, and there is
very little they can do about it. The bosses look at all of the
employees and determine who is a likely candidate for tranfer.
They approach these candidates and ask them if they are opposed
to being transferred. Very rarely does a Japanese employee object
to the transfer because it is the will of the institution and
those in authority. It seems that very few employees have more
than a month to prepare for the transfer, and luckily, most
transfers are within the region. At our school, the transfers
were made public the week they were to happen. The actual
employees to be transferred had a 'bit' longer to prepare for
their move.
This year four teachers from our school were transferred and one
woman retired after serving the school for what seemed like a
legendary tenure. This is also rare considering that most
teachers rarely stay at one school for more than seven years. One
woman being transferred had worked at the junior high school for
9 years! Five new teachers entered the school. They were all from
schools in neighboring municipalities. None of them specialized
in English, so no one replaced the English teacher that we lost.
Oh well...
In all, April is a turbulant month... transfers, new beginnings... But it's also the time of cherry blossoms and things that are sweet.
Earth Day!
04/22/00
Today was a SMASHING success. Check out the EARTH DAY feature on the Back in Japan page for more info.
Mr. Collins, This is Golden Week!
05/10/00
Andrew Kent Collins of Buffalo Heights, Virginia came to visit me for "Golden Week 2000". He is just about my closest friend from high school. It is just about Japan's most popular tourist season. Together, they combined to create a turbulent, emotional, exhausting, and fun-filled two weeks in late April and early May. "Golden Week" is the name given to the period from April 29 to May 5, which is filled with holidays, vacations, bargain sales, festivals, and various forms of excess. From the minute I met Andrew at Narita International Airport on April 28, the eve of Greenery Day (the current name for the former Emperor Showa's birthday) the first of Golden Week's four National holidays, we set out on an exhaustive look at Japanese culture and history... through its signature city of modernity and chaos (Tokyo) to its cultural and traditional heartland (Kyoto and Kansai). I could talk forever about this trip, but I'll touch on some highlights.
Koya-san... This is the sacred mountain in Wakayama Prefecture, south of Kyoto and Osaka. It's convenient to the splendors of Kansai, and the big cities of the Inland Sea, but it is also remote and picturesque. It is the center of Shingon Buddhism, the school founded by Kukai, the monk who is attributed to developing the Japanese phonetic syllabary, or hiragana. After his death, Kukai was named Kobo Daishi and interred atop Mt. Koya. Yearly, thousands of pilgrims ascend the mountain to visit its temples and monastaries, pray at graves, and to stand before the great masoleum of Kobo Daishi. It's a stunning site, and the mountain is covered with nice temples which gladly offer accomodations. Andrew and were both expecting something a little more rustic and simple... something more akin to the western idea of Buddhist simplicity. But then again, we were at a Shingon mountain and not a Zen mountain (Ah the differences in religious deomoninations). Koya-san was a fully functionaing town atop a remote mountain. It has schools, fire and police departments, stores, restaurants... You name it! It even has a public bus system. There are more secluded temple complexes in Japan, so next time Andrew comes, we'll go searching for some of them.
Sumo... Andrew was thrilled when we got tickets. And despite the annoying group of Kiwi high school boys that surrounded us, and the crichety American who tried to shush us, I think we both had a good time. We saw a very nice day of the Third Grand Sumo tournament of the year, and the first since the forced retirement of Grand Champion Wakanohana. There were exciting matches, spectacle, splendor, controversy... and a bunch of big guys in elaborate silk loincloths.
Himeji-jo... This is one of my favorite places in Japan. It is the famed White Heron castle that is perched atop a hill in the middle of a city by the Inland Sea. It commands the city, and, unlike the larger castles at Nagoya and Kumamoto, it is still in its original condition. Nagoya, an official imperial residence and the largest of all Japanese castles, was firebombed. Kumamoto, a deadly samurai war citadel that saw the defeat of the Shogun's army at the hands of Imperial loyalists, burnt down. Himeji has lasted and after undergoing serious rennovations, is now the more intact and pristine castle in all of Japan, a model of architecture, and a UNESCO World Heritage Landmark. Andrew and I spent a nice afternoon wandering the castle grounds, and gawking at the wonder of the building.
We accomplished so much more during Golden Week. We witnessed festivals, captured glimpses of geisha, met fascinating and provocative people, tasted wondrous culinary delights, from Koya-san vegetarian Todu and pickles dishes to delicately fired meats and vegetables in Gion, Kyoto. It was an incredible two weeks, and I'm just sorry I don't havw the time or space to go into all of the details.
Fly Away Home
05/24/00
No this isn't some cheesy Anna Paquin flick about teaching baby geese to fly. It's a tale of my trip on a big, over-crowded plane.
I had been in Japan 8 months, and
knew it would be another 8 months until I was planning to see my
family at Christmas. Reaching the fine mid-way point in my
adventures in the 'exotic east' (and a trucking and farming town
in industrialized, radioactive Japan sure is exotic for ya!), I
had decided to hop on a plane and venture back to the good ol'
USofA. My friend Andrew, had been over to visit me, so I wanted
to fly back on the same flight. I was all excited about being
able to sit on the 13-hour flight with one of my best friends. We
got to the airport two hours before the flight was to start
boarding. Little did we know that that would not be good enough
here in Japan (where folks often get up at 5:00 when they stay in
hotels and youth hostels). By the time we got to the desk, only
single aisle seats were left. This is of course due to the fact
that flights to and from Japan are monopolized by young Japanese
couples... cute little university kids who dress alike, act
alike, and do everything together. Each window on the plane was
occupied by the female of the couple. The seats next to them we
occupied by their colo-coordinated boyfriends, offering a
shoulder to sleep on and a buffer zone between them and the big,
scary foreigners taking up the aisles. Andrew ended up sitting
directly behind me with a couple of his very own.
On both of my flights, the couples were amazing. The girls all
wore 'cute' little t-shirts and skirts in various shades of blue
and pink. Denim was quite popular as well. Their hair was
perfectly styled. Their make-up was neatly applied, accentuating
their features, but keeping them 'cute', a term which defines the
Japanese ideal of attractiveness. Girls strive to be 'cute',
accentuating their youth and innocence, and not 'beautiful' (at
least not in the Western sense of the word).
The guys tended to have on a small-sized, second hand, print
t-shirts, formerly donned by some mid-western little league
baseball team, or printed up at one of the finer main street
monogramming stores in Kokomo, IN, Texarkana, AR, or Peoria, IL.
Most guys also had the same kind of trendy hat, the rim of which
hung at just the same angle over all of their eyes.
These youngsters had EVERY possible travel accutrament known to
mankind (obviosuly strongly recommended, and sold, by the travel
agency that arranged their tour package). They had slippers, eye
shades, eye drops, wet-naps, inflatable neck-bracing pillows,
blankets, ear plugs... and all of them matched. I was surrounded
by Snoopy, Hello Kitty, TarePanda, and Pooh-san (Wiinie the
Pooh).
I rarely saw the young couples deviate. On both flights, the cute
little lovebirds beside me consistently ordered the same drinks
and ate the same meals. When one did deviate, there was
discussion and much sharing. When one of them dared ask me to let
them up to use the bathroom, the other quickly followed suite so
that the other wouldn't be left alone with a stranger. That, or
they couldn't stand being apart. They had been or were going to
be together for all of their whirlwind tour of the USA, which
most likely included stops in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, the Grand
Canyon, New York City, and apparently Washington, DC (since that
was the terminus of my trip). Other than Hawaii, those seem to be
the only places the Japanese have any inkling to go and see. Oh
yes, we mustn't forget Disney World. Quite a few had the
customary Mickey Mouse bags, filled with over-priced, sweat-shop
produced t-shirts, pencils, and plush toys.
All in all, the flights weren't bad. At least I knew ahead of time who would be sitting beside me. No threat of being stuck next to a paranoid, suicide bomber or homocidal maniac. I'm sure in the eyes of many of the Snoopy-clad lovers traveling with me, I was that person. Oh well.
[My trip home was FANTASTIC, BTW. I was able to spend time with so many people that are near and dear to me. I played the doting Uncle my little niece, ate home-cooked meals with mom and dad and my big sister, watched an elephant attack a redneck, ate fondu and romped through an Amazonian rainforest with some of my university pals, stood in the presence of some of my favorite musicians at their very own club (omigawd!), and managed to cover a couple hundred miles of road without a car of my own. Pretty impressive, huh?]
Kobe: City of dreams!
06/04/00
Here I am, back in Taiyo and
depressed beyond belief. A month of travel and revelry has ended.
I've been all over Japan and to the United States, and now I'm
back to the BLAH of village life. I had been down in Kobe for
three nights o' fun. I was attending the 2000 Japan Exchange and
Teaching Program Renewer's Conference. We stayed at the swank
Portopia Hotel, built on the artifical Port Island floating off
of Kobe's main commercial stretch. I was there with over 1000
other JETs. How the city managed to stay in one piece is beyond
me, but then again, Kobe did weather the devastating Great
Hanshin Earthquake of 1995, and has blossomed into a sparkling
jewel. Kobe is a beautiful city. It is nestled next to the water,
with moutains looming up behind it. The land has a nice roll to
it, and the city is bustling with culture. It has a Chinatown, a
large foreign population, and an odd number of Irish pubs. I
spent those three days in a daze. I was meeting old friends,
spending time with Ibaraki friends, attending meetings, eating,
drinking, meeting new and fascinating people, listening to
speeches, sightseeing, shopping... and I did manage to find a
little bit of time for sleep. Yeah!
From there, I leapt into a frenzied weekend trip to Kanazawa, my
home during my year abroad in 1997-98. I was able to catch up
with people I hadn't seen in years, to get drunk, and to lose the
book I was almost done reading (Cold Mountain). A wild weekend,
but now I'm depressed to be back in the midst of things... Oh,
and the fact that I'm EXHAUSTED!
Ma, lock up the children! The Monsoon's a comin'
06/09/00
Well... not really. But today marked the beginning of the Rainy Season, or tsuyu, in Ibaraki. This is a period characterized by frequent rain and sometimes torrential downpours. It typically lasts for the month of June throughout much of the country (beginning and ending earlier in Okinawa, where it trails into heat and typhoon season, and beginning and ending later in Hokkaido, where the rains sometimes don't amount to that much). You'll have several days of rain, several days of sunshine, then more rain... A fun time. EVERYTHING gets wet, mold grows, fields flood... Fun stuff. But I try to enjoy it. After tsuyu leaves, we're stuck with the HEAT and HUMIDITY of the Japanese summer, and, without air-conditioning, I'm not looking forward to it.
Tsuyu is is now considered the fifth of Japan's four seasons. Japan prides itself on being the 'only' country with four seasons. They're often shocked when they learn that foreign countries do, in fact, have four distinct seasons. They're even more shocked sometimes when you suggest that Japan actually has 5 seasons. But even this is wrong. Traditionally, Japan had 18 seasons. These were all various periods, makred by spectacles of nature, the moon, temperatures... Tsuyu was one of these. As was setsubun, the period in February that marks the end of winter (see my old journal entries). There were seasons marked by the blooming of plum trees, and another by the cherries. So, next time a Japanese person asks you if your country has four seasons, tell them yes (if applicable) and then ask them how many seasons Japan has. You can surprise them.
As the rain poured down outside, the kids just kept practicing their club sports. They had soaked hair, soaked clothes and shoes... The baseball and soccer fields and the tennis courts behind the school had turned to muddy deathtraps, so all of the kids were crammed onto the soggy and slippery front lawn of the school. There were kids running laps, tennis balls flying, kids swinging bats and rackets, and kids kicking and lunging at balls. And during all of this pandemonium, the rain kept falling... sometimes lightly, and sometimes in pelting sheets. Yeah for club activities! The resilience of these Japanese school kids really impresses me at times. They practice for durations and under circumstances that would conquer their western counterparts... and this is just a small country junior high school (although the girls sports teams are all #1 in the region! and the girl's tennis team was #2 in the prefecture last year!).
Little lost kittens
06/10/00
On a damp morning jog through the rice fields surrounding her town, my friend Rachel was stopped in her tracks by a little noise. It was a faint little meow. Being a charming and compassionate girl, she wanted to see where it was coming from. She scanned the area and couldn't find much, but finally she noticed a little black dot in the middle of one of the soggy rice fields. She waded out and found a shivering kitten, completely black and meowing at her. To her surprise, the little kitten wasn't alone. She had two sisters with her, and one was looking quite far gone. Rachel jogged back to her apartment and grabbed a box. She carried two of the kittens home, thinking that the runt wouldn't pull through. Later, my friend Anna and her boyfriend, Chad, went back and rescued the third little kitten. By dinnertime that evening, all three were bouncing balls of energy, or, as my sister calls them, 'velcro-kitties', for their tenacious habit of clinging onto things with their sharp little claws.
Why were the kitties in the rice field? As much as folks don't like to believe so, the little things were abandoned. While it's a bit easier to understand the occurance of stray and abandoned cats in cities, where people may not have enough room to house the poor creatures, abandoning them in the countryside is a horrible thing to do. Many of the houses in this part of Japan are vast... surrounded by rice fields, or sweet potato fields, or woods, or beach, or something. There is lots of space here, so it surprised me that cats were just chucked out to die of exposure. The rainy season had started and these three little kittens had been out in cold, pouring rain ALL NIGHT by the looks of it.
Cats are popular pets in Japan,
but many Japanese seem to prefer dogs. Why is this? I asked the
tea lady at my school. She's a wondrous source of folk-knowledge.
She said that Japanese people often prefer dogs because cats can
turn into obake, or 'monsters'. There is a folk belief
(see stories by Lafcadio Hearn if you want to read about it) that
particularly old cats can develop powers. Obakeneko are
said to sprout one of more extra tails. These show that it is a
powerful creature, capable of magic and trickery, and not to be
trifled with. Additionally, these old, multi-tailed cats usually
harbor ill-thoughts towards humans. This is a reason why many
Japanese cats have bobbed or mangled tails. Part of it is
genetic, like manx cats. But it is rare to find a cat in Japan
with a long, straight tail.
My friend Sano told me an interesting story. He said that when he
was little, this big. fat cat lived next door to his house. He
was saying that he was watching it in the garden one day and it
was looking back at him. He then heard his name in a low and
ominous voice. "Yasushige!" Little Sano was terrified.
This monster cat knew his name and was coming to get him! Later,
he found out it was his father playing a trick on him. But the
cultural idea was implanted in his head, and he thouht the cat
had been a monster.
Another reason some Japanese people don't think highly of cats is found in Buddhist folklore. At the death of the Buddha, the cat was either too proud, too insensitive, or too malicious to shed tears. Every living creature, save the serpent, cried at the Buddha's death. This story has shaped traditional views of the cat in numerous countries where Buddhism has taken root.
These stories have not kept the Japanese from having cats as pets. I've seen numerous people with feline friends. Abandonment is a serious problem, much like in the United States. And it is interesting to consider how much of it, if any, is caused by cultural attitudes towards cats... That's my deep thought for the day.
Tripping
06/15/00
Fresh back from her class trip to Kamakura and Hakone, a spunky second-year student told me, "I like tripping!"
Good for her!
She didn't understand why I was smirking.
Snake!
06/16/00
Oh the terror! There was a scream from the hallway, and Mrs. Okawa, the school nurse, was yelling something about a snake coming into the teacher's room. I've never seen the teachers react so quickly (not even when the thrid-year boy was hit in the head by a rogue shotput). They all ran into the hall and I followed. Mrs. Okawa was waaaay down the hall, hand to mouth, with a look of complete terror on her face. The teachers shuffled around to gain her vantage point, and there, on the exterior wall of the school next to an open window was a magnificent 2-and-a-half foot long aodaishou, or Blue-Green snake. It was checking out the window that was probably expelling heated air from the front of the school and the hallway. He had been in the shade, and was probably looking for some place to get warm. Slowly, it slithered back down the wall and across the tiled courtyard towards the school kitchen, where the lunch ladies diligently worked on the school lunch. Everyone, save maybe one or two of the male teachers looked terribly frightened. And I still don't know why.
I can understand the reason behind an aversion to snakes in some parts of the country. The poisonous habu lives in Okinawa and southern Japan. Several people die each year from habu bites, usually attained by working in fields amongst the snakes. Poisonous sea snakes live in the warm waters of southern Japan's islands, and some more temperate parts of the country are inhabited by the mamushi, or 'pit viper' (a rather generous translation since most poisonous snakes are, in fact, pit vipers... the 'pit' referring to a heat-sensing region of the snake's face).
It's pretty common knowledge that the Japanese don't like snakes. They squeel and squirm whenever the subject of the conversation hints at snakes. Even the big male gym teacher, who coaches the Judo squad, was uneasy with the snake's presence today. I talked with the tea lady and the school nutritionist when we sat down after all of the commotion. I was asking them why so many Japanese people hate snakes. They said it was because snakes caused kimochi warui, which can be translated as 'bad feeling' or 'feeling of discomfort'. I think it generally refers to repulsion or disgust, but could literally mean bad feelings towards snakes. They say that snakes are wet and cold. Many people know that, in actuality, snakes are dry and often warm to the touch. Japanese people think snakes are slimy, and that is completely contrary to the facts. Students said that a snake's slithering, its means of locomotion, bothered them. Only one teacher admitted to liking snakes, and, like me, he was born under the year of the snake in the Chinese zodiac.
One thing that might attest to a Japanese fear of snakes is (yet again) Buddhism. In Buddhist folklore, when the Buddha died only the serpent and the cat kept from weeping. Everything on earth was so forlorn by the Buddha's passing that they burst into tears. The cat and the serpent kept dry eyes, and have carried a negative stigma in many Buddhist countries from that day forth. The snake is seen as dark and sinister, cold to the touch, and dangerous.
While some young people aren't as frightened by snakes as most Japanese adults, most squirm all the same. Some show interest, but those tend to be the bug-catching, tadpole-hunting boys. The older a Japanese person becomes, the stronger this aversion to snakes becomes. The bug-catching, tadpole-hunting boys at the elementary and junior high schools seem to have a passing interest in snakes, but it's more a fascination our of fear than anything. These kids are always amazed when I tell then my favorite animal. They asked me, wide-eyed, and I respond that I like salamanders and frogs. They look puzzled. When they ask me about lizards, I say, "Yes, I like lizards, too." Then we continue to turtles, which many Japanese children keep as pets. But I'm always the one who brings up snakes. And when I say I like them, the kids' mouths drop open and they stare.
For a related anecdote, a couple months ago I was drawing pictures of animals on flash cards in preparation for an elementary school visit. The head English teacher at the Junior high school was admiring my work, so I showed her the cards. She flenched when she saw my comical little snake drawing. It was a short and chunky snake, with big eyes and a smile, and she was having difficulty controlling herself. She wriggled in her seat and closed her eyes. That picture frightened her and she begged me to cover it. I think I'd call that an aversion to snakes.
Regular Dose of Radiation
06/22/00
Mrs. Okawa had been reminding me all week. She'd given me verbal reminders, left notes on my desk, and even submitted an official note to all of the teachers reminding then that today was X-ray day. I was advised to wear a plane white t-shirt -- nothing with designs or logos... that would be unsuitable.
Just as Mrs. Okawa had promised, precisely at 1:30 the mobile x-ray truck rolled into the school parking lot. They set up their check-in table at the school's front entrance, and there we all stood, papers in hand, waiting to be checked in and x-rayed. The whole scenario took so little time. We marched into the truck, stood at an awkward angle, chests pressed up against the little machine, and WHAM! we got our daily dose of radiation. It was over and done with in 30 seconds. I seemed the be the only person who thought this was a strange event.
Chest x-rays are a rotuine event in Japan. All students and
school personnel get such x-rays once a year... to check the
status of their lungs. While I can see the health benefits to
such a regular monitering of the condition of one's lungs, I also
encounter some cultural differences. Now, I may be wrong here,
but I always thought that x-rays were kind of bad. I thought that
they were only taken when it was necessary. I know that in my
life, apart from those taken in the dentist's office, I've had
only about 6-7 x-rays done in my life (three of which were chest
x-rays deemed manditory on Japanese visa applications!). I think
I'm safe in saying that most Americans are a bit wary about
getting in front of the x-ray machine. Most Americans don't want
to have even that miniscule exposure to radiation.
Now, I know that each time you fly in an airplane, you get
exposed to multiple times the amount of radiation in a simple
x-ray. But taking unnecessary x-rays just seems a bit foolish to
me. Guess I'm not the open-minded guy I thought I was.
I found it even stranger that instead of going into some
facility, there was a local, big, yellow X-ray Mobile that drove
around, parking at various public facilities, snapping shots of
people's internal structure, streaming out gamma rays all the
while. This whole process seemed even more surprising in a
country that is so opposed to atomic weapons and the sicknesses
caused by radiation. Although Japan suffered immeasurably from
the TWO atomic bombs dropped on them during WWII, they still have
an unwavering reliance on nuclear power, a penchant for chest
x-rays, and a general malaise to the threats that even small
doses of radiation can cause. I mean, seriously, I live in
Ibaraki, the center of Japan's nuclear power industry and all of
its atomic research facilities. I think we could just hold an
un-exposed piece of x-ray film up to our chests, walk outside,
and WHAM! we'd have taken our own chest x-rays for Mrs. Okawa.
Suigo
06/24/00
Today, my friend Laurie joined me for an outing into the heart of Suigo, the lush, rice-producing area in between the Tone River and Lakes Kitaura and Kasumigaura in Chiba and Ibaraki Prefectures. Our goal was the Sawara Aquatic Botanical Garden and their Ayame Matsuri (Iris Festival). Ayame are the water-loving Japanese iris. They are spectacular flowers, but they grow up out of some of the foulest-looking mud you have ever seen. There are dozens of varieties of shape and texture... all of the colors range from white to pink to blue to lavendar and dark purple. A lovely afternoon in the drizzle, amongst the irises.
Look for an upcoming Feature on my 'Back in Japan' page to focus on Suigo.
Cream Puffs?
06/28/00
I had a fun visit to the elementary school this afternoon. I ALWAYS dread going. Just like everything in my life, I dread making myself do it. Yes, I am always open to new adventures and experiences, but when it comes to stuff I MUST do, I hate making myself do it. It's this way with the elem. school visits. I never want to go, but once I'm there, it's absolutely great. I love it. The kids are awesome, I can joke around with them, and they LISTEN to me (a far cry from the behavior of most junior high school kids over here!). I gave them my introductory speech (something that has become a tightly-running, professional presentation, if I might add!). Then, they asked questions, I wrote their names in English, and then we played a game involving the English names of all the animals they know and love. Funny how I include things like snail and crab and exclude such fundamental animals as fish and bear! Birds were completely devoid of representation until I drew a poor excuse for a duck on my little game cards. All of the kids call it a goose when I show it. That isn't far off, but I thought they'd say duck. When I told them goose was wrong, they started naming all kinds of birds, from pheasant and heron to stork and crane, but not a duck. It makes me a bit paranoid of my drawing abilities. But then, I've never been able to draw a nice bird (damn creatures!).
I came back from the elementary school for a nice practice with our hopefuls in the coming English Interactive Forum. This is a local, regional, and prefectural English conversation competition for Junior High School kids. They get together in groups of 4-5 and talk for 7 minutes about any topic they can scrounge up. Today, we were practicing "what makes you happy?" and "what makes you cry?". I'm getting good at whipping answers out of thin air. heehee. Television dramas make me cry and the color red makes me happy. heehee. Neither is true. And I get even more far-fetched at times!
After practice, Mrs. Okumura, the slightly flighty but ever-demanding head English teacher at school (there's one other English teacher!) informs me that I have 'kuriimu sho' waiting for me. I'm trying to think of who or what this thing is. Mrs. Okumura tries to explain it to me. She fails. I enter the teacher's room expecting to run into yet another person that I had previosuly met but whom I cannot remember only to find a small package on my desk. Wrapped in plastic is a 'caramel and custard chou', or what we Americans call a 'cream puff'. Here I was, expecting an embarrassing exchange of words with some person I never recalled meeting, and it's just a cream puff awaiting my return. Ugh!
Snake! [update]
06/29/00
The little guy is back. He's come to the exact same place, the courtyard between the teacher's room and the school kitchen. Guess he likes it here. He's gotten a bit darker... more brown. This made me think it was a different snake, but the Vice-Principal has informed me that the aodaisho gets progressively darker throughout the season. Guess he builds up a tan. Hope he stays safe and enjoys his home here at the school.
Quote of the Day
06/30/00
I heard this one from a passing student in the hallway, and I liked it: "mikki mausu pawaa ooi"
Translation: "Mickey Mouse has great power!" I think it bodes true, considering the influence that the Walt Disney Company possesses in this world.
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