Fancy Seeing You Here

Another wonderful Japanese long weekend. Perhaps I should just stay at home and catch up on my sleep, do a little cleaning, maybe leisurely see some friends and catch up.
...
No, that'd be too easy. Instead, let's go traveling. After all, it's a long weekend.

Fun thing about traveling here is you just kind of think to yourself, "Hmm. Where's a city I have visited yet? Okayama? Well then! Let's go!", and off and away you go. I get the feeling that that’s how my friends decided this weekend: Throwing darts @ the map, and then playing Janken to decide the winner (I could write an entire blog about Janken [And in fact, I think I may in the future], but for now http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janken). Just like that, Okayama beats out Hiroshima, and we're off!

Strangest thing I found about being in Okayama was how it reminded me so of Toronto. The size of the streets, the buildings, and, of course, the streetcars. Okayama is one of only a handful of cities in Japan to still feature streetcars. And so seeing it made of think of it as Japan's TTC. It was quite surreal to walk the streets, but they carried with them that nostalgic and melancholic feeling all at once.


First thing: The park.　The park was incredibly lovely, and was juxtaposed to other Japanese parks in that it had large expanses of grass, which apparently here is unheard of. It any event, it reminded me greatly of home. Funny thing happened in said park. As we're meandering around on a hill, we happened to spot two other foreigners way across the field. You may think, "Oh, always on the lookout", or something, but you have to realize that being here amongst millions of black haired people causes blond to stick out like a pink elephant – One's eyes are just drawn to it, I suppose. Anyway, we innocuously thought nothing of it and continued on. Minutes later, we were walking passed them when we realized that we knew that blond! @ least, one of them. It was a friend of ours from Tottori, but one who lives on the other side of the prefecture and we rarely get the chance to see. She was showing her Australian friend from Shimane around before the latter returned to the Land Down Under in several weeks' time. A whiles of catching up and we moved off to check out the castle.

It was no sooner that we were not five meters from exiting the park, when I caught the immediate gaze of yet another foreigner walking right passed me. We stared at each other for what seemed an eternity before we pounced upon one another like a pair of oppositely-charged magnets. For you see, this particular girl – a Canadian I might add – was a friend of mine that I had met on the airplane sitting across the aisle. We hung out all during Tokyo orientation and that was the last time I saw her. We talked over MSN, but since she lives north of Tokyo, and this several hundred kilometers from me, I knew it would be the longest while before I saw her again. And so you can imagine my surprise @ running into her at a random park leagues from both our houses as she was down for the weekend visiting her friend.

Nothing particularly noteworthy thereafter – walked around the shopping area, ate bbq-esque burgers, and sat @ Mister Donut for several hours. The girls went the internet café to sleep (I’ll explain in a minute), and I met up with my friend and her best friend for drinks at a Canadian bar. Thereafter, retired at aforementioned internet café. Now, this is not such a phenomenon – we have them back home too. But! The scope of which they're going on here is something else. So... you can rent what are basically private rooms at which you can watch more movies than do exist or read more manga than are contained books in a university library. A few places – this one in particular – allowed for one to rent a room overnight.

So for ￥2000, we got a "room", about the size of a sofa plus leg space, a TV with maybe 10 channels, a PS2, a DVD player, a computer, and unlimited internet. And from this you could choose to watch literally thousands of movies all for free and immediately onto the comp. Considering they also throw in breakfast in the morning, a blanket for you to use, and a towel should you wish to use the shower (They have shower facilities), it all isn't bad for $20 CAD when all one wants to do is rest their head for a few hours.

Next morn, we did the Okayama Prefecftural Museum of Art, which was featuring work done by local artists in the area. I tell ya, the human mind still amazes me that people can come up with some of the things that they do. Simply stunning they were.

And as fast as it began (both the trip and the blog), it was just about over. Nevertheless, I do intend to hit it up again in force come spring when the parks are in full bloom.

(Short entry this time. Ray's 疲れた [tired])

Sit Here, and The Universe as you know it ends

In order to write this blog, you should be aware of the duress it took to convince my hand to release the exothermically pleasing cup of coffee that is providing the same effect as a micro-kotatsu (It would take me far too long to explain kotatsu. Please visit the following for more detail: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kotatsu). My extremities have been taking a beating lo these few weeks, and more is yet to come. But for now, I suppose that they can endure the cold in the name of relating yet another Japanese life-experience to the interested, the polite, and the just plain bored.
Musing on my ride in this morning, I've decided to compose a quick blurb on my train's social conventions. Now, I can't speak as to whether or not this happens on the commuter trains back home, but I know that it doesn't happen on the subway or the bus.

So every morning, the lot of us pile on the same 7:31 train on track 4. I use the lot of us in the sense that it's the same people: The same students heading to the same school, and the same adults heading to the same jobs. The cool thing about it is the regimentation of it all. There are three cars to the train, and everyone always rides in the same car. The people who took car three yesterday are taking car three today as will take car three tomorrow. And more to it, they sit/stand in the same spot day after day. I can close my eyes right now and describe just who's sitting in what box of four at any point in my car. This applies to sitting more so than standing because in the mad rush to make the door in the last minute or two, people will just cram on. That being said, in one arrangement or another, the people who were standing yesterday are standing today as will be standing tomorrow. The regularity of it is such that if someone is missing, or is not sitting where they should be, you can actually notice it. This is a thing to say considering that I've only been riding this train three months and do not spend each morning actively memorizing the order.

It ends not here. When we arrive at the stations, you know just which people are getting off, and just which ones will be getting on. More to it, the people waiting at the stations know just where to stand so that as the train pulls up the door will be right in front of them. You don't just arrive at the station and wait for the train - you wait at your spot. And as getting on and off goes, occasionally seats will open up here and there, but unless you sit there matter of course, don't even think about it. Vacant places will remain so until arrival at the appropriate station, at which time the appropriate body will occupy it.

The whole commute is a thing of beauty, actually. One cannot help but marvel at the sublime simplicity and order of it all. What's odder still is that this does not repeat in the evening - most likely on account of everyone coming home at different times. You'll notice the same people getting on at certain stops, but we all sit very much where we please.

All said and told, today something out of the ordinary happened. In all sense and purpose, it was nothing - An occasional passenger, someone I do not usually see, happened to sit in one of the box seats that opened up. Now, while there is certainly nothing wrong in the least with sitting in a paid-for seat, this seemingly innocuous act set off a chain reaction that was detectable only by those trained to see it. By sitting in the seat, a group of boys who usually sit there was forced to occupy another seat/stand up. This forced two other girls who normally occupy the seat taken by the boys to sit next to me. This in turn caused a group of boys who usually take the seats beside me to stand, and the added standing contributed to further standing congestion that made the train – to me, at least – noticeably seem fuller than any other given day. It was just one of those moments when you kind of feel a spark hit you as though something is not right in The Universe; like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. I found it remarkable because it just goes to show that I've been here thus long that something as the seating of a train would cause me to go, "???"

This blog should be testament to the morning train commute. Such that I would devote an entire entry and several minutes of my life towards a relatively minor and circumscript affair is testament to how profound such a minor perturbation can leave such a resonance later on in the day.

That, or my mind was just so idle that it created a mountain out of a molehill.

NOTE: The actual positioning varies +/- 1 meter, 19 times out of 20.

Super Fun Happy Pumpkin Day

***YES, I know how late this is. YES, I've been putting it off. YES, I've been lazy. YES I've been busy. Have we established that I'm a putz now? Yes? We can move on? Great! Please enjoy.***Right-o. Japanese Halloween. Guess this day was coming. It's more or less the same as Halloween anywhere else.

Except no one - adult or child alike - dresses up in costume. And there's no trick-or-treating. And no one decorated their house. And no one gives out candy. And no one carved Jack O'Lanterns (Because there are no orange pumpkins in Japan). And no one has Halloween parties (sorta). But yes sir, in all other ways, it's just like being back home.

One thing that is lacking here is the costumes during the day. No one goes to work or more importantly school dressed up. I can recall - oh, so long ago it seems - going to high school and the flock of teachers would be dressed up as I don't know what. But here, it's all about the professionalism. I even had the bright idea for a costume as dressing up in the kids' uniform; I think they'd have gotten a kick out of it. But sadly, the dream is gone. And as for the kids? Inconceivable. They effectively sleep in their uniforms. If they're going to school at all, even if it's to get something from their desk on a Sunday afternoon (School's are open 7 days a week here for activities on the weekend), they have to be in uniform. So it's just not in the cards for them to be dressed down for something as trivial as Halloween.

But this is not to say that the Halloween spirit was absent from school that day. After the first class, a few kids came to my desk chiming, "Trick-or-treat!"

Sidebar: On Monday, I did a presentation about Halloween to a few classes detailing the highlights of our wonderfully nonsense holiday. Throughout the entire thing, I had perhaps two of thirty sets of eyes upon me while the rest were doing just about everything they could not to listen. By the end, I'd thought that perhaps one or two kids heard my explanation of Trick-or-treat. How wrong I was.
/Sidebar

I had bought some candy the night before because I'd expected a few kids to know about Trick-or-treating, but imagine my surprise when dozens of kids made their way to my desk throughout the day with their hands outstretched and a slightly-incorrect-but-nonetheless-adorable version of "Trick-or-treat". That was but one side of the coin. The cool part of "Trick-or-treat" @ school was the teachers who participated too. Here and there, one would ask what I was doing, and I'd poorly explain in Japanese. When finished, I'd tell them to say it, and reward them with a piece of candy accompanied by this little twinkle of five year-old gleamed in the corner of their eye.

The day tears on. For all my classes I did a powerpoint on Halloween. For the most part, they seemed only mildly interested in our weird traditions, and only slightly more so when I showed them pictures of costumes. The highlight came when a picture of a guy dressed as a bottle of lotion and an innocently indicative arrow came on the screen. Most of my classes didn't give it a second thought, but one student raised his hand and asked me about it. I played it off as, "Oh, I don't know. People sometimes wear weird costomes," and it was then that my teacher chimed in with an oh-so naive, "Oh, it appears that it says hand lotion on his costume. He must be a bottle of lotion." It was all the willpower I possessed to keep myself for bursting at the seams. I then devoted the only mental channeling that I had spare - which was very little save I explode with chuckles - to pray to God not to have either her or the student follow up. Someone was awake @ the switch that day, because they both dropped it, and I was but too happy to quickly continue on.

After school that day, we had English club and today we were making Jack O'Lanterns. This is a huge deal because there are no pumpkins in Japan. Well, that's not entirely correct. It would be more apt to say that there are none of the huge orange pumpkins that we see in abundance that time of year back home in Japan. The pumpkins here for the most part are green or beige, and fit in the palm of your hand. Thus, it was with a stroke of luck that I just happened to be placed at an agricultural school, where one teacher just happened to be growing huge pumpkins for a competition, which also just happened to be judged the day before. Therefore, he had no futher use for the two 20+ pound pumpkins that he grew, and they were ours to destroy.

The thing I liked about it all was that there was as many teachers as there were students. Because A) Halloween isn't celebrated here as it is in the West, and B) There aren't any Jack O'Lantern-esque pumpkins to be found, most people in Japan have never carved a pumpkin before. So for these 30, 40 year-old teachers, this was a first for them. I almost felt like a proud pappa teaching his son to fish and then watching him reel in a bass on the first cast. 'Cause an hour later and we had two of the biggest Jack O'Lanterns that I've ever done, and they did it all themselves. I was incredibly proud and happy for them 'cause everyone was having a great time - teacher and student alike. Even the principal popped in to take a few pics of himself with the smiling orange faces.

So even though I didn't get to dress up as I usually do by day and party the night away later on, I would definately mark this Halloween up there as one to remember.

Canada, by a Canadian, for Japanese, written about by a Canadian

Tumbling down the daily rabbit hole that is my high school day in Japan, I chanced to find myself in the library, and there stumbled upon a book written about Canadian life for those who know either little Japanese or little English. The following is a few passages that I found quite interesting. I'm wondering what kind of mindset we're now seen in when a Japanese is asked about Canadians. I am well aware that they are taken out of context and are not meant to patronize. I simply found it amusing some of the aspects of our culture that were chosen to be highlighted.

Coffee Craze
"For many people, the coffee shop is the first stop of the day. We can't seem to function without that first cup of coffee. It is a staple in both our business and social lives."

Dating
"Most Canadians begin dating in junior high school. This relationship usually consists of holding hands, thinking you are in love and... breaking up after three weeks. This continues into high school, the only difference being at 16, most people get their driver's license. It's a parents' nightmare, especially dads. Now the boys are picking up the girls usually in a beat-up car with a stereo that costs more than the car."

"Nowadays Canadians are waiting until later to tie the know. After all, we are only young once. Our twenties are the best time to have fun!"

Dressy or Casual?
"We love being comfortable even at the cost of looking like a slob."

"... when given the option, a lot of us would most likely choose jeans and a T-shirt over dress pants and a shirt. Therefore, when traveling to Canada, designer goods and high heel shoes are best left at home."

Exercise
"... If you get a chance, you may want to check out a gym. You can work off a little stress and laugh while learning about people we have come to call "muscle heads." They are the guys who flex in the mirror. This is done for their own benefit although they may feel that they are benefiting the entire gym."

Family Holidays/Turkey Dinner
"No matter what the holiday is, you can expect to see a turkey on the table and turkey always means leftovers. It's delicious, but in the end of the following week when we are still eating turkey sandwiches, turkey soup and mom's turkey hash, we're happy that the next family holiday isn't for another two months."

The Great Outdoors
"Many people survive the workweek knowing that they are going to their cottage on the weekend to relax."

(About hunting and fishing) "Usually these activities are enjoyed by Canadian men. It's a guy thing! It gives them a chance to feel at one with nature and more importantly, a chance to brag to their friends if they should happen to catch something."

Japan in the Eyes of Canadians
"We imagine everyone rides bicycles, eats rice, and knows Karate."

"In general, we believe that Japanese people are very smart. They provide some of the world's best cars and technology."

"For me (the author) ... The biggest mystery is sleeping on the train. All Japanese people fall asleep on the train and wake up immediately at their stop. Not before and not after. This never works for me."

Hockey
"Nothing gets Canadians more riled up than a good game of hockey."

Party On!!!
"Canadians love to party."

"Basically any situation is a good situation for a party."

"If you're looking for a party, it won't be hard to find and don't worry if you drink too much and make a fool of yourself. Your friends may make fun of you all week until next weekend when they make an even bigger fool of themselves. This behavior is quite common in Canada."

Public Drinking
"For a country that enjoys drinking, the rules as to where you can buy liquor and where you can drink it are quite strict."

Smoking
"One could almost admire the determination of a Canadian smoker who braves the -20 degree weather in the dead of winter just to have that cigarette."

Sense of Humor
"Most Canadians are sarcastic by nature."

Sensitive to Being Called Americans
"We don't like it when we are mistaken for our southern neighbors, whose reputation is markedly different from ours."

"Achieving success at the cost of Americans, especially in the world of sports, helps us maintain our national pride."

Vegetarianism
"There is also a group of people who have no better reason other than "everyone else is doing it" or "maybe I will lose some weight." They usually stick to the diet until the first summer barbecue."

What You See is What You Get
"Japanese may spend extra time trying to make a good impression, but keep in mind Canadian manners are quite different. In Canada, what you see is what you get."

Which Way to the Beach?
(About Polar Bear Swims) "Wading in is torture. You will be okay once you survive the initial shock."

Winter Blahs!
"Apparently university classes are more important than your life and you should brave the storm."

"The sight of snow makes us sick and we being asking, 'What the hell am I doing here?' "

You Put Your Down Down and Thrust Your Pelvis! Uh!

week·end (wēk'ěnd') [week-end, -end]
–noun
1. the end of a week, esp. the period of time between Friday evening and Monday morning.
2. any two-day period taken or given regularly as a weekly rest period from one's work.

Rest? Pfft. Not for the weary...

I'll introduce this update in a style that one of my friends here enjoys: So, what does Hard Gay (wikipedia it if you don't know:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hard_Gay), narrowly making/missing trains, and logs set ablaze have in common? This weekend.

So the weekly exodus of Tottori people took us far from home, over the rainbow to the other side of OZ a.k.a. the Greater Yonago Area. Specifically, it's a little town called Kishimoto that is quaint and quiet and out of the way. That is, until the foreigners descended upon it. We were in town for the birthday party of our Trini girl Simone, who had graciously opened the doors to her home to allow us to trash it. I mean party and sleep there. Such parties are great times for us Tottorians because they bring us all together from far and wide to one place to catch up and shoot the breeze.

Just getting started was quite the missions, as I arrived at the station to leave with perhaps three minutes to spare. I was to travel with Michelle, Stephanie, and Renate; however they were making food for the party/train ride, and as I had to go to the bank first and would therefore require more time, I decided to leave a few minutes before them. Just as I walked in the entrance of the station, Meredith breathlessly came running up and all but shoved me along to the ticket counter, up the escalator and onto the train. We made it on with perhaps 30 seconds to spare, and I desperately tried to call the girls to apprise them of the situation. I succeeded in reaching Michelle, who informed me that they were just buying the tickets then. No sooner did the words leave her mouth did the doors to the train close and we were on our way. It was fortunate for the girls that there was another train in about twenty minutes, and, though their journey was a bit more eventful than mine (missed a stop), we did through one way or another all arrive at the party by day's end.

The icing on the cake of this party was the shadow of Halloween cast upon the weekend. Believe you me; you don't want to ask a group of JETs to use their imaginations, especially when it comes to costumes. I’ll... let the pictures speak for themselves.

In any event, it was quite the evening of Panty Dropper (A Jesus Juice-esque mélange of random liquors, juices, and fruits), winding in the dancehall (formerly the living room), and one outlandish costume after another. But oh, it ends not here. Afterwards, we're heading to the bar in Yonago! Suffice it to say, drinks were had, dances were made, fun was done. All and all, a good night.

The next morning we decided as consensus to stop it at Mitoku on the way home to attend the Fire Festival. For those not familiar with Mitoku, it is the mountain/Buddhist temple that we had missioned to in the first few weeks. The one with the temple perched on the side of the mountain? Oy... read the blog more, people.

I'm not sure the specifics of it, but from what I gather the fire is sacred and is supposed to cleanse you of impurities. By literally burning them off of you. We don't actually walk ON fire, or on burning hot coals, but rather on logs that are on the fire, so it isn't so bad, actually. I did get a tiny burn, but I suppose that's the same as someone saying that they got a little wet while going swimming.

After the festival, Ayden drive Renate and I to the train station and we made the mutha with 10 seconds to spare. Quite literally. Well, not THAT literally as when we got to the door someone in a wheelchair was getting off, so that took about 30 extra seconds or so. But if it wasn't for that, it would have been a photo finish.

So while it was nothing that was the hallmark of the Japan odyssey, it was the paragon of just the sort of random, exciting, sleep-deprived weekend that is the norm here in the merry ol’ land of Japan.

A Weekend Out of Time

FOREWARD: So out of an alternating combination of sloth and perpetual busyness, I haven't written this for two weeks, so here it is now. When you see "this weekend" or "today" or "yesterday", think that it happened two weeks ago.

So many a time, a single decision puts us on course for one destiny or another – the slightest of determinations can drastically and irrevocably shape our fates in profound ways never before imagined. An entire life can be thrown on tangents fantastic and terrifying on a whim.

This was not the case this weekend. We simply made the choice to go to Matsue lest we be bored at home.

Renate, Meredith, and I, on the whim of a moment, decided that we needed to get out of the city, and in fact, out of the prefecture entirely. One of the girls decided that we should do up the neighbouring prefecture's capital as it was not all and all too far away. The plan really took shape when we decided that on the way back we could stop at Mt. Daisen and give it a leisurely climb. Smug and content with out battle plan, we strapped on our armor, ready our weapons, and went to wage war with Saturday and Sunday (We got some clothes together, stopped at the bank, and drove off in the car).

The scenery once you leave the city is quite lovely – and stark, too. One moment you're passing the mall, and the next you're surrounded by mountains and valleys all around you, interspersed with tiny villages here and there. It would be a nice drive on a lazy afternoon – If only gas wasn't so expensive.

NOTE: By the way, gas here is equivalent to about $1.50 a litre, so quit your complaining, Canada. Of course, some of the tanks are smaller, so the fill-up is about the same cost, but... yeah.

Three and change hours and one toll booth later, and we have arrived in Matsue, the capital city of Shimane prefecture. Matsue in many ways reminds me of Tottori, but with subtle differences. Perhaps it's the abundance of older architecture; the "Old Japan" feel if you will. Just carried a "Japanese" air about the place, if that makes any sense.

In any event, we decided to hit up Matsue Castle first. Matsue is one of 12 castles in Japan that is still in its original skin. That is to say, it hasnt been besieged, burnt down, and reconstructed. As such, the walls, roofs, beams, etc., actually are 400 + years old. And as most castles in Japan are prone to having, it was replete with artifacts belonging to the castle lords, armor, swords, painting, scrolls, and many other things making it a veritable museum.

After the castle, we hit up a samurai residence. Just as it sounds, it was a house that was occupied by a samurai family about 200 years ago or so. I really enjoyed it there because I thought it was interesting that people actually lived in this place, going about their daily lives oblivious that some time later people would be admiring it and taking pictures of it and such. It made me think if there were any buildings that I see everyday that could one day be tourist attractions: A police station, a restaurant, my friend's house. Hey, you never know. After all, I'm sure that if I time-traveled back and told someone at the house of its future popularity, they'd be quite surprised – And not just because of the fact that a black dude was talking to them in English during the middle of 19^th century isolationist Japan.

We then missed a little boat cruise by a few minutes at around 5 P.M. (much to the girls' disappointment), and so decided to find us some food as we were starving. This led us to drive and then walk to a place that had a distinctly Western-restaurant feel to it (Think Kelsey's, but more done up). The service started great in that Meredith got her food only minutes after ordering it, but then things took a downward spiral. Almost 15 or so minutes later, Renate got her food. And an almost unprecedented 20 minutes after that, my culinary delight finally arrived (By which point Meredith was long done, and Renate was on the hind legs). Bone-headed us, we decided to order dessert, and that took I don't even remember how long to reach us. Needless to say, while the staff was very friendly, we were left wondering whether the servers also doubled as the cooks.

Dinner in belly, we bid our Matsue farewell, and then back into Tottori prefecture. The next stop found us in Yonago, which is the second biggest city after Tottori city. We humbly asked a friend if we could crash at her place because, as we wanted to do Mount Daisen and it was only about 30 minutes from Yonago (As opposed to two hours from Tottori), we felt it the prudent choice. Our friend graciously allowed us the use of her floor and many futons, and we fell asleep almost immediately.

Sidebar: MAD love to Kira (Upon whose floor we slept). There's one more place in the (Tottori) shi to crash if you're ever on this side of the prefecture. (Shi is a prefix attached to names to indicate that they're cities. We here use it as a diminutive to refer to Tottori city: Tottori-shi = Tottori City; Yonago-shi = Yonago City).

Early on the next morning, we gave out much love to our friend and set out for Daisen. Renate's car – which she has affectionately named Mitsurugi – barely made it up the mountain despite the fact that she had her pedal literally to the floor and the poor ol' boy was still barely making 40. But! We made it. A quick inspection led me to believe that I may have underestimated the mountain, as everyone around was in hardcore hiking gear (Clothing, equipment, backpacks, etc), and I was just chilling in my jeans and t-shirt. I gave it no more than a passing thought and we began our odyssey. Even getting to the stall to pay was a mission and a half as the concourse up to it was a good 30 degree incline or so. There was a few shrines and temples on the way up – a few hundred years old each – and then the actual climb on the path began.
Before I talk about the climb, please keep in mind that I'm really, really... really out of shape. P.E. and me don't see clearly. Please just bear this in mind. So there was two legs to it. In the first leg, it wasn't so bad: The trail was inclined, but fairly constant and the terrain was relatively good. Then we hit a dam – literally. A series of obsolete dams at which we could catch a reprieve as it was a very flat and open space. Then the second leg began.

...

...

...

Renate will vouch for me on this one. I think it's safe to say that I've never been so physically exhausted in all my life and I hyperbolize not. Ms. Über-fit Meredith we bade to go on without us as we were being deadweight. And so the two of us were going at the snail's pace, one foot in front of the other, and taking breaks every 20 meters it seemed. Where there were stairs, I was taking it one step at a time – Nothing in the universe existed to me except for that next step that was barely in my field of vision. I think that at one point I actually saw my life flash before my eyes. Conversely, I remembered a few things that I've got to apologize to a few people for. :P It was about at this point, perhaps 1400 meters up, that I got my second wind. From whom I stole it, I know not, but however I did it, I was still winded, but able to continue more easily.

Something cool about the climb was that EVERYONE who passes you, either going the same way or, more often than not, coming back down, will say konnichi wa to you with a smile. A few will even offer you encouragement, such as gambatte ne (Good luck!) or muzukashii ne (It's difficult, isn't it?), and I found these little bits to be rather fostering to my determination to pwn the mountain.

We did in fact summit, at which point I understood the reason for the crazy climbing gear as the temperature dropped a good ten degrees, and add to that flowing air currents that might blow over a small child. But it made for a great view and a very fulfilling sense of accomplishment to finally make it up there.

A friend of ours is going to do the mountain four times over the course of two days – twice a day. We think that he's mad. But to him, I bid gambatte!

The Japanese rock my socks (Or, The Karma Gods are in a good mood)

The eternal lights in the sky take note of the scurrying little 'uns on the pale blue marble. They pull on cosmic drawstrings to effect the most subtle of events and actions that reverberate forward in time like the butterfly's tornado. Divine intervention, karma, probability, call it what you will; however it seems to swoop down from above and smack us in the head when we often least expect it, for good or for naught. And it just so happens that such a spooky event happened to me yesterday.

For the last few days, I've been doing a presentation for one of my classes. We're doing a unit about world peace and what the students can do for world peace. To give them an example, Karen (The other ALT at my school) wrote a story for all the classes involved about the Free Hugs campaign so as to show the students something easy that one person can do for world peace. Last week, with maybe 10 minutes or so before one of these classes, the teacher that I'd be having class with asked me to put together a powerpoint about the subject. 10 minutes. So in a whirlwind, I manage to research some things and slap something quickly together. It works; the class understood it. Me being the perfectionist that I am, I wanted to make it better (A: Because it was going to be used in other classes by other teachers, and B: Because I was going to be using it the following week), so little by I added in pictures, more explanation, etc. Spice it up a bit.

The point of this deluge is that I've had "Random Acts of Kindness" floating around in my head for the last few days. Bear in mind.

Yesterday @ school was a fight as I was feeling sick from the get go. This nagging sore throat was bothering me all day, and it certainly did not help matters that I had to loudly speak in several classes all day. So coming home, being sick and tired - literally - I had of no inclination to make dinner for myself, so I decided to stop in to a place at the station.
Aside: In or around more sizable stations in Japan, there are a plethora of ramen shops, coffee shops, etc., that serve cheap, quick food to travelers in a hurry or businessmen on the way home.

I stopped in front of a small soba shop and when the owner - a middle-aged woman - smiled at me, I took it as an inviting sign and went it, ordered a bowl, and had a seat at the "bar".

Aside: In Japan, if you speak to someone in Japanese off the bat, especially if you look like you know what you're talking about, especially if your pronunciation is good, they'll continue to speak to you in Japanese until such time as you make a mistake (Say something grossly wrong, fail to understand a question, etc.) at which time they'll either switch to English, or speak in very simple Japanese.

So as I ordered in Japanese very quickly, she proceeded to have a conversation with me. This is no more unusual that it is anywhere else - working at or near a train station/airport/port you encounter your fair share of travelers and want to hear their stories, so you talk to them. Same thing here. I told her I was a teacher living nearby and that I was from Canada and such, and we had a conversation about Canadian life and my time in Japan. Out the blue, during a pause in our conversation, she asked if I like "onigiri", to which I replied in the affirmative, and without a word she took one of the ones for sale on the bar and placed it before me with a smile. Floored, I apologized profusely (that's just what you do here when you get something; apologize) and told her that she didn't have to. She said something along the lines of, "It's no big deal", and that it was ok. I thanked her and finished my meal.

When I paid, she handed me my change, and then placed before me a saran wrapped ball of rice, "for second dinner", she said (I had mentioned earlier in my conversation with her that the soba was my dinner for the evening). Again, I bowed myself silly and told that she didn't have to, but she said that she was happy to do it.

Perhaps it was the random act of kindness that I received at the same time that I was preparing the lessons at school. Or perhaps it was just something nice a stranger did on a day that I wasn't feeling so hot. Whatever it is, I felt impelled to share my simple tale. And so I left the soba shop with a full stomach, a full bag, and a full heart.