I'm looking for...

I know it's been a while since I've blogged- Lately I've had trouble trying to write tweets more frequently, let alone longer blog posts. Plus, kinda sadly, there doesn't seem to be much to report about vein back in Japan. Same experiences and troubles as before, though it's become so normal for me that I don't find the need to report about it as much. I will try, when I can, but don't hold your breath.

One thing I did want to share however, was this. Definitely brought a smile to my face while going trough another class-worth of markings.

buddhist disneyland

A friend told me about 'Buddhist Disneyland' a while back, but I didn't really pay much attention then. I just figured Buddhism and Disneyland were mutually exclusive, so anything that used both words in the same sentence just didn't seem... right. Plus, There were still some huge tourist places that I still had yet to visit, so the prospect of wandering around a Buddhist cemetery over tourist attractions, food and phone straps didn't really sound that appealing.

However, now that a few years have passed where I've visited the large touristy places, eaten more than I could possible imagine, and *sniff sniff* my much-cherished phone straps are now an endangered species, Buddhist Disneyland doesn't sound like that crazy of an idea. Also, with its reputation of being a photogenic spot, I felt kinda obliged to make a visit there to justify my SLR purchase last year, which has been gathering dust since for the past eight months or so. So, with friend in tow, it was off to Buddhist Disneyland, or as it is more commonly known, Okunoin.

I don't know what it is about the place, but despite it being a cemetery that's been in place for centuries and considered the largest graveyard in the country, it doesn't have the same vibe that makes me creeped out when I walk past cemeteries in other countries.

why is your head so small?

I don't know why, but I distinctly remember being in year 8, sitting in the art room learning about life drawing. We were drawing portraits of our friends for a project when my art teacher explained people's body's proportions. I was surprised to find out that a person's arm span is the same length as their height, and that a person's eyes are generally centred on the middle of the face, rather than being  on the upper third of the face. I also remember being told that when drawing people in cartoons, a character's body is roughly height of 4-6 of the characters heads, and for realistic drawings, their height the equivalent of about 8 heads. Why exactly I still remember this after all these years, and a thing from my French classes in uni, is still a mystery, since I didn't really think knowing the amount of heads in a person's body was ever a useful thing to really know. But it is something I can't stop thinking about since this week.

Sitting at my desk on my computer, I overheard most of the other teachers talking about effective print club techniques, such as using peace sign hands to frame your face, and holding your hand up closer to the camera than your face. 

"So when you hold up your hand to the camera, your hand looks much bigger, and makes your face look much smaller in comparison."

"Is that so? I just thought all the girls did it because it was cool."

"Well, not really. Japanese people have big heads, you see, a lot bigger proportionally compared to foreigners. Just look at Narin."

Hearing my name, I instinctually look up to see if someone called me name, only to see the whole staffroom looking back, silently admiring my (supposedly) small head. After the eternally long pause, and probably noticing my discomfort being stared at, someone mentions,  "Narin, your head is very small!", as if to appease my obvious awkwardness.

"Um... Thank you?" Awkwardness not exactly appeased, but soon enough, people stop staring and go back to their regular conversations. 

Awkwardness, staring, and not understanding what exactly is going on? It must be Thursday.

not in kansas anymore

You know that awkward, first day at a newschool feeling? In theory, you know what you’re in for: Being with a new group of students and teachers, a new schedule, and new environment. It’s all the same, but slightly different than before, so even though you’ve done this whole ‘school’ thing before, you still don’t quite know what to expect.

Turns out, even though my school days are well behind me, I still can’t shake that feeling. I’m sure it doesn’t really help either that my workplace also just happens to be a school.

After working at a handful of schools, I thought I had this English teaching thing down. Knowledge of what the present participle is? Check. Handful of games and lesson ideas that incorporate some form of grammar point? Check. Ability to deflect boys’ inappropriate questions (and also their anal-probing fingers)? Check.

What I forgot to prepare for though, wasthe fact that I’m now teaching in Osaka. I’m out of the quaint little town in Gifu and into one of the largest cities in Japan. Despite living in Melbourne, I feel like a country bumpkin who has moved to the big smoke. I’m absolutely swamped with students – 13 classes of 40 students as opposed to 6 classes of 35– and feel it’s even more impossible now to remember the sheer number of students' names. As a result of more classes, it also means I see each class only once aweek, some every fortnight, which also has resulted in me taking charge of the whole lesson to compensate. I know I can do the assisting part of the Assistant Language Teacher thing, but teaching? For a whole lesson? In my old school, sure I took charge of classes, but it was more like elective classes and when the English teacher was away – I was responsible, but at the same time, I wasn’t completely responsible in the event that no work was actually done.

Everything I did learn about Japanese schools may have also been only applicable to my schools in Gifu, too. I got the weirdest looks after asking what junior high school festival was, since it never really happened in Gifu. Chalk it up to paranoia, maybe, but I swear there was a slight condescending tone when I asked if the students ate kyushoku, or the school lunch. “Oh, how quaint. You had kyushoku at junior high in Gifu. We only have that in preschools and primary schools. You know, just for the little kids.” 


Okay, maybe they didn't say that, but I knew they were thinking it. I could tell by their looks. 

an ikea lover's dream

This would be a post showing you pictures of everything in my place, but seeing the lack of anything in my apartment, it seems pictures aren't really necessary. That, plus it's not the largest place in the world - my apartment in Gifu seems like a mansion in comparison. Not that I'm too overly upset about it - I guess it's the price you pay when you're actually close to a major city in Japan, and your train station is literally only a few stops away from the city centre. And yes, the fact I'm starting from scratch with a newly-rented apartment (and not inheriting a bunch of stuff from numerous previous English teachers) means just about every day I'm spending a good chunk of money to buy something that my apartment needs. I'm pretty much only limited by what fits in my bike basket, or up until yesterday, what I could carry home from the station. 

Trying to make lemonade out of lemons, it does give me the freedom to furnish and design my apartment the way I want. Also, while my apartment isn't the most spacious, I'm fortunate enough to be living in a country that is well-versed in space efficiency. I don't have room for a dish-drying rack beside my sink, but not to worry, as apparently they make overhanging dish-drying shelves. 

I also just heard that one of Ikea's few Japanese stores is in Osaka, so I am thinking fulfilling my dream of designing a room straight out of an Ikea catalogue. Yep, I know - who said you can't dream big?

japan take two

As evidenced by the lack of posts on this blog, I've struggled to find things that were noteworthy enough to write about coming back to Melbourne. As much as there is in Melbourne, it just doesn't seem as exciting after living in a foreign country where buying groceries in a different language seemed like an adventure. And while I do appreciate the extensive varieties of cheese and bread on offer at supermarkets, I just don't feel 'Coles' and 'adventure' belong in the same sentence. 

But, in theory, this whole blogging deficiency is about to change. Despite deciding to come back to Melbourne this time last year after tiring of the feeling of starting again that came every year teaching English in Japan, I'm packing my life up and heading there yet again. Am I crazy? Yeah, probably a little. But this year back home and with friends have really put things in perspective. Sure my friends are awesome, and Melbourne really is the place to be, it just might not be the place for me at the moment. The jobs that I really want are few and far between, and involve Japan in some way or another. On top of that, those jobs are also looking for native-like fluency in Japanese, which I still feel isn't where I want it to be. So, all signs seem to point to Japan a second time around. 

While I can't guarantee more adventures that will equal discovering Jesus, or even days at work that are as traumatic memorable as before, my fingers are crossed that at the very least, it involves more food adventures and of course, the resumption of my favourite pastime. 

reminiscing about sendai

 I, like everyone else around the world, have been glued to the screen watching the news coverage in Japan. And like everyone else, I just don't know how to put into words how I feel about the whole tragedy, and can't even begin to imagine how those remaining in Tohoku feel. Their homes, family and friends - their lives - wiped out in an instant, and continue to live in fear of aftershocks on top of a nuclear situation. My heart really goes out to them. It's sad to think that one of the last places I visited in Japan before returning to Australia probably won't ever be the same.

Stepping off the shinkansen in one hot summer day in August last year, I had no idea what to expect from Sendai. Essentially, it was just a town that up north that I felt I should see; What exactly it was that I was supposed to see there, I had no idea. But travel fatigue had set in, and I was tired of moving from place to place every day. So rather than spending a day in Sendai and another in nearby Niigata, I booked a hotel for two days and hoped I would find stuff to keep me occupied for the time.

Although I had heard of this 'Tanabata festival' that was pretty huge there, I pretty much just ignored all information about it, thinking it wasn't really relevant to me. After all, Tanabata is celebrated all around Japan, it from my previous experience, it just involves people tying their handwritten wishes to a bamboo tree, and eating star-shaped jelly for school lunch. Plus, in Gifu it's celebrated in July, so I thought my chance to see a larger festival with more bamboo and star-shaped foods was over.

As I walked around the station and saw the giant paper lanterns adorning everything, however, it slowly dawned on me that I maybe should have read up on the Tanabata festival a little more. Maybe the people of Sendai weren't just being lazy and hadn't neglected to take down their month-old decorations.

Being in a town that was known for its festival, it's needless to say that it was pretty packed. But as an avid Japanese festival fan, I couldn't really complain. With the crowds of people came fireworks, performances, a cheerful atmosphere, and of course, stalls upon stalls of festival food.

It was a weird sense of denouement going to my last festival in Japan, and seeing how much had changed since the first festival I went to during my first week in Gifu. Rather than wanting to try every single food offered at the food stalls, I avoided the often-questionable beef skewers and made a beeline straight for the jaga butter and takoyaki. The novelty of seeing people wearing yukatas had worn off so much that I barely batted an eyelid seeing young guys rocking a yukata with orange crocs and anime hair.

Festival celebrations aside, there was more than enough things to fill my time. Initially it does feel like most other towns in Japan, but walking through the city, you notice the history of the area reflected in everything you see. The town is famous for being established by Date Masamune, who, according to my academic research, is a famous eyepatch-doting samurai that wields up to six swords at once and speaks in a mix of Japanese and English. Okay, so maybe the creators of anime may have exercised their artistic licence on the part, but still, his impact can still be felt in Sendai. Crescent-shaped designs - an homage to Masamune's famous helmet - is incorporated into architecture, street signs, and street lamps throughout the city.

Maybe it's the stories that Masamune was also gourmand that made food a focus there, or maybe it was the food that influenced his decision to relocate there. Either way, it's a city that takes its cuisine very seriously - it's said to be the origin of quite a few different foods, like zunda mochi, hiyashi chuka, and most famously, gyutan. Gyutan is itself is ox tongue that is lightly seasoned, sliced, and grilled, which has become a delicacy all over Japan. It's said to have originated in Sendai after WWII - Occupation forces stationed there often threw away the tail and the tongue, so one restaurant owner decided to use this cheap cut of beef at his restaurant. The restaurant became popular, and now, it's seen in just about every yakiniku restaurant in Japan.

I like the idea of Sendai and gyutan; It shows the people's resilience in tough times, the ability to make the most of what they have, and prosper. Let's hope the spirit of gyutan in Sendai, Tohoku, and the rest of Japan still lives on.

detour to japan

So, after three years in Japan, what skills do I have to show for it? 

... Yeah, I'm not quite too sure either. While some friends specialise in law, or accounting, all that I seem to have expertise in is teaching English to Japanese students, which isn't as useful or transferable as you'd think it would be.

It does, however, make me qualified and experienced enough to do what every other other Melbourne JET seems to do when they come back to Australia; write an article for the local Japanese language newspaper. Trying to avoid the typical narrative of a foreigner finding themselves in a strange and exciting new environment, I decided to go a different route. You know, write something a little more cultured and learned, much like many of the posts on this blog. 

I guess if my current career pursuits reach a dead end, I could always consider a career in writing in some way shape or form... Once my article about well-hung green characters sets the Melbourne-based, Japanese literary world on fire, that is. 

sukiyaki western django

Hey blog, long time no see. Sorry bout that. It's not you, really. It's me. It's just hard to find stuff to blog about when you're looking for work and spend most of your time with Ellen and Dr. Phil. And as much as I like Ellen and watching movies, I don't really feel it's quite as blogworthy compared to traveling or life in Japan.

But coming back from the cinema and switching on the TV, I felt the need to blog again after seeing a movie that reminded me of Japan. It was one that I had seen on DVD when I was there with a few friends, but being a Japanese movie without subtitle options made it a bit hard to fully understand everything that goes on in the movie.

Especially when the cowboy starts quoting Shakespeare.

Yep. Japanese cowboys and Shakespeare. With a touch of Quentin Tarrantino. It's also completely in English, but with the patchy and varying English language abilities of the cast, it's a little hard to follow when some of the actors go into their monologues. Subtitles do help though, especially when they're occasionally poorly translated and add to the entertainment value.

Favourite scene: The antagonist, Kiyomori  (who insists on being called 'Henry'), finds himself up against a travelling priest who whips out his gatling gun.

Oh Japan. Who knew that watching cowboys with boyband haircuts speaking questionable English would make me miss you so much?

rice paddies and old ladies

Okay, so one of the primary reasons for me travelling to the North of Honshu was to see Jesus, it was also a way to check off the Tohoku region from my checklist of places I've visited in Japan. Going there, I can now say I've visited all of the main regions of Japan, as well as visiting more than half of all the prefectures in Japan too.

But other than Jesus, what else is there to actually see in Tohoku? Sure they've got a couple festivals that are quite famous, but if I mistime my trip, will there be other famous attractions? I asked some of the other teachers and friends what there was to see, and they all replied with the same thing.

Inaka. In other words, "The country. Middle of nowhere. Bumpkintown." Some of the other more tactful teachers told me that it was a wonderful place to go to see nature, which is essentially a kinder way of saying there's nothing to see.

And, turns out, they were right. It was very inaka. Rice fields and greenery stretched out far into the horizon, and the high-rise buildings were fewer and further between. Deciding to embrace the "nature" or middle of nowhere-aspect, I figured I should make my way to Inakadate see some rice fields while I was in Northern Honshu.

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. And when life gives you rice fields, you make giant pictures of Yoshitsune and Benkei, right? It was about a 45 minute walk from the station, and with the amount of sightseers from around Aomori, climbing the one biggish building in Inakadate just to see this rice field, it did mean I only had enough time to see the ricefields for about ten minutes, but it was totally worth it.

Incidentally, it was also the time I realised one of the benefits of traveling alone; You can be as poorly planned as you want, and not have to worry about annoying or disappointing anyone else. I looked up the previous night how to get to Inakadate by train, and just assumed I could get there once I arrived at the station. It's essentially like assuming you can walk to Tokyo Tower once you get off at Tokyo Station. I'm sure there probably was a better way to get there by bus or something had I researched or asked around, but despite the heat, I did enjoy the freedom of finding my way there.

It turns out, as a random walking around a small village alone, it does draw some attention, as I found out from an old lady waiting at the train station. She saw me walking to the station, and wondered what I was doing in such a small town. Or, that's what I assumed she was asking about. I also found out that Northern Honshu has its own dialect; one which is incomprehensible to even Japanese speakers from other areas in Japan. Fortunately, I have a little experience bluffing my way through conversations, so I got out of the conversation looking like I knew what she was talking about. I hope.

pilgrimage to shingo

I'm not really a religious person, but when people ask me what I want to see before I leave Japan, I always answer with the same thing: Jesus. Not in the metaphorical sense, or in the spiritual sense of finding Jesus inside of myself or anything. I'm talking about Jesus' final resting place, which as everyone knows, is here in Japan.

Yes, Jesus' final resting place is in Shingo Village, in Japan, far away from major tourist places, meaning if you are going to go by public transport, it involves catching a bus from the "nearest" train station, and changing buses a couple times before you get there. The buses don't run frequently either, so if you don't time it right either, you're kinda screwed, like my case. I ended up giving up on the public transport option and just renting a car for a few hours, which did turn out to be more expensive than I thought. Then again, no one said this pilgrimage to Jesus' grave would be easy.

What's that you say? He was crucified? Oh no, I'm sure you're just confused. Jesus wasn't crucified- his brother was. You know, Isukiri. Isukiri, Jesus' oft-neglected brother, altruistically sacrificed himself in place of Jesus while Jesus fled to Japan. After which, Jesus married a Japanese woman and became a garlic farmer (And awesome one at that apparently, but I'm sure that was a given he was the Son of God), where he lived until the ripe old age of 106.


While there though, I also found this: Garlic flavoured ice cream. Probably in part to Jesus' mad garlic farming skillz, Aomori prefecture is now famous for its garlic. I kinda had to try it for the same reasons I went to the obscure village in the first place; such a weird combination of two different things, I had to try it just to see what it was like.

don't look at me!

I really wondered what it looked like to all the people that drove or cycled past my apartment the morning I left. I was sitting on the couch in a completely bare, dark apartment, staring out the window. Or, staring out where all the windows would be. All the windows and curtains were removed so the landlord could clean them and prepare for the next tenant moving into my apartment in the next couple of days. All my belongings were packed up in bags in preparation for starting my travels around Japan. I couldn't really go anywhere either, since I was waiting for my former English teacher to come pick me up and take me to the station. My electricity and gas had been switched off that morning, so I couldn't watch TV or even turn on the lights. Going to the bathroom involved a dilemma; close the door and use the toilet in complete darkness, or open the door and let passers by see what you're doing?

I was glad when an hour passed and my teacher finally came. She did question what I was doing in a windowless apartment, but I did explain the whole situation. If only I could've done the same thing to the three cyclists and two drivers as well.

sightseeing: j-style

Yep, I'm officially a Japanese tourist. I wonder if it bodes well that my very first day sightseeing during my final tour of Japan has shown that I've fully assimilated into the life of a J-tourist.

Evidence 1: My shiny new DSLR camera with neck strap, ready to snap pictures of anything picturesque without a single moment of hesitation.

Evidence 2: My Japanese tour guide; glove-clad, and microphone in hand to tell us all facts about everything and anything on our tour.

Evidence 3: My Japanese tour group. The only thing missing from this tour group however, was the flag the Japanese tour guide was to wave for stragglers and the vertically-challenged to see where the tour group was going. However, I guess that was remedied by:

Evidence 4: My J-tour badge. For any situations I become separated from the pack.

Being a Japanese tour, it involved a tight schedule and limited time for self exploration at the places we stopped off at. I shouldn't complain though, since I was only in Kagoshima for one morning, and figured it was the best way to see the main sights before leaving around lunchtime anyway.

It also helps seeing I didn't even know what there was to see in Kagoshima anyway. Essentially, I was just going there because it was the southernmost part of the main islands of Japan, and I was wanting to head to Aomori, which is in the northernmost part of the main island. I had 11 days to use my 14-day JR pass, so figured i might as well make the most of it. Just like how I kind skip meals before going a buffet to gorge myself, I figured if I was going to get an all-you-can-use ticket for Japan, I'm going to make the most of it.

So what is there to see? Well, I've yet to see that too. Kagoshima does have Sakurajima, an island that houses an active volcano that still spews dust and smoke every now and then. unfortunately, the day I was there, the weather wasn't the best. So while some people saw this,

I saw this.

Oh well, can't complain. At least i have photo evidence (and marimokkori) to show I've been there!

goodbye gifu

It's done. Over. Finished. My time on JET has officially come to an end as of Thursday. I still can't believe that three years passed like that. And although the numerous farewell parties with people I met over the years should have been enough to remind me that I'm leaving, it was only when I was cleaning my apartment, seeing it gradually get emptier and emptier, did it really make it seem more real that I would be going back to Australia. Sifting through my junk that I had accumulated over the years and trying to decide which items I should keep for sentimental value and which I should throw away. It was difficult, since it seemed like I could keep everything for sentimental reasons, but when it gets to the point you're thinking "Awww, this is the moist towelette I got at my first sushi train place!", you know you've probably got to be a bit more selective.

While I was removing some photos from my bedroom wall, I figured it was about time to remove the post card that was stuck in the top right corner of one of the walls. It had been there since I got there, and since it was in a corner of the room right above my bed, I never really paid much attention to it, nor could I ever be bothered removing it either.

Taking it off the wall, I realised it wasn't addressed to either of the two previous tenants before me, meaning that it's been up there in the apartment for at least seven or eight years. Crazy to think that JET ALTs have been living in that apartment for about a decade. And yet, I know exactly what salsa party they're talking about, since I was invited to go to the one in Nagoya a few months after I got here too. It reminded me of how life will continue on in my city in Motosu even after I'm gone, and the cycle of JETs will begin again, experiencing the same events and feelings I felt while I was there.

After reading it, I kinda felt bad that I had taken it down, and so put it back up to where I found it. I just felt like I was ruining the whole cycle. I wonder if the next person to live in the apartment will feel the same way, or just take it down straight away.

the end. ish.

Yep, I knew it was going to happen eventually. The end of my time as a JET in Gifu is fast approaching, as I now am realising each lunch outing to one of my favourite restaurants may turn out to be my last.  Last week was the end of another semester of school, and while I was quite sad to be leaving my original school of two and a half years, I felt equally sad to be leaving a school I had only been at for four months.

I wasn't expecting to say goodbye at this school to be so difficult. After all, I had said my 'real' farewell speech in April to my old school, and this time, it felt insincere compared to my previous one. What was I supposed to say to students whose names I had just started to learn? I ended up copying and pasting parts of my old speech into a newish one, but my heart really didn't feel that into it.

And then it came to actually saying it in front of everyone. Saying goodbye while looking into a crowd of kids you've seen every day for the past few months isn't as easy I thought it would be. To make matters worse (or better, depending on your perspective), one of my favourite students, Ren, was then called to the stage to read out his speech before another one of my favourites students presented me with flowers and three books worth of letters from students.

 I don't like doing things by halves, and leaving now, just as kids are coming out of their shells and just as I'm getting attached to them, it feels like I've still got so much more to achieve and prove at this school before I can go. But then again, I'm sure I'd feel the same way had I stayed for another year and had to do my farewell speech in the middle of the school year again.

pffft... books.

I find being in Japan as a good enough justification as to why I don't read much. First of all, it's not like there's an English book store that's even close to me, and when I do stumble upon a bookstore that has a foreign language book section, their selection is pretty limited.

That being said, I have attempted to read Japanese books here, though to varying degrees of success. I chose my books in the same way as I'd choose what books to read back in Australia: If they've made a movie out of it, no matter how bad the movie is, chances are the book is good. There must be a reason why they decided to make the book into a movie in the first place, right?


My first attempt, The Homeless Student, started after seeing the preview trailer at the cinemas as well as seeing some of my students reading the book between classes. I figured it was a good place to start; it was an autobiography about a Japanese comedian who became homeless around junior high school. It couldn't be that hard, I thought. After all, the students are all reading it, and as an autobiography about a student, it couldn't be that hard, right?

I ended up finishing the book 9 months later.  Nine months. People have babies in that time. Hell, I could have had a baby in that time, if I wasn't so busy reading that stupid book (Yes, the book is the sole reason I was not able to bear child, and  it was due in no part to my lack of ovaries).  In which time the movie had been released at cinemas, then finished its cinema released, and then was released on DVD. By the time I did end up watching the DVD, I had forgotten how the story started, so couldn't tell when some plot points had changed for the movie adaptation, or whether I just couldn't remember the story.

It took me another nine months just to get the motivation to start reading a book again, which was again, motivated by seeing a trailer for the movie. This one, Confessions, won a few literary awards in 2009, and set in a school, I figured would be easier than a more abstract novel or something.

Well, I think "literary awards" should have tipped me off about the type of language that would be in the book. Still though, I already spent a good ¥680 on a book, so not wanting to waste my money, I tried get through it.

3 full days or later, and I had read less than 50 pages. Knowing I wouldn't be able to finish the book in time to watch the movie at the cinemas, I ended up going to see it last week. It turned out to be a pretty good movie, despite the occasional monologues characters had explaining their motivations (I'm sure they would have been good, had I understood them). And, I still have no idea what exactly the catchphrase is of the antagonist that was repeated throughout the movie. But yes, definitely a movie I would watch again.

It was however, disheartening to find that, what had taken me three full days of non-stop reading to learn was explained in the movie within the first 15 minutes. And knowing that it'd probably take at least another 9 months to find out what I had just seen in the movie. Maybe I should just give up and work on that whole baby thing instead. Ovaries, Shmovaries. I'm sure it'd still be easier than finishing the book.

farewell, fuyu

Goodbye Japanese winter. As much as I loathed the lack of central heating in Japan, and the paper-thin walls that provided little insulation in my apartment, I will miss you. A bit. I'm still traumatised from the time I attempted to cycle home in the snow on icy roads, and just the thought of the smell of kerosene heaters still makes me nauseous, but believe it or not, there are some things I do actually like about you. 

• Kotatsu - For what Japan lacked in central heating, it made up for with this ingenious heated coffee table, with a blanket that went over the sides to keep the heat in. Some nights were so cold that you could see your breath, but it didn't seem to matter when your feet were warmly tucked under the coffee table and being covered by the blanket. It was a bit dangerous though, since once you were covered by the kotatsu, it was hard to come back out and face the cold of the room. There were many nights I contemplated taking up hibernating under this thing, but gave up once I couldn't find a way to keep my food supply within reach. 
• Heated toilet seats - Sure, I hated the nightly ritual of bolting out of the shower to get changed in a freezing room, but I did find solace knowing my butt wouldn't get hypothermia.
• Strawberries - It may sound weird, but prior to coming to Japan, I never had strawberries that really tasted like strawberries. You can find strawberries in Australia, but there's also a good chance they're sour, and if they are sweet, they don't compare at all to the ones here. I now realise what that artificial strawberry flavour is supposed to taste like. 

So, goodbye strawberries, heated coffee tables, and technologically-advanced toilet seats, and hello juicy peaches,  food-filled festivals, and uh...  giant cockroaches. Almost forgot about them. At least I leave Japan on a high note, right?

i really should stop lying to friendly people.

Sure, I've been in Japan for a while now (almost *gulp* three years) but my Japanese still isn't completely fluent. I can get by, and have fairly standard conversations with most people about weather and weekends, and after a couple years of watching English being taught in Japanese, I can tell you what passive affirmative sentences are and what past participles are in Japanese as well.

For all the stuff that I don't know though, I've developed a few Japanese conversational survival techniques that probably don't help my Japanese improve in the long run. As I've mentioned before, I'm pretty much able to deal with a conversation with a 4-year-old using only a few words and phrases. Unfortunately, it is much harder to fake a conversation with anyone older than a preschooler. My original tactic was to say "yes" to anything in agreement to what people said, until eventually, someone would ask me a question that I was supposed to say "no" to. Saying yes to this response was usually met by the other person giving me a strange look and asking "really?", which was then my cue to just laugh nervously and say "no", shrugging it off as a joke.

While my original tactic has evolved a bit, with the aid of a few new phrases under my belt,  I'm still finding situations where I don't understand what's being said to me. I could ask for the other person to repeat what they said, or say "I don't understand", but saying it too much leads to strains on the conversation and sometimes other people just giving up on making conversations. Which is why, as I realised today, I revert to using my conversational survival techniques. Well, that's what I call them anyway. I think some people prefer to use the term "lying".

One teacher came up to me today and struck up a conversation about books and Australia.

Teacher: "So, I noticed the students are somethingsomethingilly reading their books today.
Me: (nervous laughter) Yeah, they do that, don't they?
(Technique #5: Nervous laughter makes any wrong answers sound like they were meant to be a joke)

T: So what are students in Australia like? Do they somethingsomethingilly read their books too?
Me: Well, yeah, I wonder.
(#12: Ambiguous statements about own opinion)
I think so, but they're a bit different to Japanese students.
(#2: Always mention the differences in culture when asked to talk about something)

T: Oh really, so how do they study and read books?
Me: Um, good question. Well...
T: Oh, do they blahblahblah?
Me: (laughing) Yeah, they do.
T: What!? Seriously? Do they somethingsomething or blahblahblah?
Me: Yes. blahblahblah.
(#8: Repeat the last thing that's mentioned when given a choice between two or more things)
T: So you're telling me you can see classes of students just blahblahblahing?
Me: (more nervous laughter) um... yes. Yes they do.

Fortunately for me, the conversation ended soon after that, and I was relieved that made it through a conversation talking about something I don't even know, quietly proud that my advanced survival techniques got me through another conversation.

That was, until the same teacher gave me a lift to a bar the next day.

Teacher: Okay, let's be honest. You sometimes have no idea what you're talking about do you?
Me: ...No. No I don't.

confessions of a karaokeholic

"Man, I haven't been to karaoke for ages!"

Thinking this to myself as I sit at my desk, daydreaming, I was really feeling the urge to do karaoke. I never really went to karaoke back home in Australia, and wouldn't be caught dead singing on front of a group of people back home, especially ones that I didn't know. I never really hated singing at school, but I was too nervous to sing in front of other people I would just mouth the words or sing under my breath when we had to sing the school songs. For me, it's kinda like talking to other people when you're in a public bathroom. When other people try to strike up conversations in the bathroom, no matter how friendly they're trying to be, I can't help but answer in short, curt responses. I just feel it's inherently wrong and something no one in their right mind should do.

Karaoke has kinda changed all that now I guess (the singing in public thing, not the bathroom conversation thing. Still working on that). Turns out is a good skill to have, especially when you find yourself doing English songs with your classes and singing The Beetle's "Hello Goodbye" about 15 times a week.

I don't know what makes singing songs with your friends so fun though. I guess as the only pastime possible in a city that doesn't house any clubs or fancy bars, I now just associate going out and having a good time with friends with singing songs stuck in my head in a dimly lit room. So has it really been that long since I've gone out with friends and then, If I'm feeling so melodically frustrated that I'm dying to get my kumbayayas out? I glance at my calendar and backtrack to work out the last time I went.

Three weeks. Less than a month since my last visit and I'm this desperate to go to karaoke. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm totally screwed when I go back home.

let the staring commence. again.

So as I previously mentioned, I'm now at a new school since the start of April this year, when the new school year begins in Japan, perfectly coinciding with the cherry blossoms being in bloom. And sure, my school students didn't have the best reputation in the city, but after two and a half years with them, they were my students. So needless to say, I was quite sad to find out that I would be spending my last four months working in Japan with a whole new bunch of students and trying to start forming relationships with all of them from scratch once again.

That being said, it is like a second chance to start again, and helps me gain perspective on things. I can finally experience first hand what these other schools are like when they're not just focused on getting kids to not run out of class. I also get to distinguish what may be the general Japanese-school culture and what was specific to my previous school. Teachers at this new school are so... positive. It's weird. I feel slightly cynical as I just have a hunch that there are way more personal conflicts than I can see at the moment. But, I do hope my cynicism fades and I realise that they're just all happy and good at my school.

Also, starting again makes me realise how much I've changed since I started the first time. No longer am I nervous about getting in front of a class and talking. I came fresh out of uni and without a single good, relevant idea on what to teach these kids, and now I'm pulling ideas out of my butt for activities. Oh, and hate to toot my own horn, but I feel I've mastered the art of introducing myself, and I swear I've already beaten the other English teachers at my school at the self-introduction-off.

Unfortunately, I think I may have been trying to  repress my memories of being stared at, and now at this new school, it's all coming back to me now. I think regular teachers here can strike up a rapport with students fairly quickly, and students feel at ease with them straight away. For me, I think there's the worry for them that they can't speak to me, or I'm a freak since I'm foreign. Also, kids don't know if I speak Japanese, and not being confident in their English makes them super awkward as well. I can't blame them - I don't know what the official stance is on whether or not they want me to speak to the kids in Japanese, so usually I just nod, and say things in English all the time. Which leads to the stares, awkward glances, and avoiding eye contact. Oh fun.

You know that feeling you have when you think people are talking about you behind your back, but you quietly think, "Oh, don't be so self-centered! They totally aren't talking about you!"? Well, turns out, some of them are. And, since they say it in Japanese, I'm conflicted. Do I say something back in Japanese, so they know I understand what they've said, or do I pretend I don't and ignore it, just so I can eavesdrop and learn even more?