Suddenly, everything has changed.

I love you Internet, for keeping me in touch with home.

I hate you Internet, for keeping me in touch with home. 

Rice planting season. They have ceremonies for the beginning (or slightly after the beginning) of the season. The women dress in Kimono, and stand in knee deep mud and water planting rice, while the men pound drums, play flutes and juggle some sort of crazy stick. We received an invite last Sunday to visit a rice festival. The planting started at 10am, and at 5:30 there was a party to celebrate. So being the lazy foreigners we are we wound up at the party in the evening, but missed the planting. I regret this now, but had no clue what I was missing at the time. 

I had met a woman named Naomi at my sports festival (see below, me running like an ass.) her and her husband (and their four children!) live in a Buddhist temple north of the town I teach in. My good friend Adam teaches her kids at one of his schools. They like foreigners, and speak really impressive English. So they asked us to come out and visit the town festival. We showed up prior to Naomi getting there...therefore upon entry into the party, we met about a dozen terrified faces staring back at us. They had no clue what we planned on doing there, or how we got invited. But of course, this is Japan...they cant deny us, (they could...actually...) nor do they grasp enough English to ask exactly why we are there.  So we nervously entered and sat down at a open table. 

Pretty quickly one of the locals came and asked us who we are and who we know. He was being polite about it, as it only takes about three seconds of talking to Adam, Ryan or myself to realize we come in peace. He understood that we know Naomi, and Adam teaches next door, and like that we became guests of honor. Of sorts. 

I was driving our group of Gaijin, and therefore could not drink. However, everyone else at the party seemed alright with drinking, and proceeded to. Heavily. I have come to find this is a "Drinking Culture" but they just cant handle it the same way we can. They were sauced early on.  But quickly after our delicious meal (complete with plenty of curious guests sitting by us for a few moments.) came some more drinking, and a famous Shimasen player from Tokyo put on a concert for us. How she wound up playing in this tiny town hall is beyond me. (click this link...she was not the blonde woman. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YhtXZAFom7A )

This concert became a sing along with all the participants, and after she let the three of us play her guitar. Ryan pulled out some Nirvana. I was very impressed. 

For a few hours after the concert we found ourselves talking with literally everyone at the party. One of the planners came over and asked Ryan and I to talk some sense into his daughter. Apparently she had no "direction" in life. She just graduated High School, and had no job or plans for college. I mostly talked with her about pop-stars I didn't even know about from America. I failed. Ryan really wanted to reach this kid. He quasi-adopted her.

At one point one of the locals was trying to offer me a drink. I denied. He said "you are right, it is not safe to drink and drive, the police station is next door."

I laughed and said "Yes I know."

He replied, "But the police officer is over there." and pointed to a belligerently drunk man rolling backwards onto the floor a few tables down. 

If these sorts of things keep happening to me, it is going to be quite difficult to pry myself away and come home.

Bipolar

I guess I am at the stage in which I should be missing home. It's hard to say though, my correspondence with Minnesota is hugely bipolar. I can talk with my dear friends, and my close family, and I instantly want to be home with all of you. But then a creeping cesspool of anger can still reach its slippery tentacles from Minnesota. Enough to make me glad I am far away. 

I suppose you get your good days and bad days anywhere, right? No matter if you are the "happiest" you have been in a long time. Its bound to sneak up on you occasionally. 

I had a lesson yesterday, in which I was catching a sixth grade class up to another. The class that was ahead had a game day. I had them in pairs making human shaped alphabet letters. That was possibly the single most hilarious thing I have ever seen. Lord I don't think I will forget the letter "F" for a long time. A particularly fat kid had his friend on his shoulders, his friend stuck out his arms, while the chubby guy stuck out his. It was perfect. I couldn't imagine a better F.

Which reminds me. Every day on my ride in to my schools I take the same highway. And everyday I see this massive man on a Scooter making his way in my direction. It never fails, rain or shine, this fat man is riding his scooter down highway 54, towards Hiroshima. I eagerly anticipate this passing. He looks like he is very comfortable with his appearance. I can get behind that. He wears this little helmet, and sticks his legs so far out on each side of that scooter, he looks a bit like a penis. I laugh every time he goes past me. I saw him on Friday, in pouring rain, looking positively miserable on that ride. But he still brightened my day. I hope to meet this man someday. 

This is a confusing country, full of confusing people. Both local and Gaijin alike. 

I am lucky in that I seem to be able to get away with murder as far as the language is concerned. I don't know as much Japanese as some of my friends here, I am learning but it is slow. However, most of my schools and teachers are alright with my lack of knowledge. In fact, I would argue that they think it is charming. At least so far. It certainly wouldn't hurt to learn more though. 

Every spring the schools have a Sports Day. They practice their asses off, and spend a day on a weekend playing games in front of the parents. I cant begin to describe how much fun these days are. Imagine the old elementary activity day, where we had track and field, relays, long jump, etc. Except here the sports are things like pushing giant balls around, or chasing after your English teacher who is wearing a laundry bin on his back and throwing balls in it. Or singing chants at the other half of the school. I wish I knew what these chants meant, I assume they are insightful, but just watching them changed my life.  I am so thankful for those little smiling faces. They bring a steady warmth to this often ridiculously dramatic world. 

Doesn't want to miss a thing.

It only took me about 10 years, but I made it to Japan. 

I think I got here a little late. I should have left a long time ago. I would have saved a lot of energy, and a lot of friendships. 

But I am here now. Right now. About as happy as I have ever been. I came here to figure out who I am when I am alone. Without the backbone that I developed over the years in my friends and family, and I am starting to realize I kind of like that person. I do miss that Minnesota backbone, how couldn't I? But it's nice to see what I am capable of without it.

Immediately on landing I was thrust into a entirely new world of uncertainty, and confusion. I manage to live my life on the border of a happy state of numb confusion most of the time anyways, but this is different. I couldn't figure out what was going on those first few days if I wanted to.  Right off the plane I was surrounded by foreign. Everything was different, just like that. It seems like a world away, and it has only been two months. I can't imagine where I will be in a year. So much opportunity for growth. 

I would go into stories involving the life I have lived over the last few months, but I think I have explained it to most people as it is. I will just try my best to summarize. 

I immediately began to loathe foreigners in Japan. Self loathing? I suppose. I met some Australians the first night here, one of them was asking for the toilet. He sat there grabbing his dick saying "I need to WEE WEE."  I don't know much, but I think Toilet is pretty universal. I told him that. He didn't approve. 

The drive to Hiroshima (via bus) was an experience in itself. I was the only passenger on that bus, and I spent the whole time smiling. The driver kept looking back at me and laughing. I would crest a hill and let out an audible "ooooooooooooohhhh....." with a shit-eating grin on my face. I was taking pictures of hillsides and traffic signs. I was the perfect tourist. When he dropped me off I asked him where my hotel was. He had no clue, so I cut off in the complete wrong direction. I dragged all of my earthly belongings behind me as I shuffled acros busy streets and through the stares of countless Japanese. Wondering what the hell I was doing. I was finally stopped by an old man.

"Where you from?" He asked.

"America!" I said with an ounce of shame.

"Ahhhh! Texas!" He replied. 

I smiled, and said "Close. Minnesota!" He looked at me utterly confused. 

"Thats okay...you are very handsome." and he walked away. Apparently Texas is all there is in America. Thank you Bush. 

I spent the next two days entirely alone. At a Hotel I thought was intended for me by my company. When we finally started training, I met all of the other trainees in the lobby and we started off to our meet-up. Turns out I was in the wrong hotel this whole time. I would have had my accommodations covered, but those are minor details...right? The wounds from that are still fresh, after two months. In fact, they might be infected. 

Training was wild. I met some amazing people who I think I will be close with for the rest of my life. It takes a certain kind to drop everything that is comfortable and move to a strange foreign country. Especially in a company that is so uncertain, and a profession with literally no definitive answers as this. I did not know where I was living until the first day of training. They did not have an apartment for me until the day I was leaving for it. I didn't have a car, or even know what schools or how many I would be teaching in until I moved to my new home. We all are in the same boat. Almost everyone had that same bit of uncertainty. Maximum respect to all of these people. 

Since training I have begun my new profession. It is literally one of the best experiences of my life. I love my job on a level I did not know I could. I go into class every day with a massive smile. I almost dance down the halls, and (literally) sing my way through most lessons. I could not be happier. It used to be said when describing me by someone who knows me well that I had a deep darkness inside. I lost it. Unless trouble from home is brewing, I am shamelessly happy. I smile and laugh all day long. This is therapy. I wish everyone could do this for a year.

I plan on making it more than one year. I don't want to stop so soon.