this is very japanese

etoooooooo ne...eeeeehhh!?

the drunk business man passed out on the train...this is very japanese















the girl who sits next to you at a coffee shop and pulls out an electric curling iron...this is very japanese.

the shirts in strange engrish, usually offering some strange sexual suggestion...this is very japanese














children (or adults) dressed as cartoon characters or animals...this is very japanese







(by the way: these outfits are placed next to the lingerie)










pickled anything and fish on a stick...this is very japanese



















really really short skirts with boots and really really big hair for girls. really really white boots and pink leapord shirts for boys...this is very japanese.

bars and restaurants crammed into one tiny office building, with a tiny sign outside that makes it impossible to find a place if you're actually looking for it...this is very japanese.
















hostesses wearing thin dresses in the cold while bowing to a group of departing businessmen repeatedly, as if the bobbing warms them up...this is very japanese.

littles in really kawaii outfits...this is very japanese













puppies for 235,000 yen...this is very japanese

bling...cell phones, belt buckles, boots, jeans, fingernails. if it's got surface area and you can put jewels on it, it needs bling....this is very japanese












a high pitched phone voice and a costume to sell electronics...this is very japanese








getting really red and falling on the floor OR pretending to be mickey mouse when you get wasted....this is VERY japanese

meri kurisumasu

i knew if i didn't get my act together, i wouldn't leave nagoya for christmas and that would depress me. though it was a risk that i would be alone for christmas, i decided to take off and travel through kansai for the holidays. as you know this is a huge gamble because it depends so much on who happens to be in the same hostel as you or who you happen to meet at a coffee shop.

osaka

for such a cosmpolitan city, osaka is very confusing. unlike other japanese cities, osakans walk on the other side of the street and stand on the other side of the escalator. this is pretty confusing, considering, as an an american, i'm conciously trying to follow traffic as the japanese drive. also, unlike most japanese cities, they don't have signs romanji or provide maps in english are addresses in either language. lucikly, my amazing sense of observation triumphed and i found my way by following everyone else. i dumped my bag at my hostel and wandered around osaka-ekis looking for the umeda sky building. what i found there was so bizarre, i should have expected it: a german christmas village set up at the bottom of the building featuring a huge christmas tree and js stuffing themselves with bratwurst and sauerkraut while taking pictures of the miniature snowman placed on a throne in a roped off section of the village. gotta love the randomness of japan sometimes- you never know what you're going to find after a wonderful dinner with my friend's family and a failed attempt at riding the world's largest ferris wheel, i head back to my hostel satisfied at my christmas eve. only when i got there, the hostel kids were partying with calpis and chuhai, so i joined in and kicked off for a very merry christmas eve. we planned a christmas breakfast and christmas carol karaoke, but that wasn't in the cards for me.
instead, i spent christmas morning at the vietnamese embassy trying to get a visa (since i'm only in osaka today and i had to get in while i was in town) it was only 2 hours, but it was really frightening: the room was barren and the face of the employees were stark. it was the epitome of statism at its best- cold and calculated. the english forms were behind the desk, but the man wouldn't talk to me until it was my turn so i couldn't start filling out the form. then when i borrowed a pen, i was lectured on not returning it promptly and putting the glue and scissors in the wrong place (which ironically was where i had found them) i can't say that i was shocked, but i felt compelled to call him "sir" and sit up straight in my chair. so when i left, i made a point of telling him merry christmas, even though my new friend the college professor from San Francisco reminded me that "communists don't celebrate christmas!" so i missed the group, but my friend willow arrived shortly after and we made our way to kobe, eating our american christmas feast of mcdonald's on the train, earning us looks of disgust and complete shock for our lack of manners.

kobe

my hostel was hidden above a car repair shop in a pretty industrial neighborhood, but when i went inside it turned out to be just charming. willow and i befriended a few hostellers and we went through the neighborhood sake breweries for sake tasting. 7 factories, countless glasses and a detailed guided tour later, we made our way to harborland: kobe's port amusement park. willow, taro and i got on the kobe ferris wheel with a bottle of sake and toasted to christmas while overlooking the port with it's crazy modern buildings and lights. we found a great restaurant with a view of the water and feasted on grilled hamburgers and beer. willow went back to osaka and taro and i drank chuhai on the steps of kobe dears' backpackers.
so the next day, we borrowed bikes and tried to ride to the cable car to visit arima onsen. this mission was seriously flawed in that the cable car is almost impossible to find, which is why people take buses up there. after climbing 2 mountains, screwing up and soaring down them at at top speed, we finally got to the cable car. we took it up to mount rokko and had a coffee at the top of the mountain as the sunset over kobe and revealed the lights of the city. from there we rode our bikes back down the mountain without having to peddle once. we then went to chinatown for gyoza and to the trendy district in search of gaylord, the indian restaurant, which is really funny when you start asking people for directions. (garlord wa doko desu ka?)

around the world- tokyo in 24 hours

this trip definitely gave clarity to the phrase, scratch the surface. i realize that to go to tokyo for 24 hours is a little on the crazy side, but the purpose of this trip was to see daft punk, which alone was worth the trip!

i was about to blow it off with my million excuses: too expensive, too difficult, too much to do alone. well, then my friend martin called and told me he and his friends were going to do it and i was welcome to come along. we left nagoya at 10 pm on an overnight sleeper bus and arrived in tokyo at 5 am, just in time to make our way to tsukiji for the freshest catch of the day. we ate the world's best tuna nigiri: toro, the belly of the tuna, for 800 yen a piece. worth every savory, melty cent!




from there we went to the imperial garden and wandered around the city's electronic district, made our way to shibuya for the classic "lost in translation" video moment. we watched hundreds of people flood the intersection, crossing through innumerable ads featuring cameron diaz the softbank poster girl and will smith (pronounced uiu sumisu in katakana). thierry and i ran from the shinjuku station, attempting to outrun the sunset. defeated, we took out a stiff bottle of gin and drank on the steps of the government building until martin and daniel arrived. we went up into the government building and peered over the entire expanse of tokyo city. it spanned for miles: purple and orange lights creating a dreamy effect on the city.


once we found our hostel and took showers, we made our way out on the town- down shinjuku dori and then to roppongi where we danced all night. the bar was so packed, it was impossible to move without being shoved, so i took shelter atop the bar and convinced some of the bartenders to hook a girl up. so we returned to the hostel around 5 in the morning, thus completing one full circle of 24 hours non-stop tokyo.

the next morning we took our trains to get to the venue for dafunk fest: daft punk in tokyo. mathieu had brought a bottle of whiskey and since some silly j had not shown up for work with the tickets (an unheard of japanese error), and all the gaijin were stuck in a line waiting for their etickets while innumerable js, who had been smart enough to buy their tickets at the circle k, walked right in, we decided to keep warm with whiskey cider. this lightened the mood considerably. once we finally arrived inside, we saw a japanese electronic band play that had an animation film behind them which coincided with the music they made. the film was crazy: two chinese dragons come to life from a shrine and fly around, then dive into the sea and chase sea life around. it was like pixar meets dj shadow- cntrl would have loved it!!














the show had 10,000 people in the venue and it felt like it when the pyramid was revealed. i was smashed against a sea of people who errupted in screams when, "television rules the nation" sounded out over us. the set was unreal. the lights were unreal. the energy was unreal. it's hard to put something like that into words- which is why man invented the camera with video capacity.

so, without a doubt, this has been the highlight of my trip to japan. i enjoyed every second of my intense tokyo weekend. i'm going back for new years, so i'll be sure to add all the lovely details of crazy j parties and ridiculous outfits; like the hostesses dressed as sexy santa. its to die for funny!

matheson hammock

i remember my heart swelled up that night and i erupted into an aria. we had ridden our bicycles like two small children down banyan-lined streets, their branches twisting toward the sky, forming coves and hiding places. admiring homes and imagining what our lives would be like in those places until the streets led us to the park, void of all human breath save the guard sleeping behind the gate. we wound around the yachts and the mangrove thickets, emerging at the lagoon- silver in the moonlight- beyond which we could see the lights of downtown and the beach. the distance was comforting. we climbed on the coral rocks and looked into the silver water, then mounted our bikes and rode, the moon shining from our t shirts and the blondest flecks of our hair. i pedaled fast to match my joy until the release became a song. the music was born from the most beautiful part of me and it rose above the wetland mangroves and into the humid air.

top ten most ironic things about japanese

10- as obsessed as they are with separating their recyclables, they end up in the same can.

9- single girls pulling out wireless curling irons at coffee shop tables to fix their hair while most married women dress in plaid aprons.

8- excellent public transportation, all of which stops at midnight- why the party rep? i guess that's why you can sleep in internet cafes!

7- you can't book anything online- that would jeopardize the jobs of people who aren't as efficient as computers.

6- there is a form for everything- which must be filled out correctly and fingerprinted or stamped if imperfect. this process can take up to 6 hours to complete because someone has to find the form in a filing cabinet and someone else has to write and stamp everything. (see point 7)

5- but didn't js invent computers?

4- japanese don't have central air or heat because they are worried about effects on the environment- because it's more important for your the environment to be a little less inconvenienced than your sweating or freezing family.

3- ovens and dryers are not standard japanese equipment- which makes housework more tedious, thus housewives more necessary. see point 6.

2- you must take your shoes off everywhere, which is more sanitary than sticking your feet in communal slippers. ( i know a girl who got a foot fungus from that). you can't wear your shoes inside BUT you can wear the slippers outside and come back inside without changing them (?)

1- public bathrooms have either heated toilet seats or you're squatting over a hole in the ground. no soap. no toilet paper. if those things bother you, carry your own. but isn't this supposed to be a sanitary country?

feast for the eyes

thanksgiving came and went without even realizing it. i happened to glance at my computer where my friend roger had left me a thanksgiving message and it dawned on me that i had missed the holiday. no matter- this year thanksgiving was a visual experience because i got to see the legendary leaves change in kyoto.

i desperately needed to get out of nagoya, so i woke up at 4:30 and took the first train out to kyoto. as the sun rose, we passed through gifu and i could see the snow touched sky slopes and the leaves beginning to turn. my train twisted itself through mountain passes and persimmon orchards and i felt freedom like a physical change in my body. i felt like wordsworth, gaining strength by leaving the stink of the city behind.
kyoto has 17 world heritage sites, which means they have historical significance and are recognized by the UN. throughout the weekend, i would visit about seven of them and take five hundred photos. my friend jonah greeted me at the train station with his friends toyota and mari. we dropped off my luggage and were right off to our first sight, Tenryu-Ji. this temple was constructed in 1339 when Emporer Go-Daigo had a nightmare about a dragon. This site was supposed to ward off the danger from the dream with its spectacular gardens. the pond had coy as long as my forearm and overlooked the changing mountains. after this, we strolled through the crowds along kyoto river before rendevousing with our friends at kyoto station, the controversial modern structure in japan's most historical city. from there we walked past an authentic japanese wedding to Kiyomizu-Dera which is a buddhist temple built without any nails which sits on the edge of a steep cliff. our friends tested their luck at the love shrine and drank magic water said to give you wealth and luck.














we were trapped in a crowd stampede when we cut down a side street to go spotting geisha in the gion district. i saw many maiko, or geisha in training, including an extremely rare male maiko, but i was told that to see a real geisha is extremely rare. these women are trained to host parties and entertain men with conversation and gentility, so they are too refined to be seen posing with tourists. however, i did get to see 2 real geisha walking down the street, but they were so quick on their wooden sandals that i couldn't get my camera ready in time.

the following day, jonah and i went bike riding all around kyoto. we started with Ryoan-Ji, with its famous pond and rock garden. the garden contains 15 rocks and intricate raked gravel, but i was more impressed by the trees and ducks by the pond. from there we pedaled to Ginkaku-Ji and Nijo-Jo, both of which had gorgeous leaves turning. Nijo-Jo is the imperial palace of japan, where the shogun lived. it is famous for its stunning screen paintings and its nightingale floors. these floors squeak when you walk on them so that samurai couldn't storm the palace without being detected. outside there are beautiful gardens and even a traditional tea ceremony where women in kimonos serve bowls of steaming tea and touch their foreheads to the floor before scooting away from your view of the gardens. we saw a hawk demonstration and at rice balls covered in sweet soy sauce, then continued our exploration to Maruyama-Koen and Tetsugaku-No-Michi- a stunning park and a famous walking trail called philosopher's path. the day was capped off by a night viewing of Eikan-Do, which boasts the most spectacular leaves. this shrine had gorgeous illuminations and a small performance by 6 traditional japanese musicians in front of the temple entrance.



























the next day, i was exhausted so when the crowds surged to get into Tofuku-Ji, i turned around and elbowed my way off the bridge. it really was beautiful, but not worth a fight. instead jonah and i made a picnic and wandered to Fushimi-Inari Taisha. after eating, we began the 4 km hike with no intention of finishing. we got about halfway through counting 1,875 torii, or gates, along the way. apparently, the torii were built for inari, the goddess of grain in order to bring bountiful harvest. along the trail there were many miniature shrines, figurines wearing bibs, and gravestones wrapped in red fabric. the trail had a queer peace to it, kind of creepy but tranquil nonetheless. we climbed until we found a nice lookout and sat with a small group of japanese to watch the sun set over kyoto.


















at this point, i was ready to return home and take the long trek back to reality. imagine my surprise when, after all of these glorious moments, i found a cafe du monde in the kyoto train station. so my thanksgiving trip concluded with a shining moment from home, sipping cafe au lait between the Bourbon and Bienville street signs in kyoto station.

sputnik sweetheart

last night i was in one of my reflective moods, so i curled up in my little pink couch with a cup of tea and read all day. the wind was howling outside, so intensely bitter it was strange to realize that it's only the beginning of fall. i moved to my bed, but i still couldn't keep my hands warm. it's amazing that in a country supposedly so technologically advanced, there is little trace of such things. there is no insulation, which means it's freezing in the winter and roasting in the summer. without my little electric heater, my apartment is only a little warmer than the outside.

at the end of sputnik sweetheart, i was left with another glimpse into the japanese psyche which crystallized a lot of things that i've been experiencing. here is the quote which struck me the most:

“So that’s how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that’s stolen from us- that’s snatched right out of our hands- even if we are left completely changed people with only the outer layer of our skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness.”

this author uses surrealist writing to escape consciousness, because reality is too oppressive to deal with consciously. but of course reality would be impossible to deal with if you allowed yourself to be silenced by your culture and controlled by the values of the majority instead of yourself.

i finished the book and closed it. i then went for an hour run through the streets of nagoya from imaike to sakae and back. i didn't even feel the cold or the ache of my muscles because it felt so good to be free. the wind and the chill and the time of night could not keep me in my apartment. the wild looks of the locals as ran through red lights and whipped around oblivious pedestrians didn't faze me. empowered, i took control of my emotions that night. i will not be a scream silenced by a fear of standing out of upsetting the flow of things. i will not let anything rob me of my individuality.

yakuza, kindy and nationalist propoganda

where stealing internet at my old apartment required hours of standing, the balcony of my new apartment allows me a chair and an inside look at the workings of my neighborhood. given its reputation as a yakuza neighborhood, this should be much more interesting. i see the occasional motorcycle and shiny cadillac, but nothing that lives up to bad-boy reputation that the yaks have.

when i told my boss, honda-san that i was moving to imieke, he said "i do not recommend" but it's pretty tame. there is a yakuza club down the street but it's completely silent, like a silver fortress surrounded by tinted black escalades. as i've mentioned, reputation is a lot for japanese, so i found it funny that i was dissuaded from living here when my old neighborhood, kanayama, is where the yakuza actually party.

this doesn't even account for the droves people -a few homeless scattered among wasted businessmen- sleeping on the benches in a swanky shopping center. one homeless lady who had a killer spot right by the bridge on the outskirt of the mall. she wore a different outfit everyday, always had cigarettes and recieved visitors (who were suprisingly well dressed, i might add) who squatted in her little area, joining her for tea- which she made with her range. (not sure how she powered it, but i swear i saw a rice cooker there too... i know. i don't get it either). i actually looked for her today as i passed kanayama on the train to my morning kindy class. i could barely see her gray hair behind the white fence, but i could make out a little something huddled there and i don't know why, but i was comforted.

i rode the train through kanayama and went to taiko kindy for my first morning class. i have been dreading these because jlittles have a terrible reputation for the koncho: when two fingers are aggressively trust into the bum of an unsuspecting adult. up to now, i've taught littles in manageable numbers (like 6...which was tough), but today it was a lot- 4 classes of 30 followed by my regular 2 classes: 3 and then 7 littles.

first class of the day: i am seated on the floor getting my CD for the Hokey Pokey cued up, when a young jlittle approaches and sneezes on me. i am understandably disoriented and a little grossed out when a younger, seemingly innocent jlittle girl walks up and flashed me (which is a little weird because her cooch was at eye level and way too close to my face). so i stand up to gain my distance, at which point she punches me in the vagina. yes, you heard it.

so now i have officially been punched in the vagina twice! the day continues like this with a few bits of "kawaii" stuck in there. at one point, i completely loose control of my class of 30. they are chasing each other, screaming, touching colors and skidding across the floors into furniture. the official sensei has one in her arm upside down while comforting another, cooing , "daijabu?"

i look around- the scene is absolutely absurd. so absurd in fact that i laugh out loud. " this is a disaster," i say aloud, knowing no one can understand me anyway. i walk to the far side of the room, remembering what i learned as a teacher in miami: you can never be louder than a class of kids. when you want to get their attention, speak softly.

i sit, tucking my legs under my butt and sing the itsy bitsy spider- walking the spider with my fingers, twisting and touching, while singing as softly as i can. a few almond eyes flicker my way and slowly they start to kneel around me, enthralled with my fingers and alien words. they gather around like a little flock of lambs, mimicking my fingers and hand motions. i start to laugh again.

so now there is a truck passing through my neighborhood blaring noise that's supposed to be music. it sounds like the islamic call to prayer in turkey, but not as pretty. i can't tell if it's nationalist propaganda or someone selling sweet potatoes, but the sound is harsh and unappealing. whatever it is, it's too much for me right now and too chilly on the balcony.

Tatemae vs. Honre

I was probably as low as I could possibly be when I went out for Izakaya with Atsuko and Teruzo. I was brought to this country with the promise of pay and now the company had collapsed, leaving me without pay and now my wallet had been stolen. It seems to me that the reputation of Japan has very little to do with its true nature, but with the image that Japan has portrayed through the years. Japan is obsessed with respect and honor, but beneath it all they are rude and pushy, just like every other culture. There is a tremendous air of evasion in this culture: anything goes as long as you pretend not to see it.

When you walk down the street, people lower their heads so they won’t see you and proceed to walk wherever they want. If they don’t see you then you aren’t there and they won’t be at fault if they run into you. At first you think it’s cute when the short, hunchbacked grandmothers are walking with their sunvisors lowered to the floor, but when you multiply that image into an entire population not looking, it’s impossible to get anywhere without a collision. So you too lower your head or text while you walk, and then it’s not your fault either. Evasion is an embarrassing contagion.

This theme in Japanese culture was most obvious to me when Nova started to collapse and everyone pretended that everything would be okay. The Japanese staff were paid late months in a row and denied their annual bonus, but they frowned for a second and said, “So desu ne” and continued to work for free. They put on their genky face and laughed with students, while they had gone without and waited for months for their salaries. It was shocking to me. For my Japanese staff, leaving or standing up for themselves was never even considered because they thought higher ups must know what they were doing and things would work out eventually. Well, Nova is now officially closed and they still haven’t received their wages from August which were due on September 27th. I started looking for another job immediately when I saw these signs, but most of the staff just ignored the symptoms of disease in the company. When I talked to my students about it, they said how angry they were with Nova, but they continued to come to classes and expected to see their teachers there, like the situation could just go away if they pretended not to see it. At points, I wanted to scream just to make the lunacy of the situation clear. I asked everyone out loud one morning when Mark hadn’t been paid for 3 weeks why we were here. They all looked at me like I was crazy and I stayed at work that day. I wish that I’d had the sense to walk out then- but the situation was so surreal. I couldn’t imagine that this was real and no one else was running out of the door.

When I was at dinner with Atsuko and Teruzo, I was venting about all of these terrible realizations and they told me that Japanese even have a word for this falseness- it’s called Tatemae. Tatemae is a fake feeling or attitude that you present to the world to hide your real feelings or intentions, called Honre. Funny, I just realized that Honre sounds like honor, which is the thing they hide behind falseness. On an individual scale, I have found Japanese people to hospitable and warm, but on a large scale they are very cold and irrational. For example, their society makes it almost impossible to be a foreigner and be independent: you need to work a month before you get paid and you have to have a lot of money and a Japanese sponsor to find a place to live. But, people fall over themselves to be nice to you in small ways: they invite you to parties and offer to lend you money, but it doesn’t breed self-esteem but indebtedness. You are dependent on someone to help you always, so you can never really be an individual.

Rebound

These last couple weeks have been an extremely intense soul search, where I’ve been constantly assessing my actions and choices to remain in Japan. Second guessing yourself creates a limbo like bog that you can’t escape. It paralyzes your ability to make the choices that would stabilize you because they would commit you to the environment you might want to escape. Knowing that I can go home at any time has been poison for acceptance and dealing with the problem. There is a time to run and there is a time to fight, but knowing which is which is extremely difficult to decide.

I decided to stay at least until Christmas to give myself some time to be sure, and now it seems that things are getting much better. I have a handful of really great friends to thank for that, namely my dear friend Fernando. You meet people traveling that talk a lot and plan a lot, but you never get your hopes up because they usually turn out to be full of it— I must say, that goes for most people. Fernando has been the greatest gift that I have gotten out of this experience so far because he is such a happy and generous person. He is the kind of person that offers to help you move and get a car to borrow that day without any solicitation. He is the kind of person you call when you wallet is stolen to help you talk to the cops. He is the kind of person that will come to the store with you to help you buy medicine if you are sick.

So last night I had the adventure that I’ve been needing: the one that lets me know that I’m doing the right thing. This was the adventure that reminded me that things are going to happen all the time if I give myself time. It started at the Nagoya/Boston Museum of Fine Art, where there had an exhibition on Rembrant’s etchings. They were fantastically intricate and exciting. Though many had a religious theme or depicted a troubling view of man’s nature, they were beautifully crafted and very exciting to see. I needed some time alone to listen to music and be inspired by great art!


Later that night, I went to another party in Tsurumai Park: a local park with beautiful statues and gazebos where the gaijin like to gather for drinking parties. That’s one thing I love Japan, and most every country in the world: they do not mind people gathering in public to drink. I remember going to Paris and seeing kids gather at Sacre Couer to drink wine and play music while looking at the skyline of the city. I was so jealous that we were not legally allowed to gather and drink in a positive environment like that instead of a crowded, loud bar that usually doesn’t yield any good conversations or real moments. So finally I live somewhere where we can drink in public and play soccer or relax in a gazebo without having to worry about police. I hung out there for a few hours, talking with my friends and playing a little soccer until I decided to try to go to Sakae to meet Fernando.

He had called me about a rave about an hour from Nagoya and I was so excited about the possibility of going on an adventure with him and his brother. Well, I was thrown into a fountain because I didn’t think my friend Aaron would actually do it, so I met Feru and Ricardo at my place with their lovely girlfriend Sawako. We left Nagoya at 1:30 in the morning, dancing like crazy inside and outside the car, and didn’t arrive at the rave until 2:30 or so. In order for us all to communicate, we go between three languages because Ricardo refuses to speak English, I can’t speak Japanese and Sawako doesn’t speak Japanese, so Feru and Ricardo speak Spanish and Japanese, Sawako and I speak our perspective languages, but Spanish to each other. It was such a trip. We parked the car and brought our Asahi and Grapefruit Chu-Hais, climbed a small levee and saw the party on the banks by the river. There were a few DJs that rotated in and out and a hot dog stand that sold Zima, which so typically random of the Japanese. The music was great and the people were crazy and we all danced until the sunrise and the moon shared the sky. It was a beautiful morning, clear and warmer than it has been here the last few weeks. I feel like the weather here is a great analogy for Japan as a whole: you can never tell what it’s going to be like or prepare properly, unless you are Japanese. It is either unbearably miserable or it is gorgeously clear. On those days, everything falls into place. You can air your futon and dry your clothes with no problem on those days. On the other days, you curse the logic and the silliness of the culture and your clothes mildew.





As the morning grew brighter and the scene got old, we piled into Ricardo’s car and went to the “convenie” to pick up tasty snacks and drinks and make our way to the beach. We drove for about an hour through industrial Japan, with its factories, smoke stacks and crowded apartments airing their laundry. We arrived to the beach and I actually laughed out loud at the Japanese “surfers” trying to surf on the smallest waves I’ve ever seen. They weren’t even breaking. They were so small that I wouldn’t have even been able to body surf them and these guys are out there trying to surf.



We sat on the concrete peer and watched Sawako soak herself in the waves and then fell asleep for an hour. When we woke up, Ricardo’s battery had died from leaving the car on so we had to get a jump to go home. By this time it was like noon, so we headed back to Nagoya. Before dropping Sawako off, we went and had Taiwanese food together at a restaurant near the house of Feru’s tia. I had a delicious ramen and tofu with hot chilli oil. It was really nice to feel part of a crew again, to feel so content with the friends around me that I forgot for a moment how much I miss my friends back home. It felt good to laugh and dance and ride around in a car on such a beautiful day. Leaving today, I felt better than I have felt in weeks, and I know its because I had so much fun and because I got to see the ocean.