Umbrella thieves!

Konnichiwa!

Here I am, back from the sticky abyss that swallowed me up. However, the sticky abyss that got me this time happened to be a happy one, so don't start penning the "glad-you're-out-of-the-frightening-unknown" cards. It would be a waste of your time.

I had an amazing trip with a dear friend from home, Ms. Amelia "nice body" Adcock (as one of my classes nicknamed her).

Our trip began after a few tiny transportation troubles. I met my lilac-clad, jet-lagged friend in Tokyo. Our time in the big, bad city that eats babies and adults alike went by so quickly, it's already taken on feelings of nostalgia and I'm having a hard time remembering the finer details. Some of them I should be thankful to forget. An example: The time we took a two-hour walk in the direction of our two-tatami-mat, flea infested abode in the middle of the night - wearing only our dancing shoes. Let me ask you this: why would, in a city of millions and millions of people, the subways stop running at midnight on a Saturday night? I suppose we could ponder the same of NYC - the other baby-eating city of ill repute. Another example: The time we piled out of an overnight bus from Tokyo to Osaka dressed in our p.j.s, bladders full and our teeth fuzzy, just to find that the only restrooms available to arriving patrons are behind the ticketed lines. Only if you're riding the subway may you use the public toilets. Ah... but even then, who really wants to?

But, those are just a few of the entertaining gems that are only ever useful in blogs and the next time I find myself swapping stories in flop-houses turned back-packing hostel lobbies. "Oh you think that's bad, well listen to this...." But our ten days of high-packed action also included some really brilliant times. The highlight of the trip include but are not limited to:

1. The Sushi Train: Our lunch of conveyer belt sushi in Shinjuku - the hub of Tokyo's business district. The stacked plates of polished-off sushi was added up at the end to create the bill. If only we could have figured out a way to slip the dishwear into our bags, we could have ate like queens. Oh wait, we did.

2. The Fred and Stans of the World: Random duos of dudes that we ran across. Two happened to be boarding at the New Koyo as well. Our St. Patrick's Day Fred and Stan (from NYC) duo accompanied us to an all night karaoke explosion. Our good senses lead us home at 4am instead of continuing the party into daybreak.

3. Seeing REM in Concert at the Osaka Grand Cube: Enough said. BTW: They just celebrated their 25 year anniversary. They're so RAD.

4. Sightseeing and Dinner Parties on Ojika: Amelia and I were treated to some really wonderful, home-cooked Japanese food. Our hosts put out quite a spread. I also stole a car from a back-bent, elderly farm worker while he was regulating the levels of his rice paddy so we could do some sightseeing. No, not really. My wonderful friend, Kana, let us borrow her car for the day.

Really, there are endless stories and moments that keep recurring in my minds eye that make me giggle in the middle of staff meetings, but I'll save the rest of them for myself. They get rather stale in the recount. A serious case of just having to be there.

Since Mel's departure, my schedule has kept me a busy like a buck-toothed tanuki. (And thank the gods for that! Who wants to have plenty of leisure time to contemplate the sheer loneliness and isolation of Ojika after a dear friend leaves? Certainly not I!)

At the end of March, beginning of April life gets kind of wacky on Ojika. The school year ends, the classes are moved, some of the staff changes and new teachers come. The cherry blossoms bloom and there are parties galore!

Most recently, Hokusho Nish High School had the welcome enkai for the new slew of lucky island-living hard-core Japanese folks. We kept things status quo and the "bring it on" part of WELCOME (trust me, it's in there, you just have to read between the letters) became quite ruckus once the shochu was broken out. And when I say ruckus, I mean ruckus in the all too conservative Japanese sense. I mean, we never really get the to the point of men stripping to their boxers and ties, while wiggling and giggling their paunches for the party guests to see. (However, I've seen pictures of some Japanese wedding receptions and it isn't at all impossible for dudes to get to that level.) And honestly, I'm a proponent of any activity that I can add to my "I've never seen that before" list. So, you guessed correctly. I am kind of sorry we haven't yet gotten to the boxer butt shakin' at our ho-downs.

At the end of the welcome party, the staff shuffled out of the fat-fried, smoke-fetid den and ambled back to their homes. I found the evening a success not only because I was able to hob-nob with the newbies and share my passion for the 'chu, but these events always teach me some important vocabulary that shall serve me well in the future. Like when, just after Shibahara sensei (one of Hokusho Nishi's best and brightest math stars) rummaged through the umbrella stand, and apprehensively plucked an umbrella for his use, I hollered after him, kasa dorobo! Umbrella thief! That's good stuff. I could tell from the alcohol-induced, glassy-eyed stare and flabbergasted humphs he muttered that he appreciated me trying out my new vocab on him.

And that, mochiron, is the end of the story.