Fukushima Report - Nov 20th

It wasn't until the ride back that I even knew about the report we had to write in order to express our thanks to the folks in Shirakawa that helped us out and made us feel so comfortable in their home town. A few nights later, with my host mom's help, I wrote out this report (If there are enough requests I can translate it, but it's really just a rehash of the past three posts with some gratitude mixed in)

白河研修旅行レポート
November 17^th - 19^th, 2006

今回の白河の研修旅行に参加できてとても嬉しかったです。いつでも白河に行けるけど、この研修旅行は一生に一度の経験になりました。それはたくさんの体験ができたり、色々な国の留学生の友達ができたりしました。

エプロン持参で作るそば作りはどうなることか不安でしたが、名人と言われる方に教えて頂き、上手においしくできました。そして、天ぷらがあったおかげで、私たちが打ったそばはよりおいしく頂くことができました。

白 河は寒くて、温泉に入る機会を楽しみにしていました。天然温泉に行ったことがなかったので、初めて露天風呂に入ることは面白かったです。きれいな景色や星 をみてリラクスして湯に遣っていたら、子供のころを思い出しました。出身地には温泉はないのに懐かしくなりました。また伝統的な温泉に行きたいと思いま す。

南湖公園では、あのようにきれいな公園を保つためには、たくさんの人手がかかっているんだなと思いました。歴史がある公園、伝統的な茶道にも経験できて大変よかったです。

特 に、白河旭高校の生徒たちと交流できてよかったです。なぜなら、他の国に興味を持つ高校生と色々な話ができたからです。お互いの文化、社会のことなどを教 えあったので、とても有意義でした。一緒においしい鯛焼きを食べたり、フルーツバスケットをやったりしたのはとても楽しかったです。これからも彼らは皆明 るく未来に向かって社会に出て活躍してくれたらいいなと思いました。できることなら、カリフォルニアで再会できたら素晴らしいです。

ア メリカで達磨のことは、本などで知っては、いたけれども、その時は変な人形ぐらいにしか思いませんでした。しかし、達磨は不屈の意志力を表現しているとい うことを聞き、自分で絵付けをした達磨を見て、達磨のように倒されても、倒されても、また起き上がる意志力で頑張りたいとおもいました。

歓迎パーティーについては、あのような早稲田を卒業なさった皆様と、ロータリークラブ、ホテルの方々のおかげで、思いがけないパーティーを開いて頂いたことにとても感謝しております。（カラオケもさせて頂いたりおいしいバイキング料理を作って下さったりして）お寺に泊まって座禅を組み、日本の仏教のことを少し感じることができました。伝統的な修練の方法の座禅は大変難しかったです。心の中の静かなところを見つけたいと思うので、またやってみたくなりました。

最後にまほろんという博物館に行って、昔の人の生活様式を見れて面白かったです。まほろんでの説明してくれた方が勾玉の作り方も教えてくれました。そして、自分の勾玉を作り、とても気に入りました。東京に帰ってから、皆が羨ましがっていて、作って欲しいと言われました。

勾玉も、達磨も、白河旭高校の生徒たちがくれたピンブローチなど、色々なものを日本の思い出と、白河の思い出としていつまでも大切にしたいと思います。最後に白河研修旅行は私にとっても、思い出深いものになり、皆様に感謝致しております。

Fukushima Day Three - Nov 19th

We woke up around 7AM and washed our faces in the bathroom sink. Despite all of the fun I had been having, tonight would be the first night all weekend I’d be able to properly bathe, and I was looking forward to a nice shower and lots of soap. We dressed warmly and were led to the main temple, where the priest had offered to lead us in meditation practice. It’s quite possible that I was the only one excited by this prospect, and I hurriedly grabbed one of the thick zabuton in the front row and eagerly listened to the monk’s explanation of the Buddhist meditation practice (although it was in Japanese and I only got about half of what he was saying). He spoke at length about some of the history of the practice, and then talked about imagining a full moon and clearing your mind of all other thoughts. I gave it an honest effort, but was constantly being led astray by my mischievous ego. The mind is like a wandering fox; it does not want to be tamed, and will use all sorts of tricks to slip away from you. I later asked him about my difficulties, and asked if he had any tips for me. I might as well asked him what the Buddha looked like, because the answer is so simple and yet so elusive; don’t fight it, just keep trying. I thanked him and joined the rest of the group for our breakfast of okayu (porridge).

After eating, we packed our things and put away the mountains of futons we had used the night before. We only had one more stop to make, at the Mahoron Shirakawa Field Museum. We were greeted at the entrance by a sign welcoming the Waseda students, and a friendly guide who walked us through the various exhibits. The goal of the museum is to show people how folks lived in the Japan of yesteryear; there were exhibits that displayed a typical family room from the 60’s, the 1800’s, the 1600’s, reaching back all the way to 4,000 years ago. It’s quite amazing to see the different kinds of food available at different times, especially interesting was the typical diet of nuts and berries before rice was introduced to Japan.

We moved swiftly through the exhibits, absorbing random factoids about years gone past, and moved onto the handicraft portion of the tour, where we actually got to make our own magatama necklaces. Magatama were ornaments originally made from bear teeth, but eventually just carved out of stone, meant to signify power and wealth. With just a boring tool and a few scraps of sandpaper, we were able to work out a shape similar to half of a yin-yang sign in about half an hour. I especially like mine, which I purposefully shaved down a bit smaller than the others; I don’t like big jewelry, even when it’s supposed to signify my power and wealth. I enjoyed the craft so much, that I ended up buying another kit to try later. With a little time left, a few of us went outside and took turned making fire with a modified bow and string. Friction is surprisingly effective, but it’s funny how excited one can get over something so seemingly simple as making fire (Dong reminded me a bit like Tom Hanks on “Castaway” when he finally got his fire going).

We went to a local ramen shop and had some tasty ramen and gyoza. I noticed there was a giant Daruma on a high shelf near the kitchen; both of its eyes had been filled in. After lunch, we went to a local confectionary to get omiyage. I got a couple bags of sweet chips and such, and Hans and I got some anko-filled Daruma for Kazaoka-sensei. Finally with the last item checked off our list, we started the long bus ride home. When we finally arrived, The rain was coming down in a steady torrent, a noticeable difference from the mild and pleasant weather we experienced up north. Before we got off the bus, the teachers reminded us about the report where we need to write about our experiences in Shirakawa (not that I remember ever hearing about it before).

Tonight was Maho’s birthday, and a gathering was arranged at the Hub. We quickly made our way home to freshen up (hooray for showers!) and returned to Baba to see everyone. I was genuinely exhausted, but I wanted to give Maho a small cake I found in the omiyage shop, and I knew she’d be disappointed if we didn’t show for her birthday. I found my second wind and we went to the Hub, where a decent group of friends (and Claire) had already gathered. We downed a few rounds of drinks and ran up the points on my member’s card some more. Lindsey spotted a hot waiter, and asked Claire if she could help her talk to him (since Claire has a long-term boyfriend). Claire shot back with “Just ‘cause I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t flirt!” Her logic appalls. We sicc’ed her on one of the furthest groups of Japanese strangers we could find. She had no difficulties latching onto them like a social leech, bleeding them dry of their will to ever speak to another foreigner. Free of her ever-growing obnoxiousness, we had a great evening and chatted until people had to start heading out to catch their last trains. I finally found a window of opportunity to head home, and took advantage of my new appreciation for a bed that isn’t on the floor. To end the evening, here's a photo of Maho taking a bite out of her new chocolate calculator. Yum!

Fukushima Day Two - Nov 18th

Today I slept in a bit and woke up in time for breakfast, which consisted of fish and rice and variations on those themes. I felt sorry for Ryu, who has an allergy to seafood, as he had to make do with some pretty slim pickings. After breakfast, we were able to enjoy one more soak before moving out. Most of the guys had already gone to the routemburo before breakfast (sneaky!), so we decided to hit up the Tengu room one more time. This time I was able to sit directly under the flow from the hot spring for a few seconds, while the others cowered by a small flow of cold water on the other side of the bath. Still no girls.

After thanking the people at the ryokan for their hospitality and everything, we gathered around the front of the compound by the big sign and took a series of group photos before trailing after the small truck carrying our bags back up towards the bus. The ryokan looked almost as surreptitious in the daytime as it did at night. There was a thin layer of white frost covering small patches of ground and vegetation off the trail, as if someone came in with a fine brush to dabble the landscape with snowy highlights. What a sight it would be to sit in the routemburo and watch the snow fall!

Already the trip had paid for itself, but we weren't even halfway finished. Our next destination was Nanko kouen, the first public park in Japan. And it has clearly been taken well care of, as there were practically more people there sweeping, rimming trees and picking leaves out of the ponds than there were visitors. Awed by the perfectly manicured garden surrounding us, we were led into a quaint but rather large old-style building overlooking a large pond fed by waterfalls, and served matcha, green tea. We were told it was a tea ceremony, and indeed there was a large calligraphy scroll on the wall, with a flower arrangement set before it, indicating that the room was intended for the tea ceremony. But unlike my quiet experience last year, much of the ceremony seemed to have been stripped from the experience; we did not witness the making of the tea, and there was no instruction for how to hold the cup or drink the tea, which was mildly disappointing. But the tea was good, and the view was breathtaking, so I'll take what I can get.

After the "ceremony," we were set free to explore the surrounding park, and the temple nearby. We started with a bunch of group photos, and then I set off to find unique angles of the beautiful park. There was a particulary hypnotizing corner of the park featuring a rainbow of fall colors and a waterfall. An older gentleman was already there, taking photos with an old film camera. I tried not to intrude into his territory too much, and opted not to strike up a conversation with him. Sometimes, photography is a sport best played solo.

Hans and I circumnavigated the park before going up to the shrine by the entrance. The maple leaves were ablaze in reds and oranges, and a local family was bringing some lovely children dressed in suits and kimono up the steps to the shrine. We tiptoed by them and went back to the park entrance and caught sight of a group of young feral cats roaming around. A local woman drove up and approached a covered bench, where she dropped a few cups of cat food on the ground and returned to her vehicle. The cats clambored towards the pile of food and gorged themselves, barely noticing our presence. They were pretty tame, and barely minded when I stooped down to pet them a few times. They even sat still for me to take some portraits. Eventually a small crowd of students from our group had gathered to peer at the animals, when another local man came by with an exuberant white dog. The cats bristled at his presence, but refused to relinquish any ground to the fluffy upstart, who was busily making friends with the other foreigners.

Pretty soon we had run out of free time, and walked along the edge of a large, partially dredged lake towards another large building where we'd have lunch. Hans and I noticed that all of the trees had been wrapped in a straw band a few feet from the ground, which I dubbed "the tree haramaki." We asked the young assistant for Hoshien who had partially been serving as a translator for the trip, and she speculated that it was to "keep the trees warm," before someone else told us it was there to attract insects that could otherwise harm the tree; the straw waistbands were cyclically removed, taking the pests with them. Ahhhhh.

We had a leisurely lunch of some kind of ceramic nabe using a single sterno (chemical candle) to cook an assortment of meat and vegetables. We relaxed for a while before being herded back onto the bus for the main event of the day: cultural exchange (交流) with Shirakawa Asahi High School's Interact and English clubs. As we pulled up, there was a group of students and teachers assembled at the school entrance with a big banner welcoming us to their school. We were ushered inside and given a tour of the teacher's offices, then the classrooms themselves. I had never been in a Japanese high school before, so this was an interesting experience for me. We were shown into the library, where they gave us warm bottled tea and taiyaki (the anko or custard-filled treat that Hans went to hell and back to find at the Asakusa Stree Market), and showed us a video slideshow the students had put together to introduce their school to us. It was cute, funny, and at times, moving. I could tell that they had a lot of school pride. Japanese students seem to get far more attached to their school and schoolmates than we do back home. I think we could benefit from imitating some of their team and group-harmony oriented events.

Afterwards, Benny stood up and gave his introduction, which was quite good actually. He then introduced his hometown in Germany at length. We were apparently a bit stretched for time, because he had to be cut off, and the rest of us were given about a minute apiece to introduce our own country or city of origin. The students then introduced themselves, and we played a game called "fruit basket," which is kind of like musical chairs, but without the music. There is one less chair than there are people, and the person without a chair asks a question, like "are you wearing glasses," or "do you like Mr. Children." Everyone who answers "yes" has to get up and run to an empty seat other than the ones next to them. The last person standing then has to ask a new question. It's a surprisingly simple and fun game, and was a good ice-breaker. I was only stuck in the middle once. Some of the questions were pretty funny. One of the larger boys just said "I'M FAT!" and the crowd fell into fits of laughter as no one stood up.

Finally we broke into small groups to introduce our hometown in more detail. Hans, a Korean girl and a Chinese girl were in my group, and our students were the self-acclaimed fat kid, and a small timid boy with a kind of a cute nervous stutter. We eventually ran out of time and took another series of group photos. As usual, everyone brought their camera forward to the teachers so they could get their own photos (even though there was going to be a gallery posted online). At one point, one of the teachers dropped one of the cameras, and I could see that it was a Canon. Kind of freaking out, I jumped down from my chair and walked over to where they were trying to jam the lens back into the body. I surveyed the wreckage and let them know that it was pretty much toast, before realizing that it wasn't my camera, but someone else's. There were two or three other students who had cameras identical to my own, but I could tell from the lack of scratches on the body that it wasn't mine. William, from Canada, confirmed that it was his own, but he didn't seem worried at all. The teachers assured him that our travel insurance would cover it; perhaps he already knew that, because he looked like somone slipped xanax into his taiyaki. I think it was more to calm down the teacher who hadn't stopped apologizing hysterically since dropping the camera. Finally, we got her to admit that it could happen to anyone, and that it was no big deal, since the insurance would cover it after all. We happily finished our group photos before returning to our shoes and getting back on the bus. The students waved to us until they were out of sight. Adorable.

Next on the agenda was Dharma painting; Dharma are round dolls and one of the specialties of the region. They are weighted at the bottom, so when they are knocked over, they right themselves. The bodies are usually red or yellow, and their faces are painted with a specific wish or goal in mind. When the wish is made, the left eye is painted in, and when the wish comes true, the other eye is finished. We were given a set of brushes and pens, and set to work. I ended up drawing a crazy pattern all over the body, and due to my poor skills with a brush, gave him a shoddy beard and bushy eyebrows. Having no specific goal in mind, I decided to leave the eyes white for now.

We thanked the Dharma teacher and went to 龍蔵寺 (ryuzoji), the temple where we would be spending the night to drop off our luggage. A welcome party had been planned at a local hotel, replete with buffet and karaoke. The hotel was a splendid affair, with chandeliers and roomy hallways. The food was excellent; I later found out that the benefactors of the event were Waseda OB (old boys, alumni) and philanthropists from the Rotary Club. The owner of the hotel was there, and it turned out that he was actually a Korean, who moved to Japan to study long ago before making his fortune. I'm very impressed with their graciousness and generocity. Even the ladies who had made tempura for us the previous day were there. The food and drink flowed freely, and before we knew it, us students were singing karaoke for the OB. Hans and I even did our rendition of "A Whole New World." It was all very fun and embarrassing.

Finally, we went back to the temple for more drinking and chatting. We eventually busted out the cards and played a few more games, staying far away from Bullshit. Finally, about half the group went to bed, and the rest of us stayed up for a while longer and put a few of the guys in the hotseat, making them talk about their past relationships (all in Japanese). A good time was had by all (except maybe for those of us forced to spill our guts), and we finally retired around midnight.

Now that you see how much went on during this trip, you understand why it took me so long to get around to writing about it all!

Fukushima Day One - Nov 17th

I got to Hoshien with about 15 minutes to spare; I somehow managed to fit just about everything I needed in my small backpack. Hans was the second to last one on the bus, but we eventually all made it in time for departure. My suspiscions from reading the list of attending students was confirmed: we didn't know anybody.

The bus ride was long, but most of us were unconscious, catching up on the sleep that was interrupted by our assembly. Our first stop was Sekinomori, a park on the outskirts of Shirakawa, where we would learn how to make soba noodles from scratch by a living national treasure. The soba sensei was amazing; his decades of experience boiled down to just a few minutes of mixing, kneading and cutting. We were split into groups of four, and spent about an hour trying to get a respectable consistency to our mixtures, intermittently deferring to experience and letting the sensei have his way with our lumpy clods of buckwheat dough. A skilled craftsman, he knead the dough in a way that reminded me of my ceramics teacher; he even created the same "chrysanthemum" pattern in the dough as he turned and pressed it into the bowl. Once the dough was the right consistency, we had to flatten it and stretch it into a giant square, then fold it several times over. The last step was cutting, which he pretty much left up to us. Of all the groups, I think ours was the most consistent, and closest to the actual width of soba. Everyone else's soba was comically fat, looking more like udon or chow fun.

We went to an adjacent building and each team ate the soba they had made, along with a huge serving of vegetable tempura generously prepared by a group of volunteers from the town. It was delicious! As you can tell from my photo, I gained some weight from the meal.

There was a sweet dog with no tags running around the parking lot that everyone but the bus driver was fond of. That part of the story really goes nowhere, but I figured the dog was worth mentioning. After lunch, we were given some free time to explore the surrounding park; Hans and I dashed towards the awesome playground nearby. Japanese kids are so spoiled!

We were soon rounded up and piled back on the bus, and made our way to the remains of Komine Castle in Shirakawa. Unlike Matsumoto, this castle had been reconstructed at some point, but it was still quite old. There were even holes in the floorboards from one of the wars the castle had endured. It was considerably smaller than Mastumoto, but it also had its share of interesting history. One of the students, a Korean who was quite fluent in Japanese but spoke no English, was thoroughly excited when we went through the adjacent museum and learned about all the of the historical importance of the castle, including its connection to the shinsengumi. Only able to understand a small part of the lecture, I was visibly less enthused. I did learn, however, that there were certain classifications of money back then; some were used only for official transactions between daimyos, and just one of these "coins" was worth the equivalent of a small fortune. Quite amazing! Coincidentally, it turns out that the castle is also used as a backdrop for the movie "Bushi no Ippun."

As the sky started to dull and fade into darkness, we arrived at our final destination for the day; Kita Onsen Ryokan, just south of Shirakawa in Tochigi prefecture. The ryokan (traditional Japanese inn) was tucked deep into a valley, at the end of a narrow road winding its way down one of the cliffs surrounding it (too narrow for our bus, we had to dismount and manage the final quarter mile on foot). Behind the old buildings is a large staircase of man-made waterfalls, feeding the baths. Copious amounts of steam and the faint smell of sulfur permeated everything.

We got a quick tour of the maze of corridors leading to the rooms and various baths around the compound. I would be staying in the largest room, along with Benny (from Germany), Ryu (England), Dong (Northern China) and Sen (Shanghai). We made plans to try out the routemburo (outdoor-bath) and the pool (also filled with warm spring water) after dinner. There was also a couple konyoku (co-ed) baths, including one right by the room in which I was staying. In fact, the konyoku bath was known as the "Tengu no yu," and is famous for being very hot, and having huge Tengu masks on the wall. All the guys visited the Tengu room and waited patiently for the ladies to join us, but they never came 8*(

After dinner, we headed for the routemburo and admired the view and the extremely warm water. I have never had a more pleasant spa experience, and had almost forgotten how beautiful the night sky is, since the lights of Tokyo swallow up any trace of anything beyond the stratosphere. A few intrepid souls joined me in the pool (also co-ed, but requiring a bathing suit) located out in front of the complex. The water was warm, but not as nice as the routemburo. I floated around on my back for a while, staring at the pinholes of light that were so often obscured by clouds and light pollution. Again, no girls, not even in swimsuits.

Lastly we went to the famous Tengu room, and talked to some of the older gentlemen staying at the ryokan as we boiled ourselves in the hot spring. The mask in the photo is actually much larger than it appears; it's about 4 feet tall, and the nose protrudes about 3 feet. I didn't have a chance to photograph it (as I didn't want to disturb the bathers), but I found this image on the net.

After bathing (but not showering, for strangely enough, there are no bathing facilities other than the hotsprings themselves), we gathered in one of the dens to chat and share snacks and drinks. It was decided that Benny, as the student with the least experience learning Japanese, would be making our introduction tomorrow at the cultural exchange with Shirakawa Asahi High school's English and International club. I breathed a sigh of relief. After cavorting for an hour or so, a group of us went back to one of the rooms to play card games, ultimately ending with a rousing but endless game of Bullshit. I managed to go out early, and spent the rest of the time joking around with the others.

Also worth mentioning; A majority of the students on this trip, including Hans, speak Chinese; for some of them, our only common language is Japanese. This leads to some interesting conversations, but for the most part, we understand each other and are able to have a great time.

Asakusa Street Market - Nov 16th

Tomorrow Hans and I join the Hoshien trip to Shirawaka, in Fukushima prefecture up north. We looked at the list of names when we found out we were amongst the twenty foreign students chosen for the trip, and didn't recognize a single name. Oh well, an opportunity to meet new people and make friends from all over the world (or somesuch similar candy-coated nonsense). We have to be at Hoshien by 6:45 tomorrow morning, ready to go. But tonight, his Temple family (the priestess and her husband) have invited us to go to the Asakusa Street Market, a biannual event similar to a festival, where food stands are set up alongside stands that sell "kumade," a good luck charm based on the shape of traditional bamboo rakes. The kumade are covered in good luck symbols, and are meant to help the owner "rake in the good luck." Ranging from simple and palm-sized to 5 feet wide, there's quite a range available, depending on how much luck you can afford.

We went to the temple family's apartment on the first floor, a strikingly modern building with an interior reminiscent of a Kohler commercial. We had tacos and I played with their two small dogs, admittedly the first animals I had actually touched since arriving in Japan. We jumped in a cab, and went to the location of the street market. The crowd was thicker than anticipated; Billy had gone the night before, and said that it wasn't nearly this packed. Tonight was the last night for the market, so perhaps everyone was here for their last shot at good luck for the year. XX said that the economy wasn't doing so well, so people were resorting to the traditional superstitions to try and change their luck. We went to the main entrance and rang the shrine's bell, and started wandering around. We hit up all sorts of food stands and watched the kumade workers chant and clap their hands when someone bought one of the more expensive charms.

At one point, Billy nodded towards a group of men in black suits and casually said "look, it's a herd of yak," before finding a suitable shop to buy a kumade of his own (pretty much all of these stands, regardless of what they sell, are somehow tied to organized crime. Of course, this doesn't seem to bother anyone, and I didn't see any trouble arising from this fact. After buying one of the cheaper kumade, the guys at the stand offered Billy and I a chair and a cup of tea. Billy enjoyed a smoke and we chatted with the older gentlemen running the stand, who reiterated to us the significance of the kumade. Perhaps out of a sense of gratitude or obligation, or annoyance with myself for not buying enough mementos of my adventures here, I also got a kumade of my own.

Moving on, Billy picked up a gourd of shichimi (seven spices blended together, a common seasoning here), and I got a cup of tea made from REAL cinnamon. Most cinnamon sold in markets in the US isn't actually cinnamon, but a cheap relative called cassia. To see such a bounty of real cinnamon and be able to taste some of it was a real treat. Aside from the tea, everything was ridiculously expensive.

We finally grabbed a few seats nearby a food stand, somewhere between a restaurant and a row of park benches. The temple family ordered some stuff for us, and Hans disappeared to find some taiyaki. We sat and chatted for a while, and Billy flirted with the adorable child sitting next to us. Hans finally returned, taiyaki in hand, and we had a few styrofoam cups of sake. We made one more loop around the temple, admiring the wall of lanterns above the main gate, and smirking at the youngsters in white robes, flailing ceremonial paper flogs over the heads of passers-by. We headed back to the temple where Hans and Billy live, and they gave me a quick tour of their apartments, which are large for Japanese college students (about the size of a studio apartment). I made my way back home and crashed in preparation for the early rise tomorrow; fortunately, I thought to pack beforehand.

Some current thoughts, for a change

Being sick and bedridden on the second floor of a house in a quiet suburb, only a block away from a relatively busy street, I hear some strange things, about half of which might not have been fever-induced hallucinations.

A baby crying downstairs.
A man very yelling "BAI BAI" as a car drives away
Sirens, like every 15 minutes. Great omen
Cats screwing or fighting nearby (sounds the same)
Someone (hopefully female) in high heels sprinting towards the intersection
My stomach growling, and then saying "you'd better not try to eat anything jackass"
My racing heartbeat as I sweat out the invading antibodies.

Also, I have come to two conclusions: one, that I have developed a telepathic connection with my cell phone, and two: the gecko's grip is eternal. I'm not sure which one makes more sense.

I keep my cell phone on manner mode pretty much all the time, cause I'm just so well-mannered. Naturally, it will buzz twice when I get a new message. I'll be standing, walking, or biking along when I feel like my trousers are vibrating. Instinctively, I reach into my pants (for my phone, smartass) and upon removing the device, it'll proceed to ring... twice. Creepy. I'll be thinking about sending or receiving a message, and the phone will buzz at me like an impatient ER doctor's beeper. Just now, I came back to my room after spending an entire evening downstairs, and for some reason, I was thinking about checking my phone for messages. As I opened the door, I heard the second buzz indicating I had just received a message. Tin-foil hats, anyone?

The second thought was probably more feverish mania than a sane conclusion; I was washing my hands downstairs like a meth addict with the lights turned off before returning to my cocoon of sweat and tears upstairs, and reached for the hand towel. Said towel hangs on a small hook in the shape of a pink gecko with suction cups for feet, stoically affixed to the cabinet door. As I dried my hands, the towel fell, and I reasonably concluded that the gecko had fallen from the uneven wooden surface, as suction cups are prone to do. Despite not hearing any "plop" of falling geckos, I searching the dark countertop (cause the lights were off, you see) for a good 15 seconds, before looking up and realizing that the gecko was unmoved, and I had merely pulled the towel off his tail-hook. At that point, like a booming voice echoing inside my head: "Fool, don't ever doubt the gecko--his grip is eternal." Maybe I should take a day off from school after all...

Lastly, and this isn't really a thought, more a public service announcement for everyone: Japanese people have no shame about talking about things like constipation or diarrhea. I suppose this is a good thing, because both are common to the human condition, and it's good to be able to talk about the symptoms of what ails you, but I suppose there's something from years of good 'ol anglo-protestant shame beaten into my sub-conscious that flashes big red lights when I'm asked about the condition of my bowel movements. Even the TV commercials come out and say it, and although I'm getting used to it, it's still hard for me to say "yep, it's been a while since I visited 'ol Toto," or "no, I think I need to change my underwear again." Perhaps I've said too much...