Free Breakfast with Coffee

Japan has been home for nearly two years. Though I am unable to claim familiarity with every custom, by now, there are scenarios where surprise is unexpected. For example, ordering a beverage at a coffee shop.

Last year I took my first trip to Nagoya, Japan's 4th largest city. Just before going, friends told me something pleasantly unusual about the area coffee shops; upon ordering a cup of java, breakfast was free.

Inconceivable–a free drink, with purchase of a meal, might be expected anywhere, but in Nagoya, the reverse occurs? On my first trip there, I saw signs advertising the free-breakfast-with-coffee phenomenon, but was unable to partake of it, due to time constraints.

Recently, I had occasion to go to Nagoya again. It sounds silly–and it was not at all the focus of my journey–but, I was looking forward to getting something for nothing in breakfast-form.

Finally, I had my chance. I went to Komeda's Coffee in Nagoya Station. Holy mackerel–the legends were true–and it was better than I ever imagined. The meal came free with the purchase of any beverage–a pleasant surprise to this coffee-hater. There was a wide array of choices available including teas, shakes and soups.

For my beverage, I ordered corn soup. I was delighted at the wonderful taste, especially as it initially looked lackluster. They also brought a hard-boiled egg, still in the shell, and a half piece of toast. In Japan, bread is cut quite thick. The portion may not sound generous, but it was equivalent to about 1 slice of bread in the US, making the meal perfectly sized for breakfast. It was delicious, and indeed, all for the ordinary price of a drink at a coffee shop.

WHY is there free breakfast with coffee? I wondered the same. Apparently, there was stiff competition between cafés. Komeda's Coffee, the very chain where I experienced bargain-lover's bliss, started offering free breakfast. Other shops followed suit.

I could not find out why it localized mostly in the Nagoya Metro area. (Although, there are Komeda's locations nationwide; you may be able to experience breakfast, the Nagoya way, in a prefecture near you). Free breakfast should catch on everywhere. Indeed, Japanese out-of-towners were in line with me, excited to try the famed special. For now, its geographic exclusivity remains a mystery. If you find yourself in Nagoya, wander into a coffee shop and see what surprise comes with your drink.

I Am So Lucky

You have all no doubt been made aware of the devastating earthquakes in northeast Japan, as well as the tsunamis along the Pacific coast. I am so lucky to be doing completely fine right now. Knock on wood. Sorry-I hate to reveal this, but I am not exactly unsuperstitious. I do not want to give myself an ahora. (The Yiddish word for the evil eye).

I might've been as surprised about the disaster as family and friends at home. Having sprained my ankle last week, I have only left my apartment as much as necessary. Hence, I have been much less aware of the world outside it than usual, of late.

On Friday, I was shocked to learn the news; I spent much of the day in disaster mode. Lacking a TV, I watched the coverage on NHK online. Simultaneously, friends and family worried about my safety via postings on Facebook. My wonderful friend in Northern Kansai called multiple times to let me know about the tsunami coming my way. I was so lucky to have close friends in Seattle and San Francisco call to check on me.

"I know you're not near the earthquakes up north," my friend said. "but what about the tsunamis?"

"Oh, those?" I replied mock-casually, letting my dark humor mask my genuine concern. "No... I'm not near the earthquakes... but the tsunamis...Yeah... I'm right in the warning area for those. The map is all lit up in red."

My parents in Metro Detroit called at 3:30 in the morning, Eastern Standard Time. I told my dad that the tsunami was supposed to be 3 meters or more.

"What is that again?" my dad asked.

"Let's see... I'm 152 centimeters (5 ft.), so, about two of me."

"That's pretty tall." he replied.

I couldn't have agreed more.

I was extremely worried about the tsunami. The (I assumed) tsunami warning announcements were not much help. The announcer mumbled as the megaphone ate half the syllables, rendering it like a Charles Schultz warning system. I'd hear "Shingu, tsunami, mwamwaaaa mwaaa mwaa mwaaa mwaaaa!" Not knowing what was being said, as a result, was more than a bit unnerving. I'm a huge fan of The Peanuts, but there's a time and a place.

The Metro Detroit area does not have much in the way of natural disasters. It has irritating, cold weather, but not much to worry about. The most difficult of that ilk is snow. Of course, tornadoes occur, but not very often. A friend and I consoled each other on how because we were from there, we had no idea how to deal with unwanted natural occurrences which were not snow; certainly not earthquakes or a tsunami. We have learned.

As for the tsunami, it did hit. I was only certain of that because my friend alerted me. There is no damage outside at all that I can see. I am beyond fine and beyond lucky. There have been a few tiny shakes, but nothing to be concerned about. I am so fortunate to have been here and to have had so many concerned for my well being.

While it seems completely fine here, aftershocks continue to happen in the north. I am quite worried for them. Buildings have completely disappeared, and people cannot find their loved ones. My heart goes out to them. If you want to help, there are many organizations giving donations. You've most likely seen these links, but here are some again anyway:

MSNBC's Technoblog with multiple organizations for donations to Japan

A video tutorial on making donations from ATMs within Japan

If you are looking for someone, please take a look at Google's people finder.

The photo at the top of today's blog was taken today at the supermarket. I chose this to show that it is business as usual in Shingu, Wakayama, Japan. Everyone here is fine, so please do not worry about us. If you would like to extend your concern, please do so for the north.

Giant Pineapples and the Kumano River

Yesterday, I went bike riding around town and into Mie Prefecture. (The next state/provence over). I would love to regale you with tales of my arduous journey, but alas, it only took about 20 minutes to get from my apartment to the other side.

I decided upon three directional options once I reached Mie. Judging by the scenery, I picked the wrong one. It's not that smoke stacks and a Circle K weren't fantastic, but I already had both in my own area. Fortunately, there is always next time.

After I returned to Wakayama, I continued riding around the Kumano River. I enjoyed the scenery, the pink clouds which softly glowed over the mountains as the sun set, then passed by a temple, and of course, a giant pineapple-shaped palm tree.

Wait; what?



Yes, that's right; a giant-pineapple-shaped palm tree. Although it seems such trees are sub-tropical, and, as such, make as much sense in Japan as the other types I've seen, I have never seen that kind before. It was so very whimsical. Just another of the wonderful things I am able to stumble upon as I live in Japan.

Japan Hates my Left Leg

Yesterday, while riding my bike home from the grocery store, I was hit by a car. I was knocked off my bike, I hit my head, landed on my knee and my hands. My grocery bags flew out of the bike basket; it was a grand kerfuffle. Luckily, I landed away from traffic, in the parking lot of a convenience store. Convenient? Oh, how right they were!

I was so happy to be a girl as I sat on my bum in the lot of Lawson, crying my eyes out over my skinned knee. It hurt like &#$% and I had no need to pretend otherwise. I had not merely fallen off my bike, I had the assistance of a moving vehicle to jolt me! I was not comfortable.

In truth, though the pain was cumbersome, I was more bothered by the symbolism of it coupled with my terrible week and the fact that I had plans for the evening. I really did not want a car accident keeping me from the gym! (*sigh* But, so it goes...).

I was all jumbled as the bystanders asked me about an ambulance; it happened very quickly. I nearly refused one, because it didn't seem necessary, but, recalling that my head was hit, I decided it was worth getting checked out.

Verdict: Clean bill of health, but my knee is going to hurt for a while. (Apparently, so is my head and neck... -_-)

The women who hit me, to my surprise came to the hospital to pick me up and take me home. They also retrieved my bike for me. This was on top of paying my medical bills as required by Japanese law. I was quite touched.

I was extremely lucky. When being hit by a car on a bike, it certainly could have turned out worse! I'm so lucky to have ended up with only a minor injury!

However, I have now ridden in an ambulance thrice; all times in Japan and all times because of my left leg, so, Japan, my dear friend, I must ask you: Why no love for Lefty? Has it done something to wrong you?

I know "left" means sinister in Latin, but I haven't found any problems with Lefties here. I am a Righty, actually, but my leg, my leg... for some reason they want my leg!

Coincidentally, yesterday was Setsubun. It is the first day of spring in Japan. For Setsubun, people throw beans out of their houses, or at demons to get rid of the bad luck from the previous year. 2010 had me feeling like a bit of a schlemazel, so, I bought some setsubun beans, complete with demon mask! (Relax, it's for kids―sheesh). Since they did get thrown, albeit from my bike basket, does that count for the ritual? Oh, good gods, I hope so!

Free Movies in Kyoto!

I've been fortunate enough to have been living in Kyoto for the past month or so. When I was a student at Kansai Gaidai University, I came here often, but it was completely different from being able to spend all of my time here.

I have been doing a great deal of local tourism in this time; after all, who would want to leave Kyoto? (I know I don't). The gorgeous Fall colors have made it especially easy to stay put.

I have been living steps from the Kamo River and have been riding along it daily. I have been merely 15 minutes by bike from Sanjo, where one can get lost for hours in the labyrinth of shops in the arcade. I've also been close to beautiful temples such as Ginkakuji, or the Silver Pavilion. The latter is one of my favorite sights in Kyoto.

Another local trip I took was to Arashiyama. A friend and I went to view the Fall colors, or kouyou. This is a common activity in Japan currently. The leaves were just starting to turn, but it was worth the trip, nonetheless.

After a full day of mountain climbing (small mountains!) and walking along the river, the best part awaited: a "light up" in the woods. A small park was illuminated at night to reveal an entrancing scene.

These are just a few things I have been up to in the nearby areas. Some of my adventures have been planned and others have not. Some have been what you would go to Kyoto for, and some what you might go to any metropolis to experience. However, some have just been unexpected; for example, the Spongebob Squarepants Movie.

I went to a small outdoor mall this week. I had passed it before, while doing errands, and had decided to finally walk around it a bit. After leaving a store, I suddenly heard the Spongebob Squarepants theme song blaring from the mall's courtyard. I was instantly curious.

The movie was playing, in Japanese, (though the theme song remained in English) on a big screen TV in the court yard. I was a big fan of the show during college, but had never seen the movie. The randomness of, of all things, the Spongebob Squarepants Movie, playing while I was shopping was too delightful; how could I not stop and watch for a bit? There were nice tables and chairs, so, I sat to enjoy the film. Moreover, my friend had just sent me candy corn from the States for Halloween, and it was with me after stopping at the post office. I had everything I needed for an American movie night. Sometimes my unplanned outings are my most interesting ones.

Kyoto has truly captured my heart. I could stay here for quite a while...

And They Never Wore Clean Clothes Again...

I've had some time off for a while. My apologies for neglecting this blog for a bit.

I've been staying with a friend recently. Unfortunately, her washer is broken at the moment. Two nights ago, she said  "I'm going to the laundromat." 

I'm a habitual laundry procrastinator.  Due to that, as well as the fact that I still had clean clothes for a day or so, I almost put off doing laundry for one more day.  But, no, the thought of freshly washed undies, one day early, was too sweet. 

We got to the laundromat and set up shop.  We waited for the washer/dryers to work their magic.  (Holy fuppety!  They self-load the detergent!)  I sat chatting on IM and playing Bejeweled Blitz on my iPhone, while wishing I remembered to bring a book; Megan read the one she brought.   About halfway through the spin-cycle, Megan rose to call her mom.  She suddenly looked a little perturbed.  "There's a guy outside with his thing out..."  I looked up at her in shock.  Surely she didn't mean....  No, she did mean that.  

It happened quickly.  Megan narrated the whole scene for me.  In truth, I was too scared to look.  I didn't want to give him the attention he obviously sought. It was just Megan and I there, so, I tried my best to stay cool.  Apparently, I did a much better job than I initially thought, since Megan reported later that I did look calm.

Apparently, he exposed himself for a while, then he masturbated for some time, then he just shook himself around for a bit.  (Again, this was happening rapidly; much faster than I'm making it sound).  We were trying to discuss what we should do. He started walking toward the door.  I called the police.  Once he saw my phone, he bolted. 

Telling the police "There's a man outside with his penis hanging out" was an interesting start.  I'm certain I've learned the clinical word for penis before, but I don't exactly have the chance to use it all that often.  I could only think of a juvenile word for it.  It was the equivalent of saying "A man has his wee-wee sticking out."  It was so embarrassing!  (Editor's note: I have since learned that the word in question both carries a childish and lurid connotation).  I figured, "I'm a foreigner; at least they can understand me.  It's better than if I didn't know the word at all.  What if I hadn't?"  

The police came in less than ten minutes.  There were three officers; two male, one female.  Megan and I had the impression that they brought the young, female one for our sake, which we much appreciated.  They asked us questions.  Megan described the person to the best of her ability.  Unfortunately, the laundromat had a thick (and one thin) stripe painted along all the windows, which hit right where his face was. It seems like they were actually put there for the privacy of the laundry patrons.  They were unfortunately a bit too effective. 

She couldn't describe his face, but knew that he had no hair.  He also fashioned a short, denim skirt from jeans for the occasion.  Yes, that's right, this guy wasn't just a flasher, he was an industrious one.  He actually went out and made Flashwear!  (Yeah...  I joke now, but, given that there was a man in there with us, just a few minutes prior, and a bit after, it did seem like he was out there waiting for the two girls to be on their own.  That was a bit disturbing).  Beyond Megan's description, we acted out our reaction to the matter. 

The officers told us to stay put while they drove around and looked for him.  After about 30 minutes, they came back.  They hadn't found him.  They asked for another account of what we saw and how we reacted.  They told us that if they figured out anything, they'd let us know. Then, they gave us a ride home, which we happily accepted. 

On the way to the car, we pointed out that there was a video camera outside, which he would have walked directly in front of, according to Megan.  They did not seem particularly interested, which bothered us.  I'm hoping that they only reacted that way to not rile us up or raise our hopes. 

If either of us need clean clothes again before Megan's washer is fixed, they're going in the sink. 

飲もう?

お久しぶりですね。(It's been a while, hasn't it?) I haven't been updating for a while, so I'll go back in time a bit for the next few entries.

After school wrapped up in December, I went to my first company party. These 宴会, or enkai, are company drinking parties. I'll tell you all about it in today's entry, "Shall We Drink?"

I was a bit nervous about attending one as I don't drink. I don't mean that in the "Oh, I seldom drink" sense, like most people. I don't drink at all. Don't get the wrong idea. I have no problem with alcohol; I just think it tastes vile. It's a little odd coming from the granddaughter of a bar owner, but, oh, does it taste vile...

I'd learned all about these shindigs in my Business Japanese classes, but, of course, such information is only a loose guideline; how do these things pan-out in real life? In addition to worrying about protocol for socializing with the workplace, I was still on my crutches at the time. "What am I getting myself into?" I wondered.

To my delight, part of the fee for the party included a bus chartered by the school. It was coming to pick me up about 1/8 of a mile from my apartment. I hobbled to the stop on my four legs and waited. The bus ride there provided a big surprise for some of the wives of my co-workers. Suddenly, a foreigner was on the bus. One of the wives started talking to me...well... sort of... She kept asking my friend questions about me in Japanese, assuming I didn't speak the language. Despite my answering each question and her understanding, she still didn't seem to get that I spoke it. Finally, I interjected that I was perfectly capable of talking to her. She was a bit surprised, but then her husband joked "Oh, well, you can speak Japanese, but I don't know about my wife..."

Although I was initially nervous, the party turned out to be really enjoyable. After paying our entry fee (equivalent to about 50 US dollars) we sat down to dinner. I was quite surprised, as I had expected there to only be drinking. The meal consisted of several small gourmet dishes. I learned that I do not like escargot. To my surprise, dessert was a slice of watermelon. As Japan has essentially turned cake design into a fine art, this was startling. Consider the affair's admission fee; for fifty dollars, there should be cake.

After the meal, three of my male co-workers burst onto the stage in drag. The site of them in shiny, silver lamé dresses, blonde wigs, heels and makeup sent the room into hysterics. They sang one song for us, then ran off the stage. I only wished I had my camera.

The next of our festivities was a "game." Since they pulled out a Bingo caller, I assumed that is what we would be playing. Their idea of "game" was much better, however. They simply called our raffle ticket numbers until each attendee won a prize. I was given an extra one and was quite touched.

Next, we had a bit more drinking and time to chat. I had a nice time with co-workers I see only briefly in the day-to-day. Suddenly, we were all called up to sing the school song, which closed the evening. I'm glad to have not missed the event.

四つ足先生の物語

When I learned I was moving to Kyuushuu, the southernmost island of Japan, I laughed about the placement with my family. Due to being only about 56 miles from Nagasaki and 210 miles from Hiroshima, I was certain I was doomed to grow additional appendages. Well, last week, my fears, once proclaimed in jest, came to fruition-I am now the proud recipient of two crutches, or, as I prefer to say, I'm walking around on four legs, as I've suggested in today's title, "The Legend of the Four-legged Sensei."

Last week, I slipped on a huge bump in the pavement while walking to the grocery store. It was quite dark out and a car's hood had been covering said bump. I didn't see it at all. My ankle turned completely and I fell slightly under the hood. I flipped out thinking the driver didn't see me. I raised my arm and tried to stand, but couldn't. I repeated the attempt, but it was an exercise in futility. So it goes. But, fortune was on my side in the most unlikely of times and places! The driver got out of the car to check on me and helped me over to a railing next to the driveway I had fallen in. I realized I couldn't walk more than the few steps I had and seriously wondered how I would get home. I live here by myself. I know few people and do not have a car.

I looked up and realized, however, that the driveway I had fallen in was that of the local hospital! Well, holy mackerel... As far as inconveniences, you do not get more convenient than that. The driver happened to work there. He called and asked if someone could see me, then drove me to the front door. It was so kind of him. After my appointment, I emerged on my shiny, new (okay, well, moldy, old) pair of crutches, then caught a ride home with one of the few people I know here; another kindness I was so lucky to receive.

Working on the crutches has been interesting. Of all the things I would miss from home, I never thought that ADA regulations would be one of them. All of my schools are two or three floors and there is no elevator. In one of my schools, the bathroom is in the other building. Alright, well, there is a teacher's bathroom right by the office, but that is an eastern-style one. So as not to take up more of your time, I'll let the great and powerful Wiki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squat_toilet) tell you about those. While I can, have and will use those if there is no other choice afforded to me, with other options available, I opt for the western-style, which is unfortunately across a long, outdoor walkway, another stretch of a hallway, down the stairs and then about 500 feet. -_- It's a quick, little jaunt walking, but hopping on crutches, not as such.

Of course, those of you kind enough to read my adventures know how I got my extra legs, but the kinder at my schools do not. They understand that I was attacked by a zebra. The students have adjusted to my wacky madcappery and broke out with laughter. I then pointed out the pinstripes on their uniforms and pretended to be frightened at the reminder of my attacker. They lapped it up. It was fantastic. Throughout the day, one of the kinder would occasionally ask me "It was a zebra?" if they saw me in the hall. I would reply affirmatively and remind them that they should always be careful of zebras, since Kyuushuu is rife with them and is a very dangerous place. Of course, as Kyuushuu may not even have a zebra in a zoo, this was an excellent, yet surprising way the students and I could have fun together.

Some of the kinder were unbelievably sweet. If they saw me going up or down the stairs and trying to hold the crutches in one hand, while grabbing the railing with the other, they would instantly take and carry them for me. A few were kind enough to hold doors as well. I did have a couple of little jokesters who gave me my very own onomatopoeia, though! Apparently, walking with crutches sounds like "K'chonk, k'chonk, k'chonk." It's quite nice to know that.

I have not been able to go anywhere farther than work or the nearest convenience store since my accident. For work, I've had to spend an obscene amount on cabs (I fear for my budget!) and for the latter, I've resorted to hobbling there on my crutches. Despite growing up watching The Simpsons quite faithfully, I had no desire to do all my grocery shopping at the local Kwik-E-Mart as they do. It's rather expensive and they have a lack of foods with a cromulent nutritional value. (Fortunately, due to my obsession with broccoli, I was more than well-stocked previously). I was at least lucky to have that as an option, though. Having tired of (read: gone mad from) the Kwik-E-Mart food, I took a cab to the grocery store a few nights ago.

Even by cab, going to the grocery store has not been particularly easy. Sure, the cab drops me at the door, but then what? The carts here are about 1/4 of the size of shopping carts in the States. They are sized to hold the hand baskets. Hence, when I went to put one of my crutches in the cart, I had to put it on it instead–diagonally across. Now, what to do about walking without using my foot? I had the other crutch still under my left side, held the shopping cart with my right hand and stood only on my right foot. Then I slid the cart slightly with my right hand while hopping on my right foot. Then, I propelled myself with my left crutch. I slide-hopped around the whole store. It was hilarious, but a bit less fun than you might think.

To my surprise, while slide-hopping about, a person I'd never met before stopped me and asked if he could help me. When I hesitated, he insisted. He took me around the entire store, then bagged my items for me (in Japan, you bag your own groceries). He took my bags out and asked me where my car was. When I told him I came by taxi, he offered to drive me home. He also stopped at the drug store because there was an item I couldn't get at the supermarket. He did this without my asking him to do so. Then he walked everything up to my door for me. I was overwhelmed by his kindness. I never imagined a complete stranger would have gone so far out of his way for me.

I look forward to being rid of these cumbersome things and should be soon.

訳に迷ちゃった．．．

Forgive the pun... I titled this entry "Lost in translation;" I've actually never seen the movie, but it seemed to apply greatly to today's adventures. (I so love a great pun...) I found myself in Fukuoka today. The main purpose of my trip today was unfortunately postponed; it's starting to be something I'm wondering if I'll ever accomplish. When my original plans fizzled out, I resorted to shopping around Tenjin Station, as I had no desire to have wasted a trip to Fukuoka entirely.

It turned out just fine-it's not as if I ever mind shopping in Tenjin. I began looking for New Year's cards to send home. Amidst those and the generic Christmas cards, I found one that was rather unusual. It's a house which says "Season's Greetings" on the roof. There are four windows, two of which feature very Christmasy items-Santa and a wreathe. There's also a pig in one, which just confused me. The remaining window, however, had... a menorah?!? Come again? Yep, that's right, folks, nine branches. Well, 8 and the shamas. (Shamas=lead candle). That'd be a certified Chanukah menorah. Well, color me surprised. I was more than a bit shocked, but would be willing to bet it was a coincidence. Either that, or Japan has taken OC reruns a bit too seriously and is thinking "Chrismukkah" is a new trend.

I took a short walk around outside the station. I laughed when I saw the Hush Puppies sign. I know American brands are everywhere around the world and certainly in Japan, but Hush Puppies just don't seem like the mark of glamour that other brands might. As I got closer, I saw that it was also partially a Foot Locker. Well, actually, not quite... The sign actually read "Foot Lock." I took out my cell phone to take a picture of the sign and someone from the store was curious as to why. I explained. He was shocked and thanked me. I apologized and bowed, then moved on.

On the way back to the subway, I needed to ask a station attendant something. I waited in line behind two Japanese people, as often happens, so, at first I wasn't paying attention. Suddenly, I realized that the two Japanese people were speaking in English to him–with American accents. Realizing that they were Japanese-American and didn't speak Japanese, and still seemed to be lacking information from the attendant who was really trying hard to help them, I decided to step in and try to be of assistance. They reminded me of my first trip to Japan. I was in high school and spoke some Japanese, but very little; my parents and I stood there trying to get help from the attendant in English-I certainly empathized.

When I jumped in to help, everyone looked a little surprised. You could kind of hear that "one of these things is not like the other" song from Sesame Street going on in their heads. It was amusing to all parties involved.

I get a lot of mixed reactions when people know I'm about to speak here. I imagine it's the same for foreigners anywhere; this is just the only place I've lived as a foreigner. Sometimes people assume I couldn't possibly comprehend this language or be understandable, others fawn all over me, saying that even the simplest word I've said has been skillfully done (that's actually quite insulting) and, of course, there are plenty who just take what I say as it comes, like I would hope anyone would do anywhere. Tonight, before I grabbed one of my trains, I stopped to grab a quick bite to eat. The waitress was one of the nervous types described in the first group. Suddenly, I saw a smile on her face, as she saw that I passed all rungs of my order without any mishaps, additional work or frustration on her part. I found it somewhat amusing. Cut to my train ride immediately after. Finally in my seat, a Japanese woman asked me if the train was going to my stop. I was so shocked at first that I didn't say anything. This was because I rarely get asked for things like directions by Japanese people. Immediately upon my pause, she switched and asked the question in English. Surprised again, I said yes, in Japanese, then said　"日本語で良い！" (It's okay to [to ask me] in Japanese!)

清水寺

There is an extremely famous, and equally stunning, temple in Kyoto called 清水寺. (Kiyomizudera–Kiyomizu is the temple's name and dera is temple in Japanese. They are put together as if you were saying Kiyomizu Temple in English).

For some reason, my little town Ogi has not one, but two such named temples. I still do not know why. When I first learned I would be living here, I researched the area as much as I could. One of the high points I found was Kiyomizu. I was so excited to see its beautiful waterfall and whatever else might be within. About three weeks after arriving, I found a sign that said "清水." Excited, I rode my bike there, walked around, spent two hours exploring and taking photos. While I found a beautiful temple right in my town, about half a mile from my grocery store, there was no waterfall. I was rather disappointed.

After discussing with co-workers, I discovered that Ogi indeed had two. I had been to the other. Imagine the absurdity of going to "the other temple named Kiyomizu..." I had to laugh. While still determined to find my intended Kiyomizu, I hadn't the foggiest on how to get there. I consulted my friend the internet. It told me that it was difficult to get there without a car (I do not have one) and that there is no bus service or train there. My friendship with the internet was at once on the rocks.

About two weeks later, I accidentally discovered it. Riding my bike around town, I saw a sign that indicated "Kiyomizu Waterfall." "Hmmm..." I thought. There was only an arrow pointing straight out, with the not so daunting "3km" next to it. "I can do 3 kilometers." I reasoned. I asked a woman standing on the street for directions beyond ↑. She told me "No, that's really all there is to it, just go straight, but, I don't think you can do it..." I do a lot of biking, though, so, such a distance seemed small; I just thanked her and rode on.

I didn't realize why she thought I wouldn't be able to ride there until I was peddling up the mountain. I hadn't quite realized it would be all the way up a mountain. I did manage to climb to the top on my single-speed bike, however, when I tell locals, they are usually flabbergasted–and sometimes my students think I rode my bike all the way to Kyoto... I had quite a sense of accomplishment. Kiyomizu is my favorite place I've found in Saga Prefecture thus far. Beyond that, while riding up the mountain may have been a bit of a challenge, riding down it... Well... That was the best ten minutes in recent memory! That's right, 3km in ten minutes! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Tonight was the last of Ogi's festival in Kiyomizu. For the last week, they have illuminated the temple at night. Having bus service for the occasion was a bonus! I was thrilled to return. The fall colors lit up with the backdrop of Kiyomizu Falls was spectacular. My town is tiny and quiet, but has this gem hidden deep within.

はじめまして

When I arrived in Japan nearly three months ago, I said "はじめまして" (hajimemashite–nice to meet you) seemingly infinite times. Now that I'm finally setting up this blog, I'll say it again. はじめまして。

In late August, I boarded a plane in Detroit for Japan's southern-most island, Kyuushuu, hoping that two suitcases was enough to hold all my worldly possesions. I am now here on the first in a series of adventures on which I'm eagar to embark; this one is teaching English in three high schools in rural Saga prefecture. Who knows what the world holds next?

Since I've been here, I have learned to live, work and pay my bills in my second language. I have been loving things about Japan that I missed greatly when I returned to the States after studying abroad; I have been missing things about the States equally while here, as well. I have been able to travel more here and look forward to every additional occasion I can do so. I have met wonderful people in my little town here–all in all, I am quite enjoying my time on the "other side of the world."

I hope you enjoy following my days in the life.