How I Spent My Summer Vacation

I think my time at home was just right (ちょっどいい！). I felt like time didn’t go too fast or too slow; I just felt like I was never in one place long enough to enjoy all there was to do or see everyone I wanted to see. I only saw six of my friends individually; the rest were all lumped together in a group (so sorry, guys!).


In a way, it was all just a blur: three days here; two days there; three days back here. The longest I was in one place was the week I spent with my family in Littleton (The Small Town With the Big Heart, Gateway to Beautiful Lake Gaston). But even then I didn’t put my clothes into the dresser like I should have; I just kept living out of my suitcase.

After I got used to the time difference (for the most part), I went shopping! My mom took me to Hanes Mall for makeup, the Kernersville Salvage Store for salvage (), Old Navy and Gap for clothes, and Target for school supplies and everything else. I actually bought so much at Target to justify buying stock in it, I think. Being able to recognize brand names and read labels is so amazing! And I found a ton of stuff for school everywhere I went: lined manuscript tablets, vocabulary flashcards, reward pencils, $30.00 worth of paper-correcting stickers, and more, which I packed up and mailed to myself at school.

After a few days at my mom’s house, I went to my dad’s. I had been dying to go for a swim ever since the students started swimming in June, so I spent most of the first day in his pool. My second day, though, I walked outside at 8:30 in the morning to hang my bathing suit up to dry in the sun. But when I went to open the door to go back inside, I realized it was locked. So I spent the next four hours (while dad was at work) trying and failing to break into his house, sobbing in frustration that all my morning plans were shot, reading old copies of the Littleton Observer that I found on the porch, playing with Mangle (my cat), swimming, and being thirsty. Lucky I had my bathing suit, though, huh. And Mangle and I were due for a little quality human-cat time. It was a pretty rotten morning but eventually turned into a nice day of accompanying Dad to Warren County for an afternoon of work. (Honestly, it was fun!)

                                                                           Fun day!

Back in Greensboro, I had dinner with a big group of friends and a drink with a small group of friends. I was supposed to have a party with my old CNNC clients on Saturday, but the message didn't get around in time so it was cancelled. Instead, I just stopped by Dolores’s and Maria’s houses for a quick visit. It was fun, but I didn’t get to eat any home-cooked Mexican food! Maria did give Eddie and me a slice of cake, which was the size of the paper plate she served it on. It was delicious but hard to finish!

I spent the week of July 31 to August 5 at Stonehouse Timber Lodge in Littleton. It was so funny to be vacationing just three miles from where I grew up! There has always been a bit of tension between the locals and the “lake people” who just come on vacation, and here we were converted into them! It was really lovely though to spend a week with my brother and his family, my sister and her family, Mom, Rusty, and Duchess (the dog), after such a long time away. The whole week was spent swimming, boating, reading, relaxing, playing Bananagrams, eating delicious food, cracking jokes about the quantity of snakes in the lake, and spending time with my niece and nephews. It was definitely the best part of being home. Fambly.

BBQ at Grandpa's Barbeque

Sunset on Lake Gaston

You remember my long list of things I wanted to eat. Well, I got through almost everything on my list! (Not everything, but almost everything.) Sometimes it was just a bite (like of Jonathan’s biscuits and gravy) and sometimes it was more than I could eat (like that 16-ounce steak), but it was divine to savor so many exquisite tastes! I also enjoyed a different microbrewed beer with almost every restaurant meal I had! The only things I still have a hankering for are sliced dill pickles (not hamburger chips), spiced apple rings, and baklava (thank you very much for sending those through the mail).


On a final note, I’d like to ask you all to boycott Budget Rental Cars for me, please. I had reserved a car online for $350.00, but the price shot up to $600 when I added insurance at the desk at pick-up time. (“But don’t worry,” the lady behind the counter told me. “$200 of that is just a hold on your credit card; it’s really just $450.00.”) When I went to drop off the car (two days early, might I add), I was told I would receive no discount for dropping it off early, that my new total was $903.00, and that I still had to pay a balance of about $500.00.

“No,” I told them as politely as I could. “I signed for $600. I’m not going to pay more.” (Breach of contract, or something like that.) After a civil conversation with the incompetent soul behind the counter, the manager was finally summoned. It seems that I had been charged for extra services I didn’t receive (like satellite radio or GPS). The issue was finally resolved and I “only” paid $600.00, but I’m still furious about the whole thing because it was supposed to be just $350.00, so I thought. I’m also disappointed with the incompetence of people, who can only stare dumbly at the computer screen before them and not have a word of explanation for the politely irate customer in front of them.

All in all, though, I had a wonderful time, and I’m happy I was able to go back home! Now I just need to think about what to do next year.

North Carolina Preface

(I promise the rest of my NC blog will be jumbled together and in bulletpoint form, with actual events and perhaps pictures, so stick with me just a little longer.) 

When I first landed at the Minneapolis airport after 11 hours of flying, I was jetlagged, cramped, and not thinking clearly. My body was still on Japan time (somewhere around 4:00 a.m.) and my brain was mush. As I walked through the hallway towards the gate whose flight would take me to Raleigh, I stared openly at all the non-Japanese people and clutched my handbag to my chest as if I were lost in the middle of some unknown jungle, instead of just making a trip through an airport. Everything seemed both reassuringly familiar but disastrously different at the same time, and I waited for my flight in a fog of culture shock and sleepiness, listening to the English all around me.  

            Three hours later, we touched down at RDU, but I couldn’t summon the energy to cheer. Even when I realized that no one was waiting for me at the gate, I just sleepwalked over to baggage claim, then propped myself up against a pole while waiting for someone to show up. It was only about three minutes later when I saw my mom come flying through the crowd towards me to envelop me in a huge bear hug. Traffic had been bad, she explained with her arms around me, and they couldn’t get to the airport on time.

            On the two-and-a-half-hour drive back to Winston-Salem, I made myself stay awake, but as soon as we got home I had a shower and hit the hay. I slept from 10:00 p.m. to 1:00 the next afternoon.

            The next day, Saturday, I sat in mom’s backyard, reading “Spiral” by Koji Suzuki (what a terrible ending) and trying to soak up as much direct sunlight as possible, because that’s what all the articles say you should do to recover from jetlag. I don’t think I did one productive thing the entire day, and it was wonderful. Mom and I spent all day together, I played the piano a little, and didn’t do much of anything else.

            I went to sleep at 11:00 p.m. and was wide-awake at 3:30 a.m.

            At five, I got out of bed where I had been reading, and started to slink around the house. I couldn’t go outside because the house has an alarm system I was sure to trip. So I stayed in the kitchen and read the newspaper and ate cereal, watching the dawn slowly creep in.

            Somehow I made it through the day with only one nap, and then I was, more or less, back on the right schedule. 

Progress

I was organizing my apartment today when I stumbled upon the Japanese textbook for first graders that my first Japanese teacher gave to me back in September or October last year.

I opened it up to that hateful Mr. Fox and Mr. Bear story that made me cry, and wouldn't you know, I read the whole 9 pages (of really big type and colorful pictures) in under ten minutes. And I understood the whole thing! It's amazing what a few months of study can do. But I remember how much that damn story frustrated me back when I knew nothing, and it feels so good to be able to kick its ass now. (フランス語ごめん.）

In other literary news, I just finished wading through six months of "Umi to Kontakuto", a 124-page upper elementary school book, in June, and that felt good, too. I didn't understand about 40% of it, but I was able to follow the basic gist all the way to the end, page by excruciating page.

If I'm going to be taking N3 in December, I need to get on the ball! But at least I know I can hold my own against a Japanese six-year old. Let's do this thing!

14 Hours Till Take-Off

I will write a long post about my lovely North Carolina vacation very soon, but in the meantime I just wanted to let you know I am on my way back to Japan. I leave Raleigh at 11:00 a.m. on Wednesday and get to Tokyo at 5:30 p.m. on Thursday. See you soon!

21 Hours Till Take-Off

Tomorrow I will be getting on an airplane and flying back to America for the first time in almost a year. It's been just shy of a full 365 days, something like 51 weeks I think. I've absolutely worn myself out with travel preparations, coordinating transportation to and from all airports involved, packing my bags, cleaning my house, and making plans (seriously, I have a two-page "to buy" list and an absolutely packed schedule for every day I'm in the States). And emotionally, I'm fluttering between being absolutely ecstatic at to see my family and friends in America, and really sad to say goodbye to a lot of my ALT friends in Japan who are moving back to their home countries. This time of the year is just full of changes, and I'm all over the place! If I can survive the next 36-48 hours, I think I'll be OK!

Getting home involves:

1) Sleeping at a friend's house near Takasaki Station tonight because I live too far away
2) Taking the 8:25 a.m. bus to Narita airport (arriving around noon) on Friday
3) Taking an 11-hour flight from Narita to Minnesota (of all places)
4) A 2-hour layover which is hopefully enough time to go through customs and re-check in, plus eat something
5) A 3-hour flight to Raleigh, landing around 7:00 p.m.
6) A 2-hour-ish car ride to my mom's house, arriving around 9:00 p.m. Friday night, 8:00 a.m. Japan time.

Basically, it'll take 24 hours to get home. Uffff. I can do it, though! Ganbarimasu!

By the way, I find it fascinating that according to Google Maps (and personal experience), it takes 35 minutes to drive the 28 miles between Greensboro and Winston-Salem. And yet at the same time, it takes the exact amount of time to drive the 6.2 miles between my house and Takasaki Station.

Goodbye!

Would You Like Rice With That Newspaper Subscription?

A few weeks ago I had a pretty unnerving experience with a door-to-door newspaper seller. I was getting ready to go to a BBQ in the mountains when I got a knock at the door. When I opened it, the guy standing there gave himself an involuntary shake (“Who’s this white girl?!”) before giving me a sorta-kinda professional smile.

“Japanese, Japanese, Japanese, shimbun, Japanese, Japanese, Japanese,” he said. He was maybe in his early 30s, wearing regular street clothes and no nametag. He didn’t offer me a business card. His white van was parked in front of my apartment building.

“Shimbun?” I asked dumbly. “Newspaper?”

“Yes!” he said in English. “Nu-su-pei-pa!”

“Daijoubu desu, nihongo wo yomemasen,” I told him, and made to shut the door, thinking that was it. (That’s OK, I can’t read Japanese.)

“Japanese Japanese Japanese ikagetsu dake Japanese,” he told me, not letting me shut him out just yet. (….just for a month….)

“Honto ni, nihongo wo yomemasen. Shimbun ga irimasen. Arigatou.” (No, really, I can’t read Japanese. I don’t need a newspaper. Thank you.)

“Japanesejapanesejapanesejapanesejapanesericejapanesejapanese! Chotto matte kudasai.” (….rice…wait just a second.)

He bounded down the stairs and I shut the door, immediately grabbing my cell phone to call my Japanese friend who was on his way to my house to pick me up for the party. Unfortunately, his English isn’t all that good over the phone.

“Hey! Where are you?” I asked. “There’s some guy at my house. Will you please ask him what he wants, and tell him to leave?”

“Nani? Nani?” (What? What?)

I repeated myself slower, but by this time, Newspaper Man was back, carrying a 5- or 10-kilo bag of rice with him.

“Nevermind,” I told my friend. “Just hurry up and get here.”

Newspaper Man stepped into my entryway where I take my shoes off, and shut the door behind him. Oh no. Luckily he stayed there, and didn’t try to come all the way into my house. (Sure, the entryway is considered public property in Japan, but you’re not supposed to shut the door!)

“Nanika u . . . ura . . . ure . . urimasuka?” I stumbled over the Japanese word. (Are you selling something?)

“Sou desu!” (Yes!) He started chattering away in Japanese again, and I interrupted him in English.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want a newspaper subscription, even if it is just for one month, I don’t need one, I can’t read Japanese, and what’s that rice all about? Will you please leave?”

“Dou imi, dou imi? Wakarimasen.” (What’s that mean? I don’t understand.)

“Irimasen! Sayonara!” (I don’t need it. Goodbye!)

He put the bag of rice at his feet and switched registers from polite to casual, putting the bag of rice at his feet. “Hitori de sundeiruno? Kare ga iruka?”(Do you live by yourself? Do you have a boyfriend?)

“Kare ga inai, hoshikunai!” I matched his register. (I don’t have a boyfriend; I don’t want one!)

“Nande?!” (Why not?!)

“Iranai. Shimbun mo iranai. Sayonara.” (I don’t need one. I don’t need a newspaper either. Goodbye.)

I wish I knew how to say, “Please go away,” or “Please leave,” in Japanese. He was crouched down in the entryway like he was going to stay for a while, the bag of rice (whose purpose I still didn’t understand) lying like a well-trained dog between his feet. I was hoping if I just said “goodbye” often enough he’d get the picture. Obviously he didn’t.

I tried in English anyway. “Please go away. My friends are coming in a few minutes to pick me up. Please go away. I don’t want anything.”

Of course he didn’t understand, and I was getting frustrated with this failing conversation that I didn’t even want to be having in the first place. It’s not like I had invited him in. He smiled sleezily and pointed at his face.

“Ore ga? Iranai?” (What about me? You don’t need me?)

“Iranai yo!” I lost my temper. “NANIMO kaitakunai, NANIMO hoshikunai, SAYONARA!” (NO! I don’t want to buy anything, I don’t want anything, goodbye!”)

I pointed at the door, pointed at him, and pointed at the door again. “Sayonara!”

I think he got the picture that time. He picked up his bag of rice, and with a half-hearted “sumimasen,” walked out the door. I double locked it and waited for my friends to come.

The next day was Saturday. I was hanging my laundry out on my balcony around noon when I saw that familiar white van pull up. Newspaper Man got out, glanced up at me, and hurriedly walked to my neighbor’s door with his head down. When she didn’t answer, he scuttled back to his van, slammed the door, and drove away in a hurry. I haven’t seen him since.

Whatever happened to the polite Japanese not wanting to intrude on anyone? Why push the issue of selling a newspaper to a girl who can’t even read it, even if she does get a free bag of rice with a one-month subscription? Why not just say, “Oh, excuse me,” and walk away as soon as she says, “No thanks”? Why try to force the issue? And why get all personal?!

***

By the way, the polite version of “Please go away” is “Kaitte kudasai.” Or you want to be a bit stronger, “Kaere!” Things I wish I had known . . . 

Nothing Too Special

Nothing terribly exciting is happening, but here are a few of the normal things that have been going on.

1)   I’ve had a terrible cold for the past week and a half! It started in my head, moved to my throat, has now settled permanently in my nose, rendering a trash can full of tissues. Gross. I’m ready to be able to breathe! I went home from school early last Wednesday and missed my Japanese class, much to my teacher’s chagrin (this is the second time I’ve missed class in three weeks). That night one of my friends biked over from Maebashi to bring me ginger ale, throat drops, and lemon tea, which was much appreciated and helped a lot. The nurse at school finally convinced me to go to the doctor, so I went with her after school yesterday. The doctor’s visit was all in Japanese, but it was super quick (20 minutes from in to out) and super cheap (1480 yen for the visit plus 4 different kinds of medicine). I hope I get better soon: it’s been 10 days now! Come on!

2)   It’s been unbearably hot recently! Hot like you take a cold shower, step out, and are immediately covered in sweat again. During the winter’s frigidity, I had forgotten what the summer was like. Now I remember. The rainy season is over, and 90-degree mugginess has arrived. I come home from work, close myself in my bedroom, and turn on the air conditioner. Classrooms at school are sweltering, even though they’ve got the ceiling fans on. Only the staff room is air conditioned, and thank God for that. But we are all suffering.

3)   I haven’t gone to the track-and-field club after school for almost two weeks! It’s terrible! I just don’t feel like being outside and running recently. On Saturday, the big Rikujo Taikai (Track-and Field Tournament, kind of like Field Day in elementary school) was held. I really wanted to be there all day to cheer for my track friends, but I had to miss the morning to teach a class. I arrived in time for the all-class relays, which were done under a drizzly sky. I even met two girls’ mothers, and was happy that I knew who their kids were!

4)   The kids are starting to give their "Reflection" after cleaning time in English!  This started when the VP wasn't there one afternoon, so the secretary and I became in charge. For the past three days, the kids who clean the staff room are trying their best, and it's so amazingly cute! They come up with sentences like, “Today, clean-shimashita. Tomorrow mo fight-o shimasu! Gokurosama deshita. Thank you!” Today it was, "Today wa chotto slow deshita. Kondo motto fast shimashou." You tell 'em, Hajime!

5)   I have a story about a crazy newspaper seller guy, but I'll write that later. 

6)   I’m going home in three weeks, yo! In the meantime, here are my plans:

July 2: Fourth of July/Canada Day BBQ at Onogami Onsen Park

July 3: Japanese Language Proficiency Test (JLPT), Level 4

July 8-10: Fuji Lakes trip

July 15: Takasaki ALT Farewell Party

July 16: International party at Gunma University in Kiryu (my new Vietnamese college girl friend invited me)

July 20: Last day of school for summer break!

July 22: I’ll fly away, oh glory . . .

Tentative U.S. Schedule:

July 23-25: Sleep

July 28-30: Wilson

July 31-August 4: Lake Gaston with the fam

August 2: My 29^th birthday (eeeek!)

August 4-8 (?): Winston-Salem/Greensboro

August 9-10: Wilson

August 10: Depart from RDU

August 11: Arrive in Japan. Sleep for three days. 

I'll try to write interesting blog posts during all my travels. Thank you for being interested and for reading. :)