Golden Week: Part 1

(This post is rather long. Also early, because I won't be able to write a post tomorrow. I do it because I love you. <3)

It's now halfway through Golden Week and I feel like I'm just getting going. Hard to believe, really, when I consider just how much has happened since last Friday.

Fridays are one of two days in the week when I am sent on a half-hour bike ride to an Elementary school. The other day is Monday, which bookends my weeks nicely. This Friday, however, I was more concerned with whether or not I'd be able to make my train in time.

Luckily, it happened to be a week of home-visits. Every day last week, school would end after lunch and the students would head home. Shortly after, the teachers would stream out of the teacher room clad in identical black suits, carrying identical black briefcases, heading to their students' homes for a heart-to-heart with their students' parents. What that meant for me specifically, as a mere assistant teacher, was that I could finish up early and head to the Board of Education. From there, it's only 5 minutes by bicycle and I'm home.

I took full advantage of this fact. As soon as the clock hit 4:15, I ran down to my bike and turned a five minute ride into two minutes. At home, I rammed a long weekend's worth of clothes and toiletries into my backpack, and hopped back on my bike to head to the train station.

All in all, the entire procedure - BOE to home, packing, and home to train station - took about half an hour. And all I forgot was a tooth brush, which I soon found a ￥50 (~$0.60 USD) replacement for. Not too shabby.

Once in the great city of Okayama, the merriment began.

Our merry band

The plan was this: First, we would find a place to consume foods. Second, we would acquire the liquid beverages necessary to make the night perfectly forgettable. Finally, we would mosey on down to the club where our common friend was to execute his DJ skillz. At some point, presumably, we would have to emerge into the night/dawn and find something to do with ourselves. But we would cross that bridge when we got to it. And in the mean time, we could always book a capsule hotel.

As it so happened, we were bogged down from the first step. Our initial hopes of chowing down on a rooftop patio were beaten into nothing by the fact that Japan wasn't yet in "rooftop patio season." Instead, we ended up at a ridiculously over priced buffet restaurant that would later prove to be our downfall. You see, not only was it overpriced, it was also pretty much disgusting. In general, I'm not that picky when it comes to food quality. I have some picky habits (no bananas, thank you very much, and keep those raw tomatoes away from me), but if it's cooked, I'm usually okay with it. Still, I was admittedly daunted by what lay before me.

The fare was simple enough: fried rice and sushi, fried chicken and sausages, that sort of thing. But even the pasta was stale and seemed like it was, in fact, yesterday's dinner microwaved and presented today. Which made me suspicious of the sushi. Others, braver than me, tried the sushi and paid the price.

But that wouldn't come into play until later. In the mean time, we finished up our meal and headed out for the bar. It was time to take things to the next level. On the way we stopped into a konbini and bought ourselves a few chu-hais and canned beers. I know, real classy.

At the bar, we enlargened our group by about double. Possibly more, I'm not totally sure. We also consumed several more, slightly classier, drinks. Well, at least they weren't in cans. And I did have a glass of wine, which is definitely in a classier category than chu-hai.

Anyway, to cut a long list of drinks and drunken acts short, we got out of the bar after about an hour and a half, then headed to the club. As it turns out, the "club" was more like a private party for us. Not intended to be, I'm sure, but as we constituted about half the patrons, the club pretty much belonged to us.

Well, that's okay. I had expected it to be a small place.

Here, check out this video. It captures, in complete detail, the experience.

Seriously, I don't recommend watching the whole thing.

Sometime around 4 AM myself and a small remaining group stumbled out of the club. That small group then split into two and one group (mine) went to the capsule hotel while the other group went God knows where. Probably somewhere with more booze, if I were to guess.

As you might imagine, the following morning was something awful. I woke up after a fitful four hours of sleep and crammed some food into my mouth. An hour later, I was joined by two of my fellows and we plotted when to catch the train to Ise. One more person was supposed to join us, but the buffet food and booze had laid waste to his stomach and, quite frankly, he wasn't going to make it. He would try, he said, to catch a later train, but I wasn't holding my breath.

That day, not a whole lot was accomplished. Partly because our train didn't get into Ise until 2 PM. Mostly because actually doing things was not compatible with our current condition. To point: the first thing we did upon arriving in Ise was take a nap.

Us upon arrival.

Eventually we roused ourselves enough to make our way to a late lunch. We asked the hostelier for a recommendation and he pointed us in the way of Cafe Jamise. (You can see a picture of us here.) It turned out to be a truly awesome, chill spot. We seemed to be the only paying customers there, but we weren't alone. There was also some guy, apparently quite famous, playing a box-drum thing.

You know what, that description really doesn't do him justice. Let me try again.

There was also some guy, apparently quite famous, who introduced himself as Poutine. The entire time whilst we were talking, a constant drumming could be heard erupting from Mr. Poutine's direction - I quickly learned that this was a nearly unconscious act of his. The man's fingers drummed. It was their essence, their raison d'etre. A little bit later, he brought a Cajón out from his car and treated us all to a half hour of drum beats and finger rhythms that I could barely even follow with my eyes.

Suffice to say, he was pretty awesome.

We rounded out the rest of the day with some snacks by the river, an hour long game of 20 questions (highlights included "Under my bed" and "Air"), and shabu shabu. Just after sunset, we were joined by our final companion, who had finally ridden his stomach of all the vileness of the night before.

The next day could be an entire blog post in its own right. But as this post is already getting long, I'll sum it up in point form, chronological style.

• 10:00 AM - Awaken to our host playing super chill ambient music on his electric guitar.
• 10:30 AM - Wander into a konbini for breakfast, rush to the train station and barely make it onto the train for Futami and the Wedded Rocks.
• 10:45 AM - Arrive at the Wedded Rocks and wander about. Enjoy the ocean. Discover a several awesome frog statues. Collect sea shells and sea glass. Be happy.
• 11:45 AM - Catch train back to Ise.
• 12:00 noon - Arrive in Ise. Be disappointed at the fact that all the bikes have been rented. Decide instead to taxi it to the Inner Shrine of Ise Jingu.
• 12:20 PM - Arrive at Inner Shrine, wallet feeling somewhat lighter. Eat lunch. Wander the grounds. Get told off by security guards twice for failed attempts at Gaijin Smashing. Be rather impressed by the whole thing.
• 2:30 PM - Take a taxi back to the hostel. Check out, inspect bags, be cool. Drop off one of our number who is feeling rather exhausted. Walk to Outer Shrine of Ise Jingu. Encounter Power Rangers.
• 3:00 PM - Arrive at Outer Shrine. Walk around, realize that many of its buildings are exactly the same as the Inner Shrine, except that the whole thing is rather smaller and less pretentious. Be pleased.
• 3:45 PM - Walk back to hostel, pick up exhausted companion, walk to the train station and catch a train to Osaka.
• 5:45 PM - Arrive in Osaka. Drop things off at capsule hotel. Visit a record shop and be blown away by the cheap and awesome selections. Make our way to El Pancho. Be full of food and joy.
• 9:30 PM - Go to L&L, a tiny shisha bar in Shinsaibashi. Apparently it is also a favorite hangout of Boys2Men and "The Green Jedi". We decided the guy meant Liam Neeson. Be impressed. Also amused.
• 11:00 PM - Finally decide on a club to go to.
• 11:30 PM - Arrive at said club, only to be told we have to wait another fifteen minutes. We go to get another chu-hai from the nearby konbini.
• 11:45 PM - Enter the club, only to discover that, including the three of us, there are a total of 12 patrons. But it's okay, because it's so full of fake fog that we can barely even see each other. Proceed to dance. Witness the Great Circle Dancer. Drink. Be happy and exhausted.
• 3:00 AM - Finally exit the club and head back to the capsule hotel to get some sleep. Be amused at the porn playing on tv in the hallway, climb into capsule, fall asleep.

The next and final day of the first half of Golden Week (Monday, if you've managed to follow thus far) was a much slower day. We ended up just perusing some shops, catching a showing of Dirty Harry in northern Osaka, and finally taking the bus back home.

Since then, I've been in my inaka little town. Yesterday and today I had classes to teach. But now, that's all over. This evening, Golden Week resumes.

I'm comin' for ya, Fukuoka.

~Jeffles

What's in a Name?

So, the last post was kind of a non-post and I feel like I should make up for it. So here you go, have a Japan story.

One of the by-products of teaching English in a small community in Japan is that you tend to be around kids a lot. And when you're around kids a lot, it is inevitable that you are also going to be around their parents at some point. Because kids and parents go together like... like two things that go really well together.

Yesterday, one of my elementary schools held an open house day. What this amounted to was a horde of parents descending upon the school to watch their children in class. I'm unsure if they were there to support their kids or if they were there to see what kind of teachers their kids have. Possibly both reasons.

At any rate, I was not given any classes to demonstrate. Fine by me. The less responsibility foisted upon my shoulders, the better. Instead, I wandered about from class to class, showing my smiley face to all the little kidlets and saying hello to the parents.

At one classroom, I was approached by a particularly happy looking woman.

"Are you the English teacher?" she asked.

I replied in the affirmative.

"Oh great!" Her smile opened up wide enough to show her pearly whites. "You see my son over there? He has a younger brother now! Well, he already is the younger brother - he has an older sister, you know - but now there's another younger brother in the family."

Thinking she was just excited to talk to a foreigner who knew her son, I congratulated her. Given how fit she looked, I guessed the birth was not an immediately recent event. Still, it must be recent enough that it was noteworthy. I decided it has happened in the last few months.

"Well," she continued, "I told my son that he could name the new baby. He thought about it for a little bit, then said 'Canada'."

She laughed.

"Canada?" I replied, dumbfounded. Would a Japanese person actually use a name like that?

"That name is a little strange, of course," she said, "so we went with Kanata."

I told her I thought that was an excellent choice for a name. At that point her son barreled out of the classroom and into his mother. I grinned while she explained to the boy what she had just told me. He glanced at me shyly, then ran back into the classroom, presumably to escape my piercing gaijin eyes.

And there you have it. Your Jeffles has inspired the names of children in Japan. If that isn't internationalization, nothing is.

~Jeffles

The Shigyoushiki

Please pardon the lateness of this post. I fully intended to write yesterday, but somehow it just never happened. But it's for the best, really, because now I can write about the "shigyoushiki," or Opening Ceremony.

This story really begins a couple weeks ago. School had just ended for the year and I was mentally preparing myself to spend all day, every day, sitting at a desk with nothing productive to do. I would study Spanish, I decided. And because I am incapable of actually focusing on just one goal, I also decided to relearn how to do some basic programming. And to read some of those books that keep staring at me every time I go home.

Then my laptop exploded.

Jeffles Two Weeks Ago

Okay, I exaggerate. But the power cord had melted and the side of the computer started smoking. At first I smelled something burning, so I looked around. Had I lit incense and forgotten? It has been known to occur, but no, I hadn't done so this time. That's when I realized something was wrong and saw the stream of smoke rising from my laptop. Wasting no time, I reached for the power cord, hoping to yank it out and shut down the computer as quickly as possible. My first attempt was driven back, though, by a flurry of sparks erupting into my hand.

The true effect of the sparks, though, was to steel my determination. Lappy needed to be put down.

Heedless of the flying specks of fire, I grabbed the cord and yanked it out.

And I breathed. The sparks stopped, as did the smoke.

It's possible that all I needed was a new power cord, but between this event, my laptop's truly horrible speakers, its penchant for literally dying for no apparent reason, the common refusal to start up, the visual hues that keep changing and dead pixels that keep popping up, and the pure slowness and lack of power of the machine in spite of its annoyingly large size, I needed a new laptop. The next day I found PCTokyo and ordered myself a brand new machine. A week and a half later, it arrived.

With it also arrived a certain desire. This was a desire to play a new(ish) game. The newest game I've been able to play on my previous (exploded) laptop was a full five years old. So you see, I haven't exactly been enjoying top-of-the-line products. Thus it was, with a heart full of anticipation, I logged onto amazon.co.jp and ordered myself Skyrim.

What does this have to do with the Opening Ceremony? Well, you see, Skyrim arrived yesterday. And the Opening Ceremony was today. This morning, in fact.

Yes, I admit it. I did stay up until nearly 4:30 in the morning playing Skyrim, only to awaken three hours later to rush to work. Is Skyrim the reason I was late to the Opening Ceremony, the reason I wore an unwashed shirt covered in lint from an old sweater, but not a tie or a suit jacket, the reason I nearly fell asleep in the middle of the ceremony? Maybe not. But the chain of cause and effect has to start somewhere and that's as good a place as any.

I tried to waste no time, tried to get out the door as early as I could manage. But alas, fate was working against me.

I logged off my chat messenger and shut down my computer a full five minutes earlier than normal. Not thinking of anything beyond getting out the door, I grabbed the nearest button-up shirt, which ended up being the aforementioned lint-covered shirt. I grabbed my bag, affirming that all the necessary materials were present, and stepped toward the door.

Then I remembered, Friday is bottles and plastic garbage day. I checked I my watch. Crap. Fast as I thought I'd been moving, somehow five minutes had passed by in my preparations. Well, if I didn't take my trash out now, I'd have to wait two more weeks and plastic seriously knows how to pile up in Japan.

So I got my bags of plastics and bottles together, put on my coat and my bag, walked over to the garbage drop-off point, and then made my way back to my bike. Another five minutes elapsed. I was now officially late.

Well, I can just bike fast, I reasoned. Perhaps that might have saved five minutes, but at that moment I remembered something else I had to do: buy a bento lunch.

Normally, elementary school teachers (which is what I am on Fridays) eat the same school lunch as the students do. In fact, I have my very own personal schedule for which group of students I am supposed to eat with on which day. But today was a special day. Today there would be no kyuushoku. And late as I already was, there was no chance in hell that I'd be making my own lunch.

So I biked to a grocery store that is thankfully open 24 hours and somewhat on my way to school, picked up something tasty-ish looking, paid for it, and hopped back onto my bike. I was now a full ten minutes late.

If I bike really fast, I might be able to do it, I thought.

And maybe I would have been able to. Except that today I was biking directly into very strong winds for the entire ride. I'm talking the kind of wind that blows your umbrella inside out and threatens to pick up your grandma and deposit her in the next county over. Any dreams I had of making up the time I had lost were thereby shattered.

Grandma This Morning

Half an hour later, I arrived at a suspiciously quiet school. Suspiciously quiet in that it was as quiet as a school would be if all the students had been gathered into a single room and told to be quiet.

But here's the worst part. It hadn't even occurred to me that there might be an Opening Ceremony today until half way through my bike ride. On my schedule, all it says is that my day is full of meetings. No mention of the Opening Ceremony. (This would be why I was not wearing a suit and tie.)

So I arrived at the Opening Ceremony entirely unprepared, under-dressed, and late. What a way to start the school year and make a good first impression on the new teachers, eh?

The ceremony itself was quite boring, actually, and not very different from the sort of assemblies we have in Canada and the US.

All the students sat down in lines according to what grade and class they were in. Then the principle stood up and introduced the new teachers to the students. All the main players then gave speeches. Topics were standard fare ("Study hard and do your best!", "Don't forget your manners!", "Don't forget to have fun!"). We sang the school song (I mostly just pretended as I have no idea what the words are), then the students were introduced to their teachers.

This was one point that was slightly different. From what I remember, my schools when I was a kid always posted lists of who was in what class with what teacher. In Japan, though, the class stays the same. Only the teacher changes and even then, sometimes the teacher stays the same across several years. And again, slightly different, the teacher assignments were announced at the Opening Ceremony rather than posted somewhere as a list to be read.

Of course, there was also copious bowing, all the students wore uniforms (which they always wear, not just during ceremonies) and everything was conducted in Japanese. In these ways, the Opening Ceremony here in Japan is different from what we might experience in Canada or the US. That is, for schools in Canada and the US that actually have assemblies at the opening of the school year (and I know some do).

When the ceremony finally finished, I slunk out of the gym and went to the teacher's room to write this post. And so here I am.

~Jeffles

Ze Future

Oh my god it's March!

Yeah, I don't really have anything to say. I think it's gonna be another short one... You see, one of my schools is basically out of session until sometime in April. That means that I get to sit around at my office desk for half the week. Soon, when my other schools get out of session, I'll be sitting around at my office desk for ALL the week!

It sounds like I'm complaining. The truth is that I have no desire to complain; I like having nothing to do. It's relaxing. I can concentrate on the other things I have a desire to do. And these days, I'm full of thoughts that need to be sorted out. Mostly about (DUN DUN DUNNNNNN) my future!

That's right, Jeffles is angsting out about his future. Sigh.

It seemed like I had it all figured out. Once JET ends, go to Thailand and volunteer in an orphanage for a month. Then, hop on over to Beijing and become a master of Mandarin in six months. Then, go back to the US and become a citizen. Get my driver's license, a cushy internship and a sweet new pad. Then ALL the moneys will be mine.

Except it isn't working out that way. Mostly because I realized that the Thailand and Beijing parts of that are logistical nightmares to figure out. I might be able to do it, but I'd be flat broke by the time I went home and probably wouldn't be able to maximize the experience because I'd be so cautious about my money. Moreover, I can't spend that much time outside of the US or else the authorities will take away my residency and that would put a serious damper on my become-a-citizen plans.

But even more importantly, I forgot a lesson I learned early on in university: I am not the kind of person that can simply do what is useful or convenient. There has to be more to it. I have to have some sort of personal investment in the activity. That means that, for me, studying Mandarin would probably be a bad idea.

Why? China's a big, powerful, rich country, after all. I would have my future SET if I could go there. Except that money has never really been a big motivator for me and, frankly, I just don't care that much about China. So why learn Mandarin? I firmly believe that a language cannot be learned "just because." You need a deeper motivation, a reason to care. I don't think I have that with China.

With Japan, I definitely had/have it. I lurve Japanese literature and dream of the day that I can read a Japanese novel in its original form. So I asked myself, what other language is like that for me? The answer seems to be French. There's a great deal of French literature that I have read (in translation) and loved. So maybe I should give that a try, eh?

Hopefully this gives you a bit of an insight into what goes on in a JET's mind as the second half of the contract year progresses. Everyone I know is going through a similar mental struggle at the moment.

"What do I doooooo!"

"I can't just go back to nothing, so what am I gonna go back to?"

"Japan's been awesome, how can I possibly do something as awesome when I go back?"

"I have no skills and I don't want to keep being a teacher. I'm screwed!"

That sort of thing. Even people who had a clear-cut plan before coming to Japan seem to second guess themselves a bit. A bit. It depends on the person.

I don't know if I could offer any advice to people about to enter JET. The only thing I could think of it "Keep your eyes open to any and all options." But honestly, that doesn't always work. I think you just have to be prepared to figure out what you want out of this point in your life and go for whatever that is.

Me? I'm gonna be polylingual.

~Jeff

In The Frozen Tundra

Hi there everyone. Sorry for the lack of new post last Thursday. I do have a good reason, but I'll try to do two posts this week to make up for it.

What's my reason? Well, as I'm sure several readers know, there was a midyear conference to improve our teaching skillz. Did it work? Who knows. But then, it's not even midyear yet, so obviously the name is already a misnomer. Which means, of course, that the premise of the conference is suspect. If so, it follows that whether or not my teaching skillz improved may actually not matter. Emphasis on the possibility aspect.

Yeah, I know. That's a load of bull. Anyway, because of this conference I didn't have access to my computer last Thursday. You see, the conference lasted for three days (Wednesday to Friday), every evening of which involved a night time drinking adventure for me, and the last two evenings of which I didn't even make it back to my town. Try saying that sentence five times fast. Then, on Saturday, there was an end-of-year party hosted by one of my schools that I had to attend.

This all added up to an exhausted Jeffles with a liver pleading for mercy. I'm pretty sure the last couple weeks have knocked an equal number of years off my life. So yesterday was, essentially, a write off. Thus today is the first day I can actually post something here.

I'm trying to decide what to talk about now. The cold and my lack of heating? A story from the last four days? A deep account of how I feel separated from the world here? I don't know. So I'm gonna eenie-meenie-miney-moe it.

Here we go...

...

...The cold and my lack of heating it is!

This is going to sound like bitching, moaning, and general complaining. That's because it is. As probably anyone who knows me is aware, I'm a summer guy. Winter and cold times really aren't my thing. It is, in fact, the entire reason why I never want to live in Canada again. Enough of this winter crap, I'm ready for a lifelong summer. Starting now.

Of course, that's not going to happen. So my method of fighting off the winter is to crank up the heat at home, take lots of hot showers, and do my best to wear clothing that cuts the wind when I go outside. That and get drunk. Even if it does actually make you colder, it also makes you too numb to notice the cold.

But as I said, too much drinking lately, so that last option is currently out. And, thanks to god knows what, I am also unable to crank up the heat or take a hot shower. I arrived home after my short trip to Okayama City only to find that I had no working heater and no hot water. I don't understand why. They were both working fine before I left. They both use gas to heat up, though, so maybe something happened to the pipe? Froze over or something? I don't know. I'm gonna ask one of the office people about it tomorrow.

So after spending one night freezing my ass off, I went out yesterday to equip myself with the items necessary to use my kotatsu. For those who don't know, a kotatsu is basically a table, a heater, and a blanket to keep the heat in a limited space. Think of it as like turning your table into a pillow fort and keeping it heated inside. (Yes, that's what I'm thinking every time I use it.)

While I was still in the kotatsu, it was very nice. Very nice indeed. But then, of course, I eventually had to go to bed. That was okay, because I was still feeling quite toasty. But waking up in the morning was TERRIBLE. There was no escape. I could see my breath inside my own damn house. Nothing quite like getting changed into cold clothes when you're already cold.

For a little while, I was wondering just how I would shave. As many of you probably are aware, I'm kind of a hairy guy. If I go to work without shaving, that don't look good. Hell, even in high school my teachers wouldn't let me get away with not shaving for a day. And believe me, I tried. So this morning I boiled some water, poured it in the sink, and used a hand towel dipped in the sink to soften my face. It also worked pretty well for the razor (shaving with a cold razor SUCKS). So this is a good thing to keep in mind for the future.

I'm really hoping that this lack of heating and lack of hot water doesn't last all winter. I'd really like to take a shower at some point. Deodorant can only work for so long...

There ends my complaint. Japan is cool, but they need to get their winter equipment sorted out. I fear things are only going to go further downhill from here. But that may just because I have to leave this warm room and go back to a cold home in a few short minutes.

Sigh.

~Jeffles

P.S. Gonna try to put up a new video tonight. I'll edit that link in later.

When One Week is Two and Typhoons Ruin ALL Your Fun, Blog About It!

I've been teaching now for about a week, but somehow, it already feels longer. I have to wonder why this is? Perhaps it's been so boring that I feel like I've been thrust into some sort of rut from which I can't get out? After all, they say that time flies when you're having fun, and obviously time is not flying.

I don't think that's it, though. After all, I'm not bored. Seriously, not even in the least. In fact, I feel almost as if I've been run off my feet. Every class I've been to is completely different from the others and requires a different approach. Add that on to the fact that I have eight different schools and hundreds of kids' faces and names to memorize. Whoever said that Japanese kids are all the same obviously had no idea what he or she was talking about. And then there's the travel time (by bike, of course) between schools and Judo classes on top of that. It's exhausting.

Furthermore, contrary to my earlier statement, time actually does fly. In class, I can't help but feel as if I don't have anywhere near enough time to present everything. As well, I constantly feel as if I need more time to prepare myself for class, both mentally and physically. And I'm always wondering if I'm going to actually make it to class in time. It's as if I actually don't have enough time in the day.

Yet, when I'm lying on the floor at home, I look back on everything that happened and I think to myself, "Wow, that was a long day." I think about how much I accomplished and wonder if it all really happened in only a few hours. I think it is this that my sense of an elongated work week is derived from. I am doing so many things that it seems as if each day was actually two days. Apply this to a week full of wide-eyed first-encounters and we end up with an exhausted Jeffles who feels as if two weeks have been packed into one. Frankly, I'm surprised I didn't see this coming.

In other news, a typhoon passed through the country over last weekend. As it's Thursday, this is old news. But it hasn't been mentioned on this blog, so it ain't old news here! Also, it was my first typhoon, so it deserves mention.

The storm landed on Friday morning. Friday was also my first day of school. Because of the typhoon, though, they crammed all my classes into the morning and told me to head on home after lunch. First day and things are already interesting! (I'm also fairly certain that I fended off two kancho attempts, speaking of interesting.)

The bike ride home, normally a 20 minute affair, took nearly twice as long due to the wind and rain. I had to stop two times, just to catch my breath, and am fairly certain that I would have actually made it home faster if I were walking. Thanks to that ride, I decided that there was no way I was leaving my home until the storm had passed. As it turns out, I had actually been biking home at what was essentially the worst time of day to be out.

I wasn't so lucky as to actually be able to stay inside all weekend, though. I couldn't even stay inside all day. That night was the welcome party for the new ALTs in my town (of which I am obviously one). So out I went again, though luckily the wind and rain had temporarily died down. Thinking luck was on my side, I decided to bike to the meeting spot. Bad decision.

The party itself was great. We each gave short speeches in broken Japanese to much applause, then proceeded to consume vast quantities of both food and booze. I personally spent much of the night attempting to communicate with my fellow Japanese workers to varying degrees of success. When the first party finished, we then moved on to the second location, a karaoke lounge that apparently the party had rented out. The fooding and boozing continued, of course, until I was well past tipsy.

This is when my bad decision became obvious. During the course of 5 or so hours, the typhoon's fury had returned. I had a choice to make; either bike back through the wind and rain and drunken haze, or leave my bike out in the elements and have to go pick it up the next day, when the typhoon was expected to be ever stronger and I would be in the full grip of a terrible hang over. It was a lose-lose situation.

"Let's get this over with," I thought, and proceeded to bike home. As I don't actually remember the bike ride home, I would like to believe that I made the right decision. After all, what you can't remember can't hurt you, right? Ahem...

Anyway, I stayed inside for the rest of the weekend. We ALTs had been planning to take part in a tea ceremony on Saturday, but seriously? Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

By Sunday morning, the typhoon had gone and taken all its bad juju with it. Since then, the skies have been clear and the winds have been delightfully light. The mornings and evenings are starting to get cool, though. It looks like Fall is on its way.

~Jeffles

Farewell, Dear August

I have been in Japan for a month. I know this because August has ended and when I arrived, August had only just begun. This also means that summer is over.

For the last week or so, I've had a regular companion on my way to work. I was half-way to work one morning when I realized that there, on my bike's front basket, sat a preying mantis. At first I thought it was just a withered, curled up leaf. In fact, that leaf was two preying mantises (mantisi?), gettin' it on in the summer heat. That's right, my bike was defiled with insectoid love juices.

The next time I saw the "withered, curled up leaf," it was without its special friend. I've heard that a preying mantis will eat its lover after sex. So when I saw my lonely companion, I was a little concerned. What happened to the other one? I never found out.

The remaining preying mantis joined me on my morning bike rides to work a total of six times. By the sixth time, it was almost a friendly sight. Twice it had climbed up towards the handlebars, as if seeking comfort in my proximity. Now, I wouldn't call myself particularly squeamish, but I'm also not that fond of bugs. So even though I felt I was getting on somewhat friendly terms with this preying mantis, I was also well aware of its warrior reputation. Sadly, I must report that I rebuffed both of its advances and did not allow it to climb upon my hand.

This morning I noticed a brown, curled up leaf lying at the bottom of the staircase, twiggy legs sticking up into the air, motionless.

I have read that a preying mantis only lives for 8 or 9 months, so I won't mourn the little fella's passing. It was probably his/her time. It did, however, make me feel even stronger that something was coming to an end. I usually get this feeling at the end of the summer, but this time it seems a little bit different. This time it seems as if I'll never have a real summer again. My guess: that's because I won't.

Today I am the only person in the office. The other ALTs in my town have all started teaching at their schools, but I start tomorrow. As we have spent the last month, all of us, sitting here in this office, our sudden separation is undoubtedly fueling my sense of the "end times."

On the positive side, I expect that tomorrow I will have a renewed sense of adventure. Tomorrow I begin to teach. It will be a new experience for me and I fully expect to be both freaked out and completely immersed in my surroundings.

But for now, things are ending and that's a little sad.

~Jeffles

The Land of Sunshine

I've been in Japan for three weeks now and every single day has had the following routine: wake up, look outside, see the sun, feel the heat, drown in the humidity, turn on the AC. Of course, since I actually can't get enough of the heat and humidity, I should probably be using verbs that indicate the pleasure I have been lucky enough to experience over the last three weeks. In my ideal world, I would be living in a tropical paradise for thirteen months out of the year. Yes, you read that right. Thirteen months out of the year.

Speaking of tropical paradise, you may recall me mentioning Shiraishi island. There's also a little bit about Shiraishi on my youtube channel. Please excuse the shameless self-promotion. Anyway, when I was on Shiraishi with the Okayama Orientation group, I made plans with another JET (whom I shall call Snowman) to go back to the island. We were only there for a few hours, you see, and because we were technically still on the clock, we weren't allowed to drink alcohol. So it made sense to return at a later date.

The date we picked was the weekend of the 20th and 21st of August. It was the first free weekend we had, fell right after payday, and was still summertime. It was, we agreed, ideal. So a few days later, I sent off an email and made reservations with a minshoku hotel near the beach (and the bar).

And then, about four days ago, I checked the weather forecast. Would you guess it? It was forecasted to be raining all weekend long. Of course, it would start Saturday morning and finish Sunday evening. Three weeks of no rain and suddenly, right when I want to actually use the sunshine, this happens.

As it so happens, the weatherman was right on. It came down on us like a game of whack-a-mole. And then, half an hour after arriving back in the apartment that I call home, the rain stopped. Sigh.

Snowman did not particularly enjoy the rain. In fact, I would say that it put something of a damper on his entire weekend. I didn't particularly enjoy the rain either, but I wouldn't say that it completely ruined the weekend. Sure, I didn't get to sit in the sun, go kayaking, or play frisbee in the water. But I did get to sit at the bar and crack jokes with fellow foreigners until the sun went down. I did get to see the islands of the Seto Inland Sea wreathed in a fog. And I did get to watch fireflies glow like tiny, blue LEDs as the nighttime waves rolled in.

I noticed, too, that the locals seemed not to care much that the world had suddenly turned grey. Snowman and I went to a place for lunch that served cheese curry. By the way, cheese curry is delicious. Especially for all you Poutine lovers out there, I highly recommend it. At any rate, the place is run by a family that goes to Shiraishi for the summer, but lives in Tokyo during the rest of the year.

The family had a cat and their cat was hilarious. Not that it actually did anything to warrant that descriptor; I'm calling it hilarious because of its face. It was completely flat and disproportionately tiny, especially in comparison to its eyes. After seeing those eyes, I understand anime so much better. Even more hilariously, though, it had what looked like a bushy white mustache. Most of its fur was grey and shaggy, except for its muzzle, which was bright white. The whole package reminded me of a perennially startled, disheveled professor. Probably a professor of Confucian philosophy, but don't quote me on that.

Discounting the cat, which surely belongs to a group of its own, the family consisted of a mother, a daughter, and a son (though the son may have been a boyfriend, I'm not too sure). Not one of them showed a single sign of displeasure at the weather. In fact, I can't think of a moment when there wasn't at least one person smiling at something. Most of the time, they chatted jovially, smoked on their porch, and played with the cat. Even Snowman and I were drawn in as we consumed their cheesy curry-goodness. For the time we were in that ramshackle little building, negativity had no place.

If there's one thing I can take from my weekend, it's this: don't waste time being negative. If something unexpected happens, oh well. There's fun things to be found, too. Look to those things and enjoy them. I haven't been in Japan very long, so I can't say for certain, but that attitude seems very prevalent and I'd like to imagine I can attain it too.

Thus: the rain was unexpected, yes, but I did enjoy my time on Shiraishi. In fact, the owners of the Moo Bar mentioned an end-of-the-season party in which attendees would have the task of drinking the bar dry. It's supposed to take place on the last weekend of September. So I expect I'll be back again, rain or shine... though a little bit of shine would nice.

~Jeffles

A Glimpse Into the Future?

Konnichiwa! Hisashiburi da ne?

(Google it if you don't understand.)

I would apologize for not having been around, but I have been around. Just, I've been on youtube. That's right, I have two new videos up! Watch 'em, love 'em, spread 'em around like hot butter on a slab of toast.

You can find them here and here respectively. The intro is new. Is it too long? Not enough sparkly transitions? Need more nearly-naked cat-girls? Let me know what you think.

So, I've covered a lot in the videos, but there's just no way to cover it all. That's what this here blog is for.

As I mentioned in the previous blog post, my days have been so completely filled up that I honestly have no free time. That hasn't changed much. I think it will start to calm down a bit starting tomorrow, but only be for a short while. Once school starts up in September, I'm going to be crazy busy. I have eight different schools to go to, the majority of which require at least a half-hour bike ride...

Anyway, last weekend was yet another festival. It was really quite cool. I did take video of it and will be uploading another youtube jvlog soon, but there are some things that weren't captured on camera.

One of the previous ALTs, a successor of ours, came back to town for the evening. You see, he still had some things left here and needed to pick them up. He also was going to go to the Milky Way festival with us. So as a result, we all got to meet him.

I mention this because it is interesting to me. The majority of foreigners that I have met here in Japan have been people who are themselves new to Japan. We commiserate over our lack of Japanese language ability. We try to muddle through designing our first lesson. We come face-to-face, time and time again, with strange and weird Japanese customs. I won't even go into trying to navigate the train system. Then here comes this guy.

It's hard to explain what it was like to meet him for the first time. His hair, the color of granite, had been buzzed close to his head. Half his fingers were adorned with huge, intricate rings. Each one was different from the next, yet all were the size of small boulders. Around his neck hung a steampunk stopwatch that he said he picked up in Tokyo (or was it Osaka?) for about ￥2500. That it didn't work hardly seemed to matter.

Yet that doesn't really describe him either. He was a bundle of energy, but carried himself as if consciously subduing an inner beast that really, at the end of the day, just wanted to play. The first time I heard him speak, there were three young kids literally hanging off him to try and get the basketball in his hands. Without skipping a beat, he introduced himself to us, dislodged the children, and swished the ball.

As night fell and a dinner of somen noodles and incredible local fruit ended, we arrived at the festival. It was a bit of a drive as it was taking place up in the hills and we all lived in the town, but none of us really minded. It was something different, after all. Who doesn't like a little change of pace?

The minute we stepped onto the festival grounds, the scene transformed from one where we were simply strangers to one where gaggles of school children were swarming on our ring-clad sempai. What did he do? He reveled. Group after group after group came clambering over to him. He, cool as a a breeze on a hot summer day, dealt with them one by one, the smile never leaving his face. He took their energy and threw it right back at them. He challenged them to speak to us and they accepted the challenge, because it was he that posed it to them. They asked for pictures. They talked about their summers. They couldn't get enough.

And then he stepped away and left us. There were photos to take and he had to take them. Alone, we explored the festival grounds.

No one approached us. No one ran at us, shouting our names with glee. I bought some fried pork on a stick and chewed it thoughtfully, getting little more than a curious glance as the seller realized I was a gaijin. This man, our sempai, had only been here a year and had already garnered such a following. I supposed it was only natural. Kids are kids and they love strange things. He certainly was strange. And now he had moved on to bigger and better things. There was some sort of quasi-Christian, Buddhist sect in Kyoto that he said he was staying with. Soon they'd be sending him to Korea to further their mission of world peace. It sounded almost fictional.

Fireworks and a bonfire of paper lanterns plus tree brought the festival to an end. We returned to town. Our sempai took two of us out for drinks where, in spite of running on three hours of sleep, he displayed yet more of his genki self. At one point, he was so caught up in the story he was telling that he found it necessary to stand on his chair while he waved his hands and filled the one-room bar with his voice. No doubt drawn in by his energy, some guys at the bar top treated us to okonomiyaki and some dried squid thing (it was actually quite delicious). Finally, fatigue overtook us and we went our separate ways. He displayed one last act of generosity and paid for the entire night.

As I biked home down my narrow little street, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of man I would become in a year.

~Jeffles

Jeffles In Inaka

It's been a while. Honestly, I've been too busy to post much. Besides that, I don't actually have internet at home yet and there's no place with public internet access nearby. I have work, but well, it's work. Anyway, I figure it's okay for now. I get internet at home tomorrow apparently, so it's not like I'll be making a habit of this.

Right, I should explain. I'm living in Japan now. My blog title is finally accurate!

My town is a tiny place on the western border of Okayama prefecture. Well, I say tiny, but there are definitely smaller places. Out of all the inaka (middle-of-nowhere/rural places), we're probably one of the largest locations. Even so, it's pretty rural. I live in town, but the majority of the region is little more than hills upon rice fields upon yet more hills. It is absolutely gorgeous. I've already said that a thousand times to nearly everyone, but it bears repeating.

The street I live on is very much in the old Japanese style. It is a single lane (though traffic goes both ways, of course) that winds in something that may have been trying to approximate a straight line. The buildings on either side are largely wooden buildings with sliding door entrances. Nothing is larger than two stories and hidden alleyways lurk everywhere. Biking down the street is... well, feels a bit dangerous, but I haven't been hit yet. This is promising. I just have to ignore all the times I've almost been hit. :D

Next door to my apartment building is a Buddhist temple. If you're on my facebook, there's a picture of it there in my mobile uploads. I'm not sure what sect of Buddhism it is, though... to be honest, I'm a little intimidated by the place. I have yet to actually see anyone on the temple grounds. I could just pull out the gaijin card and wander in, but I'm trying to be a good neighbor!

Directly behind my apartment is what I've been told is a bar. I have to say that it looks pretty cool. It's kind of like a shed, the sort of thing that boys build in their backyard and claim as their fort. There are a couple shrines that surround it, too, and a small but well-tended yard in front. Some of the other ALTs and I have made plans to invade it at some later point... hopefully soon. It's another place I feel intimidated by...

I'm using a lot of ellipses today... I should cut down on that. Anyway, I hope that gives you a decent picture of where I'm living. My apartment itself is actually quite spacious. There's the genkan (entrance-way where you take off your shoes), a short hallway (about 15 feet long) with bathroom, washroom, and toilet room off to the side (each a separate room). Then there's a fairly large kitchen, a living room of equal size, and a Japanese-style tatami room of equal size. In Japanese measurements, it's a 6-mat room. For Americans/Canadians, I think that's about 9' x 9' for each room. It is, as I said, quite spacious.

As of tomorrow, I'll have been here for one week. It feels like twice as long, though, as every day has just been so full. Literally, every single day I've been busy. The first day we arrived, we had only enough time to get into our apartments and check out our bikes before we had to find our way to a nearby izakaya for our welcome party. Then the next day we had to set up our bank stuff and our phones (which took two days) and had another dinner out. The next day we went on a shopping trip for house items, finished getting our phones, and were granted an office-time trip to the art museum next door. That night was our first free night. I just went to sleep.

After that was the weekend and the summer festival (natsu matsuri). We had the days off to explore the town, but night time was reserved for the festival itself. The first night was the odori, or festival dance. As employees of city hall, we were expected to participate. That meant dancing in the streets for two or more hours. I lost track of time after a while. Because the dancers can't explore the festival stalls, though, we were all given booze and food for an hour before the dance began. The idea was: get drunk and dance. And yes, many people took full advantage. My alcohol tolerance didn't allow me to get super drunk, but I definitely appreciated the gesture. By the time the odori finished, I was completely exhausted. I checked out the remaining stalls and bought some yakiniku on a stick (which was so stringy - but delicious - that I nearly choked on it), hopped on my bike, and went home to sleep.

The next day was the hanabi (fireworks). It was also our sempai ALT's birthday (the ALT remaining from last year). So the town's local, unofficial, representative took us all out for some korean BBQ, which apparently is called yakiniku here (which confuses me immensely). Yakiniku means fried meat, which I thought was reserved entirely for fried beef, but I guess also refers to Korean BBQ. Anyway, that was super delicious and we headed out for the fireworks after. The fireworks were pretty spectacular themselves and I tried to take some video of it. Most of it turned out pretty blurry, but I think some of it might be usable. Apparently my camera is terrible at night-stuff. Sadness.

That marked the end of the natsu matsuri and the weekend. Yesterday I thought we would get some time just sitting around the office, but it turned out that we were off on a trip to the mountainous part of the area. One of us new ALTs has a house up there and will be teaching at schools in that area, so the bossman took us on a field trip. The mountainous area is, as is to be expected, even more rural and more beautiful. We drove around for a few hours and then got some ice cream, which was amazing. The day ended, I returned home, and I went to sleep again. Somehow, even that relatively easy day wore me out.

That was yesterday. Today has been much quieter. Our sempai ALT has gone back to the US for a few weeks. Apparently it's a big time for marriages. Go figure. I discovered that my washing machine doesn't work, so I got some help from one of the people around the office here and we went to my place to fix my washing machine. Hooray! Now I can have clean clothes! Super exciting, da ne? It was pretty funny watching him work. My Japanese isn't very good, so it ended up with him basically mumbling to himself and fiddling with things for an hour while I stood around like a scratching post. In the end everything worked out, though, and I am now eternally grateful. I was not looking forward to wearing curry-stained shirts to work.

That should more or less bring the internet world up to date. I could expand on any of the above points and illustrate the entire story, but this blog post is already long enough and there is just too much to cover!

Tomorrow the Okayama prefectural orientation begins. From what I've heard, it is not entirely useful, but I don't mind. I want to see Okayama City. And the final day we're going to Shiraishi, which is an island that has been described to me on several occasions as "a tropical paradise." I am quite looking forward to that. And it'll be cool to see how the other new JETs are doing. As I said, it's only been a week, but it feels like I've already been here for much longer.

~Jeffles

Exploratory missions

I have a correction to make; Tokyo is not small.

Really, I should have known that I was just missing something. Near the hotel is a small warren of criss-crossing streets. It is an area filled with small outlet stores, restaurants, and bars. Emphasis lies on “small.”

It was there that I explored in my first night. If you're in that area, it seems as if there is no other place to shop because everything else around the area is a hotel, an office building, or a train station. It took someone with a better idea of the area than I to explore beyond these boundaries.

Last night a group of JETs who are going to Okayama (including myself) got together after the reception ended at 8 PM. We had decided earlier in the day that we would try to see Tokyo. Unfortunately, we were exhausted, so we decided on just doing a walk-about. First we ended up in that same small area that I had been in the night before. We spent perhaps an hour in a bar drinking a beer whose name I have utterly forgotten. I'm not quite convinced I ever actually knew it.

After we had each downed our share of that glorious golden liquid, it became the common consensus that we were too tired to proceed with our exploratory mission. So we left the bar. Not three steps had been taken, though, before an English lad in our group rallied our spirits. We would explore just a little bit. Not too far, of course. We were tired, after all. Still, that was too much for two of our number who caved in and went back to the hotel and bed.

The six of us that remained set off for a fabled nearby park. If we just walked around the train station (largest in Tokyo), it would be right there. It wasn't. But if we kept going, it would be just around the corner, we were certain. It wasn't there either. There was a cool ramen stop with wooden beams and old-style signs, though. We decided it would be better to just wander.

Our wandering shortly took us to a place called Kabuki-cho. This is essentially the red-light district. It is tucked off the side of a very busy part of Shinjuku that reminds me intensely of Times Square in New York City. Lights everywhere, massive buildings covered in advertisements, vast streets and vaster crowds. Kabuki-cho, on the other hand, is more warren-like. In structure, it is quite similar to the warrens near our hotel. The content, of course, is a bit different.

Initially it seemed to just be another shopping and eating district. Then someone pointed out a massage parlor. And then we found the main thoroughfare came to an end and all that was left to explore were the side streets. A man approached us asking if we were looking for a bar and we shooed him away like a pesky little flea. Didn't he know we were only there to gawk? We settled on a side street and proceeded.

It was immediately apparent that we had made the right choice. A large selection of brothels lined each side of our little alleyway. While I couldn't actually read the characters, the little pink hearts and photos of topless women and discretely placed shades gave it away. And as if that wasn't clear enough, a squirrely Japanese man approached us with a clear proposition: “Sex? Sex? Sex? Sex?”

While sex is indeed desirable thing, we decided that tonight we were not in the market. Our side street came to an end and our sleepiness decided that was an appropriate time to make its triumphant return. On our way back to the hotel we discovered more karaoke bars, massage parlors, and a neko-cafe. The British lad asked about the tale of Momotaro and I told it for him. By 10:30 I was in my room and in bed. I think I lasted about a minute before I was asleep.

This morning I woke up again at 6. Breakfast was a bit better than the previous day; there were no french fries this time. Actually, I cannot complain. There was bacon and sausage, eggs and quiche. And best of all, there was fruit. Bowls and bowls of fruit. If you know anything about Japan, you may be aware of the horrifically inflated price of fruit, especially of melon. It literally costs, at minimum, about $150 for a melon. So naturally, I filled my plate with the stuff. Who knows when I'll see it again?

Today is another grey day filled with conference room presentations. I wish I had a day to explore the city a bit, but I know that's not the purpose for which I came here. That's okay, I'll almost certainly come back another time. And perhaps tonight I'll explore even further.

Mata ne.

~Jeffles

Ohayo Tokyo!

It's morning in Shinjuku and I've been awake for an hour. This sounds like jet lag, but it's not. I just woke up really early.

From my hotel window it's a bit difficult to actually see anything. I'm on the eleventh floor, so most building here tower above me. I can see the sky between two skyscrapers, though, and it looks grey. The pavement below is still wet from the night before. I'm guessing it rained.

Despite this I'm actually quite excited to be here. Not in Tokyo, per se, but in Japan. Tokyo is, at the end of the day, just another city to me. I've been in many cities before and after a while they tend to blend together a bit. Some people talk about cities as having vast, diverse personalities, but I've never thought so myself. I tend to see cities as urban sprawl with a little bit of character in a few select spots.

Case in point: what is Shinjuku known for? A subway station so busy that station attendants have to actually shove passengers into the subway by hand. Otherwise, the passengers would never get in. What is the rest of the area, though? Largely, it appears to be a collection of hotels and office buildings. There is a small network of streets near my hotel that light up at night, but it seems that there is not much else.

Last night we went into that network to wander in the Tokyo night. It was quite interesting to watch the Japanese walk about in what I always thought of as a stereotypical manner. There were even guys with arashi-style facemasks. And in the izakaya that we went to for dinner, there was an after-work enkai underway. To see all these things right before me... it felt almost like I was watching TV. Talk about strange.

At any rate, it's time for breakfast now. I wonder what will be there?

~Jeffles

Beware the Wash

Oh man, have I ever had an interesting last couple of days. If you're on my facebook, you'll know more or less what instigated the primary worry of this time. In short: my passport went through the washing machine.

In long:

I live in Boston. Over the summer, I had a job in Boston. I applied to JET, however, through Toronto. This is because I am Canadian and was going to school at the University of Toronto - any application to participate in JET must be made in the country of your citizenship. When accepted into JET, you must depart for Japan from the city that you applied through. So for me, that means I must go to Japan from Toronto. So far so good? This is where it gets complicated.

You cannot, obviously, work in a country without permission from the government. So to work on the JET program, I need a work visa for Japan. In order to get the work visa, you need to submit your passport to the Japanese embassy or consulate-general. JET, however, has a policy that ordinarily you are supposed to give your passport to the JET coordinator from the city that you applied through. This is supposed to happen something like a month and a half before we leave for Japan. For me, because I applied through Toronto, that means that I should have given my passport to the JET coordinator from Toronto sometime back in June. She then would have taken care of the work visa. Everyone gets their passport back at the same time, the day before we leave for Japan.

That's the ordinary procedure. But I'm not normal. Oh no, I'm not. See, I live in Boston. I have a US Permanent Resident Card. I have to be there. Not to mention that, since we don't get paid in Japan until the end of the month, I need to make enough money to pay for my first month in Japan. Maybe you don't see the problem. Let me highlight it: the border crossing. If I'm going to give my passport to the JET coordinator in Toronto and not get it back until the day before I leave to Japan from Toronto, how am I going to get into Toronto from Boston? I need my passport to cross the border.

So after a great deal of discussion, the JET coordinator and I decided that I would come up to Toronto one week before the departure date and hand my passport in then. There would be, I was assured, enough time. And there should have been, if my passport didn't go through the washing machine the day before I was supposed to go to Toronto.

Naturally, my first reaction was "OH CRAP." I thought I had essentially lost the use of my passport altogether. So I called the Consulate-General of Canada, but got no response. I waited half an hour for a call back, then rushed down (it still took an hour in the 96 degree heat) to see them in person. They told me it would take 3-5 business days to get a new passport and that there's no way I could use my old one in the shape it was in. My first reaction recurred. I asked to see an immigration officer. They said she was out to lunch so I'd have to wait another hour, blah blah. I waited the hour and spoke with the officer, which is when things started to finally turn around.

The immigration officer told me that, if I could get on the plane to Toronto, then I could get a new passport in 24 hours. The key would be to get into Toronto. Otherwise it would take 1-3 business days, which was too long. So I took the forms she said I would need and rushed over to my mum's office (another hour trek in the 96 degree heat) to find the phone number for Air Canada and call them. I was lucky. You see, my passport was still readable and the pages weren't falling out. That meant that, even though it was beaten to hell and back, I could still probably board the airplane. If all else failed, I could back it up with my US Permanent Resident Card. Yay Air Canada!

Night fell and a flurry of packing began. I finally finished at nearly 3:30 AM and promptly went to sleep, only to wake up a hearty four hours later to board my plane. Boarding went smoothly (minus a few chuckles at the state of my passport). I arrived in Toronto at 12:30 and took a taxi directly to Passport Canada. All would go smoothly. I threw 80+ pounds of luggage on my back and went upstairs... only to find that I needed to find a notary to sign my documents and get my photos retaken. Apparently Walgreens, in its infinite wisdom, forgot to date the back of my photos.

Running out of time (and breath), because I needed the passport by Monday if I was to get my work visa, I luckily found a notary only three blocks away. They signed their lives away and directed me to a photo place a block away, to which I promptly rushed. Took the photo, and I ran (sort of... it's hard to run with 80 lbs of luggage all about your person) back to Passport Canada. I made it with a pleasant hour to spare. They gave me a number, I sat down, and in half an hour everything was sorted.

That night I went to sleep, a happy, exhausted man, at a much more reasonable 8:30 PM. I don't think the Sun had even set yet.

I considered not posting this blog until tomorrow, as I haven't actually received my passport back yet. But I cannot possibly foresee any further problems. I've already used up my quota of bad luck for the week. *Knocks on wood*

Yeah, it's been a fun few days.

~Jeffles