Blog Moved!

Hi there everyone.

Sorry to have left you all stranded in the cold, erm, 5 months ago. If you want a reason, I'm sorry, but I can only offer a sad excuse.

You see, I was approximately two months away from leaving Japan for good and I just couldn't find it in my heart to continue writing about Japan. It felt wrong. Especially when the majority of things I wanted to write about were things that had nothing to do with Japan. And clearly, this was not the place to do that.

At any rate, I have finally begun a new blog. If you like, you can consider it the chronicles of a post-JET. That is, after all, essentially what it is. I have been back state-side for two months, after all.

Oh right, I live in Boston now. Hey, that's cool, eh?

Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know that, if you should so desire, the journey continues on... here.

That's all, folks.

~Jeffles

On the Shimanami Kaido

Hello again, sorry for the absence last Thursday. I wish I had an explanation, but I can't actually think of why I didn't post anything. Probably just got too caught up in life.

At any rate, I have an adventure to relate to you. That shall the meat of today.

But first, a little geography lesson. If you look at a map of Japan, you will notice that Japan is, in fact, not a single island. It is four islands. From north to south, they are Hokkaido (北海道), Honshu (本州), Shikoku (四国), and Kyushu (九州).

Japan.

You may also notice that there are four large bodies of water surrounding Japan. The Sea of Japan, the Pacific Ocean, the Philippine Sea, and the East China Sea. However, there is one sea which has not been mentioned or marked on the map: the Seto Inland Sea (瀬戸内海 Seto Naikai). The Seto Inland Sea, as you can observe on the wikipedia page I linked, is the body of water which lies between the large island of Honshu and the smaller island of Shikoku.

Last weekend, I attempted to bike across this sea.

No, I am not Jesus. There happens to be a route called the Shimanami Kaido that hops from island to island, taking you from Onomichi City (in Hiroshima prefecture on Honshu) to Imabari City (in Ehime prefecture on Shikoku). In between the two cities are six bridges, six islands, and approximately 80 kilometers. As the page I linked to you shows, you can also go from Shikoku to Honshu; it's a two way route. As my home prefecture happens to be on Honshu, we decided to start on Honshu and work our way south.

In my examination of the route in the days leading up to the adventure, I was put under the impression that the route was an easy and fast one. I also discovered that the average biker travels at a speed of 18 to 24 km/h. That means, assuming I travel on the low end I should have been able to complete the 80 km route in just over four hours. And indeed, I had read that people traveling at a leisurely pace had completed it in 8 hours. Definitely something that could be done in a day.

Or so I thought.

Turns out it was a much tougher bike ride than I'd been expecting. Part of the problem was, I think, that I was unfamiliar with the kind of bike I was riding. It was too small for me (a common problem here in Japan) and had these things called "gears" that I couldn't figure out. Add to that several long slopes, a very hot sun, and killer pollen... the bike ride took longer than I thought it would.

More or less exactly how I felt.

We met at the train station in Onomichi at about 10:30 in the morning, grabbed a couple of sandwiches, and set off for the bike rental shop. (We did not bring our bikes with us on the train. And I wouldn't want to anyway, because my personal bike for getting around town is frankly a piece of crap.)

The shop itself was very conveniently located. It was, in fact, pretty much right next to the dock. (You have to take a ferry to get from Onomichi to the first island. The only available bridge is for cars only.) To get there from the train station, you first take a right on exiting the station. Then follow the road on your left hand side (there will be buses galore) until you can't walk any further without crossing a road. Cross the road and turn right. Keep walking until you see a parking lot on your left-hand side. In the parking lot, at the opposite end, is the bike rental shop. For a ￥500 (~$6) fee plus a ￥1000 (~$12) deposit, you can rent any bike you like for a day.

But be warned, the bikes are a little bit on the small side. If I placed my foot on the pedal such that the middle of my foot was on the pedal, then turning the front wheel would actually jam the wheel onto my foot. As a result, I ended up biking with the balls of my feet for pretty much the whole way. Sigh.

Other than that, though, I was quite happy with the bikes. Mine had 8 gears and a solid feel. The seat was a bit narrow for my comfort, but it was no big deal, and if I'd been paying attention, I certainly could have chosen a bike with a wider seat.

So, by the time we bought our sandwiches, rented our bikes, got on the ferry, arrived at the first island, and got off the ferry, we had killed a full forty-five minutes. It was now about 11:15 and we were just getting started. This may have been the real reason we didn't make it as far as we'd hoped.

Nonetheless, convinced of our own prowess, we hopped on our bikes and went. The first thing that struck us was how incredibly gorgeous the island was. Especially once we got out of the center of the island and to the shore. The sea opened up before our eyes and before I knew it, I had my video camera in hand and the record button pressed beneath my thumb. Hopefully, I can find the time to put together a video, because that place was... stunning.

Biking on the shimanami kaido.

After the first bridge, which took us to Innoshima, we stopped near a giant dinosaur statue and had our lunch on the beach. No, I'm not joking. When you get off the bridge and go down the hill to your right, you'll soon see a large, white brontosaurus rising off in the distance. It stares at the sea, seemingly dreaming of a day when it will lift its plaster feet and walk among the waves. In the meantime, however, it contents itself with letting children climb all over it.

Having scarfed down our food and had a giggle at the Japanese people diving into the water in their underwear, we decided it was time to get back on the road. Well, mostly I decided. My eyes had turned into tiny balls of pure itchiness and my nose wouldn't stop sneezing. For whatever reason, though, my hayfever seems to disappear once I get moving. So back to the bike it was. By this time, it was about 1 PM.

We continued biking for another two hours, crossing the kuchi bridge and finding ourselves craving ice cream on ikuchujima. Thankfully, my ever trusty travel companion Clara happens to possess something akin to a radar for ice cream. When its presence is near, a blip goes off in her head and her eyes take on the glow of far-off starlight. She guided us to our ice cream and, again with much sneezing, my hunger was sated.

By this point, it was about 3:00 PM. We continued along the island road and found ourselves at a museum called the Ikuo Hirayama Museum of Art. This is a museum dedicated entirely to the work of a single artist: Ikuo Hirayama. It was a pretty nice museum, but nothing too spectacular in my opinion. I was far more captivated by the Kosanji Temple and Hill of Hope.

The temple.

I have seen nothing like this in Japan. The temple is clearly Japanese, yet there are so many Chinese influences at the same time. It's full of incredible colors and exquisite detail. Every part of every structure is adorned with decoration and everywhere you look, there is vibrancy.

Then, at the top of the complex, is this extraordinarily peculiar environment. The hilltop is covered in carved marble blocks. The whiteness of it is so bright I actually had to wear my sunglasses just to watch where I was walking.

The Hill of Hope.

I feel like my words don't do the place justice. Well, perhaps there are no words that can do the place justice. It is simply that astonishing.

After wandering around the complex for about 45 minutes, we decided that the best thing we could do at this point was catch a ferry home. It was only 4 PM, but with the ferry ride and the train ride, the return trip home would easily add several hours to that. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but it was a Sunday and I had to go to work the next day. In fact, I didn't end up getting home until after 9 PM. Oh, the joys of living in the inaka.

So I didn't quite make it across the Seto Inland Sea. But I made it about half way and, all considered, I'm pretty happy with that. I got a nice (farmer's) tan out of the adventure, too.

If I have the chance, I would like to try and do it again. Maybe spend the night on one of the islands and then finish the trip the next day. And if you get the chance, I would highly recommend you give it a go. For the scenery, if nothing else, give it a go.

That's it for this week. See you later.

~Jeffles

Zombies, run!

Hello. I don't have any particularly interesting stories for you today.

(Okay, strictly speaking that isn't true. I just am trying to preserve the dignity of everyone involved in all the stories that I COULD tell.)

Instead I will link you this:

ZOMBIES, RUN!

~Jeffles

Golden Week: Part 2

Hello and welcome back. Part 2 begins... now!

I've been thinking about what sort of post I wanted to write for part 2 of Golden Week. I considered doing a post in the same style as the last one but, to be honest, I think the last post was a bit long. There was just too much there.

This time, I'm going to relate a single encounter to you. It is, in my opinion, the most noteworthy encounter of the trip. But it also highlights the strange things that kept on happening to us. Just imagine that nights like this one happened every night and you won't be too far off.

Part 2 began when I caught the 6:20 train from my town on Wednesday evening. About three hours, two transfers and a bullet train ride later, my friend and I arrived in Fukuoka. Unfortunately, we arrived just after the reception desk at our hostel closed. Fortunately, we had anticipated this and the kind hostel people gave us the code for the front door to let ourselves in.

We settled into our room and, much to our pleasure, discovered that the hostel had left us a map filled with recommendations. There was one particular spot, marked as both a bar and a three-star recommendation, that we decided was our best bet for a good night. So off we went to the common room to round up our fellow hostelers.

Sad to say, but we only managed to get one companion. All the other people were stinky no-good losers and they all had extra long nose hairs, too.

I kid, I kid. Their nose hairs were perfectly normal.

So off we set with our single (awesome) companion. Along the way was much talk and merry-making. Stories were told, impressions were made. In the end, we decided that we were all super cool and were obviously destined to hang out together and become super friends.

We arrived at the bar and were told, first thing, by a balding man in his fifties who was obviously rather drunk, that the kitchen was closed. This, however, was quickly followed by the addition that drinking was perfectly okay. As we ourselves were perfectly okay with just drinking, we happily sauntered over to a corner table and ordered three beers.

This is when things began to get interesting. You see, we didn't simply receive three beers. We received two normal sized beers and a third beer which was the size of the other two beers combined. They came with an instruction from the balding man, too. To decide who was to drink the Great Beer, we were to janken. The winner would be crowned winner, champion, olympian god, and owner of the Great Beer.

Naturally, I won.

But it didn't end there. Barely halfway through our beers (or a quarter of the way through for me and my extra large beer), the balding man appeared again. This time, he had two women with him. One was about the same age as him, the other was maybe ten years younger. At this point it became quite clear that the balding man was, in fact, the owner of this fine establishment.

The conversation went something like this:

Balding Man: "Hello! This is my girlfriend!"

Woman #1: "Nice to meet you."

Balding Man: "This other woman is much better looking though, don't you think?"

Woman #1: "You asshole."

Woman #2 chuckles.

Balding Man: "You know, the dontaku matsuri is tomorrow, right?"

We acknowledge the existence of said matsuri and establish that, in fact, we have come from Okayama to see it.

Balding Man: "Okayama! We love Okayama! A transexual friend of ours dresses up every day like Momotaro, but as a woman, and performs on the street! You should see that!" (Note that Momotaro is the symbol of Okayama)

Woman #2: *ignoring the obvious surprise on our face* "Can we join you at your table?"

Sure, we say. The balding man disappears and the two women explain that he is going to bring us something to eat. They then ask if we want anything in particular to eat. We are confused, as the kitchen was closed, we'd thought.

Woman #2: "Psh. They'll make something if we ask."

Woman #1 agrees.

We express the fact that we are not particularly hungry and actually came here just to drink. Neither woman seems to hear us.

Woman #2: "I know what you should get! Shrimp! It's totally my favorite dish of all time ever."

Woman #1: "Yeah! Let me go ask them to make it."

She then ran off, somewhere beyond sight, to make her queries. We talk with Woman #2 for a little while. Not much important was said, but it was conversation and conversations are always fun. In the meantime, we finish our drinks and order another round.

Soon, Woman #1 returns. She is holding a bowl and in the bowl are three shrimp. But these are not normal shrimp. These are large, grey prawns, and they are alive.

Well damn. We all take a mental step back. I remember my brother talking about the drunken shrimp he had eaten during his time in China. Apparently the shrimp would be paralyzed by the liquor and be mostly unable to move.

Well, I think, maybe I could handle that. And maybe I could have, if we were eating drunken shrimp.

These were different. How do I know they were different? Mostly because they were moving. A lot.

After much freaking out on the part of myself and my fellow foreign friends, Woman #2 picks up the shrimp and starts ripping the shell, legs and tail off. As she does so, I can see it flexing and squirming. Each tug makes it quiver and I'm crawling backwards into my seat just thinking about the pain it's in.

Woman #2, of course, can't understand what we find so disturbing about the thing and just keeps going. Finally she finishes her gruesome task and offers the still twitching and very much alive shrimp to us. My friend takes it. As he dips it in the wasabi, though, it twitches and he drops it on the table.

"I can't do it, man. I can't." he opines, quite understandably.

In the back of my mind, however, is the drunken shrimp that my brother ate. If he could do it, so could I, I reasoned. So I steeled my nerves and picked the creature up. With its head between my index finger and thumb, I dipped it in the soy sauce, as directed by Woman #2. And then, I put it in my mouth.

I describe it this way, because in my mind I had in fact divorced myself from the idea that it was a live creature. It was simply that there was a series of steps to take and, if I followed them, then I would successfully affirm my masculinity and all the world would praise my awesomeness. Or something like that.

As I sank my teeth into its flesh, however, I was yanked back to reality. At that moment, I felt a quivering between my fingers. It was like the shrimp was giving one final scream, a death shake. Suddenly filled with disgust, I tossed the head of the shrimp into the bowl from whence it came.

A few moments later, I remembered to enjoy the taste of the shrimp in my mouth. It was indeed quite fresh. Quite tasty.

But would I go through it a second time to achieve that level of tastiness? Nope. I left the other two shrimp for my friends. It was also revealed at this point removing the heads from the start was permissible. In other words, there was no need to eat it while it was still mobile.

*facepalm*

Last night at a work enkai, I asked one of my coworkers if this was indeed a normal thing. Woman #2 had acted as if this kind of thing happened all the time, all over the country. Thankfully, my coworker's shocked reaction confirmed to me that this was, indeed, not a normal meal.

The night got better after that.

A few minutes, perhaps a half hour later, the owner returned to our table. He informed us that, of the other customers currently in the restaurant, there happened to be an a capella group. They also happened to be singing. We had heard the singing earlier, but thought it was a recording.

So naturally we wandered over to the a capella group's table and introduced ourselves. And just as naturally, they decided to put on a performance for us.

Happily, and with our jaws still hanging a bit open, we allowed ourselves to be serenaded. And when the song was over, the next natural step was to change our location to the table right next to the a capella group. Then, just to add the icing to the cake, the owner decided to give us all a free round of miso soup.

We stayed there as long as we could, until the staff informed us that the bar was closing for the night. Then, to send us on our way, the owner gave us each two bananas and an orange, stuck a can on his head, and took a picture with us. Why? I have no idea. Nor do I care.

I love Japan.

~Jeffles

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

Golden Weeking

Today, as you probably know, it is April 26th. That may not mean much to you, but it certainly means something to me. And what it means is this:

Golden Week is coming.

Very soon, in fact. It will arrive in TWO DAYS. That's right, you heard me. Two. Days. If today is Thursday, then Golden Week will be here on what day? Come on now, say it with me. Saturday.

Good job.

You get a Gold Star!

What is Golden Week, you ask? Golden Week is a short period of time in which there are several national holidays. Essentially, this results in a week during which the entire country goes on vacation. This year, Golden week consists of two successive long weekends, one being a 3 day long weekend and the other being a 4 day long weekend.

But this is not necessarily the fantastic, wonderful gift that you might expect it to be. Plane, train, bus, and hotel prices sky rocket. A trip that might only cost you $300 at any other time of year will now cost you at least twice that amount. And you may not even be able to make the trip in the first place. Why? Because hotels at popular destinations may have already been entirely booked up for six months to a year in advance.

Yes, really. In fact, this happened to me. A few friends and I were planning to go to Yakushima for the second part of golden week. It's an incredibly gorgeous island that is famed for its nature, its obscenely old trees, its incredible hikes, and its mind-bending beauty. It is so beautiful, in fact, that Hayao Miyazaki based the forest setting of his famous movie, Princess Mononoke, on the island.

Unfortunately, despite looking a full two months in advance, my friends and I could not find a single place to lodge ourselves. Sadness. :(

Yeah, that sucked. But we all ended up making new plans, so it's okay. And now, Golden week is just around the corner. In fact, it begins tomorrow for me. When school gets out I will head down to the city to see my friend put on what will certainly be a super awesome DJ set. From there, it's Ise, Osaka, and later Fukuoka. Should be a good time.

What about you? If you live in Japan, what are your plans for Golden Week? If you don't live in Japan, what WOULD you do given a free week to travel?

~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