It’s amazing to think back and realize just how much has changed and how much I’ve experienced in the span of a week. Even more surprising is how difficult I’m finding it to put together coherent English thoughts!  I think I’ll start by pulling a Christopher Nolan and explaining where I currently find myself, and then flashing back to what I’ve experienced since reaching Japan. At the moment, I’m sitting in my snug room in the Sasakawa household. It’s actually probably one of the biggest rooms in the house now that I think about it, rivaled only by the kitchen/living room/dining room upstairs. I met my homestay mother this afternoon at 2, and together with a CIE mediator talked about the various expectations of living in the house. Nothing is too concerning, except for the grievous lack of internet.  I was really hoping this worry wouldn’t come to fruition, but it has. I have yet to figure out where and how I’m going to wrangle me some o’ that precious Webternetz, but the good news is that I’m super smart (and humble!), so I expect to figure out a workable solution any time now.

My homestay mother, Tomie, is, as far as I can tell, really just looking for someone to dote on, and I happened to be lucky enough to become her dotee (add that to the list of not-words that should be words.) She’s almost always talking, except when she’s cooking, which is comforting; I was afraid I was going to get a super reserved, quiet family and end up starved for attention (like at home :P).  She complains that her husband is always off with friends and when he’s home, he doesn’t say much.  We actually had an incredibly in-depth conversation today about how men in Japan still adhere to samurai stoicism, and how women are still primarily relegated to be housewives.  Not too bad for my first week with the family!

My homestay father is a grandfatherly, jovial fellow with a perpetual twinkle in his eye.  He seems really laid back, and is pretty quiet until a topic comes up that he cares about.  Then he has tons of questions, usually about how we do things in America.  He actually reminds me a lot of a Japanese Grandpa John, now that I think about it.  He speaks really quickly and kind of slurs things together, so my okasan will occasionally slap him upside the head and tell him to speak slowly for me, to which he merely responds with a chuckle and continues talking at the same pace.  I’m having an easier time understanding him now that I realized that, like most old people in America, he has a set phrase that he begins and ends every single sentence with, and it’s sprinkled in the middle occasionally as well.   Y’know how, for instance, older folks in Minnesota will, y’know, do that from time to time in place of something else to say, y’know? Yep, same thing.

I gave them my gift yesterday; the picture book on Minnesota that took me eons to pick out.  They absolutely ADORED it, and had questions on every picture.  In particular, it took great effort on my part to convince them that, no, Lake Superior is not an ocean.  When I thought the matter had been settled, they rebuttled (once again, should be a word) by showing me a map of Japan and illustrating to me that the Great Lakes are larger in area that what they typically call a sea.  I eventually gave up and let them have it.  Gotta know when to quit.  They also greatly enjoyed the pictures that I showed them of my family and friends in America (a.k.a. youse guys.)  They thought that both Mom and Grandpa Walt were adorable, Dad looked like a “big man” and they had no idea what the crap Ava was.  I had to introduce her as my younger sister in every single picture, because she constantly had different hair colors and lengths in each picture.  They occasionally mixed me up with Ava too.  Oh, and they also thought that I had the word for younger sister and older sister mixed up, so I received multiple demonstrations regarding that.  They still don’t believe that Ava is 1) younger than me and 2) not a dude. 

*Flashback*

After arriving in Japan and making a brief meal of ramen at one of the airport restaurants, we were ferried from the Kansai airport to the university in Hirakata-shi. Strangely, we received very little welcome upon arriving; we were merely handed a thick packet of important paperwork and tasks to complete, and then expected to scamper off to bed.  I met one of my roommates that night; an Australian guy who had been to Japan three times before and was very proficient in Japanese.  Even after being unable to sleep at all on the plane, I decided that sleep was for the weak and instead chose to explore the nearby Hirakata neighborhood.  One of the first things I noticed was that Japanese sidewalks do not seem to be intended for more than one person to walk abreast. They’re incredibly narrow, and intermittently there are large metal cylinders that are roughly groin-height and maliciously painted the color of darkness.  I have no idea what purpose they serve, but it’s either to discourage distracted bicycle riding or to castrate foreigners. Either way, they do their job well.  Furthermore, I noticed that Japanese roadways are one of the most dangerous things I’ve ever witnessed. Speed limits seem to be almost completely disregarded, intersections don’t always have stop signs, and yielding to innocent pedestrians in crosswalks seems to be completely optional. The Japanese have no troubles with the system whatsoever, of course. It’s not uncommon to see two little girls riding tandem on a bike on the miniscule shoulder of the road, swerving to within inches of a splattery death, and yet texting while they natter on to each other.  While on a bike, it’s actually against the law to ride on the sidewalk, ride tandem with someone, text, talk on the phone, listen to music, hold an umbrella, or any other task that could impair your driving ability.  However, I kid you not, after learning this, within the hour I saw someone doing almost all of the above AT ONCE.  Don’t let the statistics fool you; people may say that Japan has no crime, but that’s just because they have no REAL crime. If one were to count all of the laws blatantly disregarded by cyclists, then Japan would no doubt rival Detroit in terms of total infractions.

The Number 1 Threat

The following morning and early afternoon primarily consisted of orientation meetings, paperwork, and class registration, so there’s nothing terribly interesting to report. After that was all taken care of, however, I met my speaking partner, Rina, for the first time.  Together, she and I went to meet her speaking partners from last semester, who are once again studying at Kansai. After chatting for a little bit and getting a lot of good advice from them, Rina and I got food and went to hang out at her apartment. It was a grand old time, as we watched anime, ate chocolate, discussed the myriad differences between Japan and America, and also shared our native language’s tongue twisters with one another.  I don’t claim to be any better myself, but if you get the chance, ask a Japanese person to say “She sells sea shells down by the sea shore.” You won’t regret it.

*End Flashback*

That’s all I have time for right now folks, but next time I intend to continue the previously started flashback with details of my first trips to Kyoto and Osaka.  I’m sure it will be packed with exciting content, but even if it’s not, I bet a good chunk of y’all will read it anyway! :P Oh, but I will actually have pictures next time too, so I spose that's at least one real reason to come back.