Author: dsawchuk

And now, I attempt to settle in. After work yesterday, I began opening up the boxes my predecessor, Polly, had left me. Sifting through the jetsam to find anything useful has proven to be time-consuming and I find myself wishing Polly had made a greater effort to weed out the garbage. I have no use for her knick-knacks – they were probably gifts to her and perhaps had some meaning, but to me, they’re trash. Though, they couldn’t have meant that much to her either if she left them behind.

That evening, Jo, Brent, Kurt, Maria and I hunted for someplace to eat that would accommodate the vegetarian needs of yours truly. We visited a couple of izakayas that turned us away. Wandering Ichinoseki’s small streets, we eventually wound up at a Korean restaurant named, oddly enough, Toronto. I can’t explain that one.

The emerging trend in all my meals has been the attempt to find suitable meat-free dishes. Japanese speakers and even locals have been doing their best to find food that won’t be topped with some vegetarian unfriendly fare, but inevitably, some ham finds its way onto my plate. Always ham. Odd. I suppose with their shortage of beef and the avian flu scare that ham is the best animal product to throw, unwanted, onto the gaijin’s food. I had something resembling a pizza and the ham was plentiful. We stayed and chatted a while and Sarah joined us, then Brent but he couldn’t actually stay for the meal due to his choir practice.

With bellies full, Kurt, Sarah and I strolled to Sarah’s favourite little bar (whose name, of course, I can’t remember. Yoshi runs the place and Sarah exchanges English and Japanese lessons with him. It’s a small place with about six tables and orange retro chairs. To the right, as you enter, are three turntables and, behind them, a powerbook cycling through some mp3s of ambient music and 70’s soul. The large windows at the front of the bar are, apparently, uncommon in Japan – people seem to seek some privacy in the bars. Not so at this place – any trip is likely to include some stares from outside.

We were joined by Hanna, a friend of Sarah’s, who is also a teacher in Ichinoseki. She works for GEOS and had only just completed her workday at 10 pm. She has been teaching here since January and has had a decidedly different experience from what I (or any other JET) might expect. She begins work at 10 or 11 each morning and seems to be staying to 10 each night. Her work is much more formal and, I suspect, rigorous. Sarah pointed out, however, that Hanna may see more results for her work than we do. She does seem content despite some of the difficulties of her workplace.

We walked our separate ways when we had our fill of Doritos and drinks. Sarah and I passed through the warm streets while Kurt and Hanna walked to the opposite side of town.

I think my body is still adjusting to the time difference. I stayed up a bit later than I should have then woke too early once more. It did, however, allow me to make a good dent in the boxes left and I have managed to sort my kitchen items.

I tried to have a nap – I only succeeded for a short while, but I couldn’t seem to figure out the controls for the air conditioner. Still with fogged mind, I tried to navigate Saty’s aisles by myself. Perhaps not the best idea. I managed to pick out some ‘Body Shampoo’ a.k.a. soap, spaghetti and tomato sauce as well as some more Pocari Sweat. There’s nothing like the juice of real pocaris to keep you hydrated.

I managed to cook lunch without burning the house down and only had to call Sarah once for instructions on operating the gas stove. She later guided me to some of the more useful local shops. I may join her and Hanna for dinner and a movie later this evening if I feel up to it.

Tomorrow, we plan on going to Morioka to view some of the festival there and meet Hazuki once more.

4:00pm

Aya sits at the computer across from my desk. She has guided me through the process of obtaining my gaijin card as well as my bank account. Her English comprehension is quite good and, I’m told, her speaking has improved considerably. She is the best translator we have in the office and serves as the liaison between the speakers of the two languages here. On Monday, she gets a gift.

The fan oscillates and the brief second it is pointed in my direction is far too fleeting. In truth, the heat is bearable and I shouldn’t complain. The humidity makes life more interesting, but overall, I’m not dying (as I was sure I would that one day in Ghana when thermometers were popping). Life at my new home isn’t too bad because I can wander around in next to nothing and I don’t have to share the fan with anyone. Ah, the single life’

There goes that fan again. If this were not Japan and I was in a more relaxed office environment, I would turn off the oscillation and point it in my direction just to see how long it was before anyone noticed. But I doubt such harmless hijinks would be especially well-received here. Who knows? I may be underestimating their senses of humour.

I could probably joke with them about turning the fan my way, but to actually do it would no doubt be some terrible faux pas. How gauche! Laughter is all too uncommon in the office. I must think of ways to alter that trend without offending everyone’

I left off describing yesterday. Sarah and I chatted all the way to Ichinoseki and she graciously answered all of my questions. She will, no doubt, be the person on which I rely the most in my early time here. She’s very helpful and kind and her desk is next to mine in the office, so what could be more convenient?

When we arrived in Ichinoseki, we first went to the office where I was decidedly impressive with the four lines of Japanese self-introduction that I fumbled through in front of the office. I met my co-workers and was shown my lovely desk. Sarah and Aya had decorated it with a large ‘Welcome Darby’ sign that currently sits below my computer. I will have to take a photo before I disassemble it.

Everyone seems very friendly and genuinely excited to have me here. From what I’m told, Polly, my predecessor had been stirring trouble here and was wearing out her welcome. The office seems happy for the change and the men seem content to have a change from all the female ALTs that have been occupying the office for so long.

The short stay in the office lasted until 4:15, the set time at which I am permitted to leave. After that, I was driven to my new apartment. Now, this is my first real apartment to myself, so it’s a rather exciting time for me. The location seems unproblematic though my view isn’t all that spectacular (I really can’t complain about that in Japan though). Basically, I am immediately behind Ichinoseki’s largest department/grocery store, Saty. Getting food will never be a problem.

I’m on the second floor, middle apartment. Stepping inside the door is the foyer (whose proper Japanese name, I’m forgetting) where shoes are placed before entering the room. Then comes the kitchen in all its hardwood floor glory. Boxes are scattered throughout and will make for a fun weekend of unpacking. To the right of the kitchen is a washing area including the commode, the shower, the washer/dryer and a mirror/sink area.

Past the kitchen, the left room is my living room space with a love seat, table, shelves, closet, television and boxes a plenty. It’s a nice enough space, but despite its relatively small size (by Western standards) it feels rather vacant at present.

My bedroom is to the right. It feels even more vacant. A bed and some linens were all that greeted me there. I also have a balcony that opens out from the two back rooms and looks onto another apartment block behind me.

Sarah took me shopping for breakfast foods at Saty, put me through the grocery store paces, then walked me home. I must confess I got a bit giddy after being shown around the place. After everyone left, I started playing Tom Waits’ ‘Big in Japan’ and dancing around in my underwear. I mean, what else was I going to do?

After freshening up a bit I was dragged off to my welcome enkai. Sarah wanted to have it next week after I had settled a little and wasn’t quite so tired from the journey, but no luck. We went to a small restaurant where an incredible assortment of bizarre vegetarian dishes was paraded in front of us. To give some sense of how strange they were, even the Japanese people at the table were surprised by the contents. The effort that went into finding an entirely vegetarian menu was not lost on me and I very much appreciated that the rest of the staff was going to give a meatless meal a go. That lasted all of ten minutes before they ordered fish.

Nearly a dozen of us sat and kneeled around the table. I had a good view of the fish tank, which is always a bonus for an animal lover (even though their fate is pretty much sealed – being fish in a Japanese restaurant and all). My supervisors and co-workers watched my every bite with eager anticipation for my reactions to the foreign flavours. Each new dish sampled was a new smile for them as they gauged whether the gaijin liked these odd concoctions.

Their friendliness was infectious. Each of them desperately wanted to try to use English and when they were successful, rousing cheers and applause erupted. And each time they understood something I said was like opening a Christmas present. With every new phrase, they repeated as much of it as they could, replayed gestures and laughed uproariously. I can only hope that the same joy in attempting to learn a new language is as prevalent in my future students.

I would list off some of the dishes we had if I could. I know there was some wonderful tempura and tasty soba noodles (which were presented in a cute little box made of sticks – at some future date, I’m sure I will be able title them properly and not have to resort to ‘sticks’ for identification purposes. Other dishes included a nice tofu and daikon, some vegetables topped with mayonnaise (mayo, twice in one day!), an unidentifiable jelly, soup with who knows what in it, a dish that may have been eggplant and many more similarly alien culinary creations.

As a parting touch, they offered me a sour plum that usually seems to send foreigners into fits. I munched on a small portion and, whole it wasn’t a nice thing to have in my mouth, I have had to eat some far less tasty treats in my life. I didn’t gag, but I may have made a bit of a face. I offered the rest to the man sitting beside me and he gladly wolfed down my leftovers.

All this must have cost a fortune – innumerable dishes sat before me at the end of the evening. I think everyone had a good time and enjoyed trying to make conversation and jokes with me. Sarah said it was a good enkai; it didn’t get out of control with the drinks and everyone’s spirits were still high.

I walked home with Sarah and Aya. We stopped briefly at Sarah’s favourite bar. Near home, we crossed paths with two other Iwate JETs, Jo and Brent. They cheerily welcomed me to Iwate and we chatted about all things Ichinoseki. And after some time spent at Sarah’s I ambled home where I experienced a minor emergency – I violated one of the cardinal rules of moving into a new apartment: make sure you have toilet paper. A quick shower solved that problem, but I had to shake my head at the novice error.

I eventually arranged myself for sleep, but I fought with the futon through the night. This morning, my back was not especially pleased with me, but it loosened up as I awoke and got on with my day. Again, I rose too early and I’m now feeling the fatigue because of it.

This morning saw me meet the mayor (who received my Calgary calendar). The meeting was brief and didn’t involve any cameras (as Sarah’s did). Then I met the prefectural board of education and one of the other Ichinoseki JETs, Kurt who later joined us for lunch. The morning’s other errands were to fill out the necessary forms for my gaijin card and also stop at the bank to open an account. Lunch was with Toru san, Aya san, Sarah and Kurt at a place just around the corner from city hall. I must have been spoiled last night since today’s small portion of spaghetti with tomato sauce had, of course, a couple pieces of ham on top. Surprise, surprise – even though we asked for no meat.

And as you may have guessed from the length of all this, I haven’t had much to do in the afternoon. After cleaning up my desk, I was left with nothing to do. I get the impression that I will have more than a few of such days, but once I get some of my personal projects on the go, that shouldn’t be too much of a worry. I suspect my years of training in boredom prevention will come in handy here.

My impression of Ichinoseki and the relatively insignificant portion of the area that I have seen is that I will enjoy my time here. I can very much see myself spending another year unless the teaching aspect of my work is abhorrent. The beginning may be difficult, but I suspect it will get easier with time, so I’m not too concerned. I’m comfortable, the people are warm and the area offers so many opportunities for exploration. Unless I’m miserable, it would only be logical for me to stay.

Though Ichinoseki itself isn’t especially vibrant or attractive, it sits in the heart of a wonderful area and it will serve as a good place to call home.

8:00 am

Ichinoseki. I’m finally here. And still, everything remains hard to believe.

I’m sitting in my lovely new apartment, tatami mats underfoot, paper screens diffusing the outdoor light. I am in Japan. Music from home playing on my computer is my only immediate reminder of my former life. Though I doubt I’ll forget who I am anytime soon, it’s good to have those reminders of where you’ve been and who you’ve become.

Yesterday, kept the group of Iwate JETs going through the paces. We had a mini-orientation in Morioka where some additional points specific to our prefecture were addressed. Then, each of us underwent brief testing of our language ability. I was among the first and the test consisted of them asking me two questions – which I’m sure were quite basic in nature – to which I had to reply ‘wakarimasen’ (I don’t understand). They said thank you and I was done.

While waiting around for the rest of the group to finish their testing, I was recalled for some reason for additional testing, as though perhaps I had learned some Japanese in that time. This time, they asked me to say the words for various numbers they had printed and I passed that test after having to count out loud a couple times. Next was some hiragana (or possibly katakana, I can’t yet remember which is which) that they wanted me to read. No dice. Then, they showed me a picture of a room and, I was able to figure out that they wanted me to point to some specific object in the room, but I missed the vital piece of information about which object it was. They bid me farewell once more, but at least this time I wasn’t completely incompetent with the language. I could count damn it!

After much waiting about, we then strolled over to the local chapter of Gusto, a chain of family restaurants in Japan that sell some Western food and actually have a non-smoking section (a novel idea!). Allan, April and Collin joined me at my table and we indulged in the drink bar’s carbonated delights then chowed down on our mayonnaise-covered pizzas. Yeah, mayonnaise. It serves as a substitute for tomato sauce here and I assure you the pizza was as appetizing as you might imagine. It was a fun time though. Definitely an adventure learning to use the bells on the table to call for service and get our fortunes read by the computer at our side.

After Gusto’s artery-clogging fare, we returned to the Hotel Ace for the ceremony where we would meet our supervisors. I actually met one of my co-workers, Torou-san, and a fellow Ichinoseki JET, Sarah. I was just freshening up in the lobby washroom and just as I emerged, there was a man in broken English asking me if I was Darby. Surprised to be meeting the man I thought was my supervisor in this manner, I casually introduced myself to both Torou-San and Sarah and we started chatting immediately. Apparently I fared well with the introductions though – Sarah later said that Torou-san suggested I seemed quite relaxed upon meeting him; I suppose that’s a positive.

We proceeded upstairs for the formal greeting and after a few more speeches, Torou-san and I shook hands in front of everyone and we were ready to go.
Bless the inventors of air-conditioning as the car ride back to Ichinoseki might have been a nightmare without it. The temperature, at present, is about as hot as I am likely to experience in Iwate.

I woke early this morning and wandered back to the park for more photos. Such a gorgeous place. I hope each city can offer up a place so remarkable.

On my way back to the hotel, I met a man named Mr. Sakamoto who was going for a morning run. He greeted me in English and we conversed all the way back to the hotel with a side trip for a drink at a communal pool. Atop a small waterfall/fountain, a couple of mugs sat in a plastic bin. Mr. Sakamoto drank and insisted I have a try. He said he frequently stops there on his hour-long morning runs. This marathon runner managed to make me feel rather lazy since he’s 73 years old and I wouldn’t even come close to keeping up with him.

Today, the major event that has everyone on pins and needles is the meeting of the supervisors. This afternoon marks the last of our time being hand held being by the JET programme. Group life will come to an end and we will begin coping by ourselves.

As I was saying to Chi-Wei (I remembered her name finally) last night, I’m looking forward to settling into my new home, but at the same time, I’m dreading being alone. The language is truly going to make my life difficult and I’ll have to adjust rather quickly. So far, I’ve had people to help me along, but I don’t know what kind of resources I’ll have when in Ichinoseki. Just so long as I don’t starve or get sick from eating meat, I’ll be okay.

10:00 pm

I am starting to become cognizant of my opportunities here. The central park of Morioka was recommended to me by one of the group leaders (whose name I’m not sure I ever properly caught) so I armed myself with my tripod and cameras and ventured in that direction. Good choice.

Japanese gardens stood on various terraces of the ruined walls of Morioka castle while the sun’s light slanted from the sky. The serenity of the place, however, was broken by the intricate patterns of groups of drummers practicing for the upcoming festival. I wandered through the trees, then down to the square where the drummers were accompanied by flutists and singers. Lost in the drumming, I failed to explore the whole of the park. The glimpse I had, however, revealed additional gorgeous possibilities.

Depending on the quality of my sleep, I may wake early and wind through more of the park’s paths though it is getting late already and breakfast tomorrow is early. We shall see.

After my explorations, I rejoined the group at the restaurant where the forced Japanese ‘vegetarian’ weight loss program continued. My meal had its high points of tasty seaweed wrapped rice, but the rest of the food was not especially pleasant – not to mention it was decorated with ham on one portion of the plate. Sour vinegar lined the bottom of the dish making anything it touched unpalatable – noodles and vegetables were soaked and later discarded.

After dinner, the rest of the group continued its evening at an Irish pub. I considered staying in an attempt to find a partner for a game of darts, but quickly abandoned the bar. Drinking and socializing were the order of the night and I couldn’t be bothered to wear an energetic mask for long. Sleep is a more intriguing companion tonight.

4:00 pm

We got dressed in suits. We walked past the stone-splitting cherry tree and to the prefectural office. We were to meet important people and present ourselves as new JETs. We were divided into two groups: the prefectural and the municipal. We municipal JETs visited the eighth floor where we sat round a table and had a very informal question and answer period with the people who have already been leading us through the prefecture already. Why were we wearing suits again?

The prefectural group, apparently, were interviewed on television and a few of them even got to see the subsequent broadcast. They received certificates, presumably from important people. They had reason for suits.

I always hated wearing suits. I can’t think of an occasion where it hasn’t been a bother to wear the dreaded jacket and tie combination. I always felt a tie was a noose or, at best, a leash. I always loathed the superficiality of making my appearance count for people. I always wanted to be noticed for my character, not for the shine of my shoes. I suppose, when the language barrier is so impenetrable, however, that looks become the default standard for human evaluation. I am a closed book with a pretty cover.

1:00 pm

A small hotel room in Morioka. The Japanese premium on space is becoming ever more apparent. The bed dominates the room and my chair only barely fits comfortably between the bed and desk. It almost feels like a Murakami character could come knocking on my door any second coolly demanding, with no explanation, that I gather my things to be escorted to the black limousine waiting outside. This sense of absurdity is broken only by the music seeping from the laptop’s speakers. I need a little taste of home, don’t I? For right now, Billy Talent reminds me of Canada.

We just arrived at the Hotel Ace in downtown Morioka where we have time to kill before a presentation of our certificates. What the certificates represent has slipped my mind, but that only adds to the surrealism of having arrived in Northern Japan with a group of people I hardly know to teach – a job at which I have no experience. But, given the endless speeches, workshops, lineups, travel, and periods of waiting, I’m surprisingly energetic. Maybe it’s the music.

Last night, Canadians were herded through the hotel as we attempted to check our bags then make our way into a taxi to visit the Canadian embassy. A good 200 of us braved the Tokyo streets to find ourselves at a rather impressive piece of property where the Canadian government has set up both an embassy and an office tower. Apparently, it’s the only self-sufficient Canadian embassy – the land is prime real estate and the office space they rent out easily pays for the embassy’s operations.

The purpose of our invitation there was quickly divulged to us. They wanted to indoctrinate us to incessantly tout the virtues of our fine country to the Japanese people. We were to become 200 unpaid tourism and promotion agents. But at least they gave us some food. As is quickly becoming the norm in Japan, the vegetarian pickings were slim, but I managed to pack enough food into my stomach to keep me from having to buy additional dinner later.

The highlight of the visit to the embassy, however, was the table hockey. A nice slice of home, a few of us had sudden death games of red versus blue or Canadiens versus Leafs or Flames versus Lightning, depending on who was the commentator at the time. I lost my match to Owen’s Canadiens despite some rock-solid, Terry Sawchuk-esque goaltending.

Our trip home was on the subway that proved to be remarkably simple to use. Dave led us to the station and put us through the paces to get our tickets then led us to the right line. The subway trains were enough to make the passengers jealous of sardines. Even at that semi-late hour, the cars were past packed – in Calgary, most people would have simply waited for another train, but fighting your way on board is the norm here.

Once back at the hotel, I gathered my cameras and navigated the Keio plaza’s labyrinthine lift system to get to the 47th floor for more top-floor photos. The staff there was kind enough to dim the lights and open the curtains for me while I shot the landscape that looks like a leftover set from Blade Runner. Yes, I did just make that comparison – I know everyone else who has seen the film and been to Tokyo says that, but perhaps there’s a reason.

An early evening still didn’t provide that much sleep since Darrell’s snores kept my ears on edge for the last half of the night. If only I could have worn my ear plugs, but I didn’t want to miss my alarm for the departure this morning.

After breakfast and another substantial waiting period, we boarded a bus to the station. There, we had time to grab some lunch for the train ride and I finally started feeling like I was in Japan. The stations halls were as busy as an ant hill and had a similar chaotic order to them. Vending machines lined the walls between food kiosks and Hazuki guided me to the most vegetarian noodle option we could find (which turned out to be a little bit fishy, but bearable).

The bullet train ride was as smooth as could be – you hardly noticed you were speeding past the countryside. It certainly didn’t feel nearly as quick as it was. The landscape whizzing past us was never free from the hand of man. Where houses and buildings didn’t cover the landscape, rice paddies stretched over the flat land. Occasionally, a tree-lined hill would rise and hint at the distant mountains, but they soon rejoined the level ground. Iwate, however has more texture to the terrain. The proportion of hills to flat land here is greater than in the rest of the journey.

8:00 pm

It’s now 8:00 pm and I’m battling jet lag and losing. I think I will make this a quiet evening despite having the option of going out with a group of people from my prefecture. But I’m not just being a sleep-deprived wimp. The price is rather prohibitive. I would have to pay 4500 Yen for a set meal and all I can drink. The set meal isn’t vegetarian and the drinking portion is as unappealing to me now as it would be back home. So, when you do the conversion, I would be paying about $45 US dollars to watch a bunch of future colleagues get pissed. Sure, I’ll be hanging out with future colleagues, but I think I might want to reserve that for a less financially intrusive opportunity.

Today was actually a bit of a blur. The morning was occupied by a set of speakers standing in front of 1500 incredibly moist teachers. Tokyo’s humidity isn’t especially accommodating to that large number of people in a room at once. We were given stacks of papers, books and brochures to take with us to our new homes, but they ended up serving only as fans to keep cool.

Right now, I honestly can’t remember much of the content I tried to ingest. I only remember thinking that one of the presenters’ English was good enough to make decent jokes – a rarity in my limited experience here.

After a tasty-enough lunch, more speakers awaited then a video about a day in the life of an assistant language teacher. Made in 1993, the age was showing on this Hollywood blockbuster. An ALT and a JLT walk past a classroom where an orchestra is playing. ‘Is that the music class?’ the ALT inquires in a true showing of his mastery of Japanese culture. It was a good watch filled with unintentional humour.

We then had a series of workshops where I attended talks about teaching at the elementary level, traveling as a JET and being a vegetarian in Japan. Then again, looking at what I wrote above, I already told you about this a bit’

I tried having a fifteen-minute nap, but I think a whole two minutes was had before dinner. I’m now digesting and thinking about going outside for a few photos, but I don’t think I will last too long before I pass out. So, it might just be an early-ish night and hopefully I won’t wake up at five in the morning, and unable to resume sleeping.

8:00 am

I’ve since had breakfast up on the 43rd floor directly across from a rather impressive Tokyo administration building. The light was quite interesting and the sprawl of the city was quite evident, but by the time I returned to the room to get the camera, a downpour drenched the whole city and I lost my photo op. Now, I just have pictures of mist covered buildings through rain-covered windows.

I’m currently waiting for events to get underway. I’ll soon have to re-don my suit and head downstairs so that someone can tell us for the 322nd time that we are the ‘best and brightest’ and so on. The workshops toward the end of the day may be promising. The ones I think I will attend are the ones about money saving techniques, travel as a JET and vegetarianism (where they will proceed to tell us, ‘You’re screwed!’).

After a conversation at breakfast this morning with a fellow vegetarian, I keep getting that impression more and more. She talked about how she is going to allow herself to have fish broth since she will hardly be able eat anything otherwise. I might have to go the same route. She also mentioned that she had been trying to eat a bit of seafood before she came and somehow got the brilliant idea that she should eat a whole lobster on the fourth of July. She was sick for five days.

6:40 am

I’m pre-emptively writing these notes in my hotel room since getting a connection downstairs requires sacrificing a first-born child. There’s something like 1500 JETs in this hotel and while I could conceivably fight them all, I wouldn’t want to deal with all the blood stains on my clothes. I’m a ninja, but not when it comes to laundry.

It’s 6:40 am and I’m just waiting for the breakfast hall to open. Since it’s the equivalent of 3:40 back home, starvation is setting in.

Last night, I went for my first Japanese dining experience and I had a couple of good Japanese speakers along for the ride, so they were able to guide me through the process. I have, however, already had my first meat slip up. There seemed to be pork or some other formerly-living product residing in my mizo soup – an unusual phenomenon I’m told. I’m probably going to have to learn to love mizo soup and just start hoping that I get more meat-free versions in the future.

My roommates are a couple other guys from Alberta and so far we’ve all managed to share our bathroom considerately. We’re all adjusting our internal clocks and griping about the ironing situation. No wait, I could care less about ironing.

Tokyo is enormous. I can’t think of any city I’ve visited that is so densely packed while simultaneously being so sprawling. Apartment buildings are crammed together with no space in between and fill endless stretches of city blocks. The only real landmark we passed on the way to the hotel was Tokyo Disney – it just looked like Disneyland, but oddly enough, with more trees.

The weather has been incredibly humid and quite warm. I don’t find it unbearable, but there have been more than a few complaints that have reached my ears. It’s not so bad though. I mean, I could probably grow rice in my underwear it’s so humid, but I haven’t wanted to pass out or anything (though apparently one girl did while waiting in line at Narita airport – she wasn’t a JET, so I think she just got tired of being in an endless line with a bunch of sleep-deprived rookie teachers and wanted a quick way out).

The flight over was uneventful. I tried every means at my disposal to get some sleep, but only managed an hour. Ear plugs, a neck pillow, and a sleeping pill couldn’t do it for me. I’m just fated to never sleep on planes. I did, however, get stuck next to someone who took the Celestine Prophecies seriously and wanted to talk philosophy with me in that context. Somewhere, my B.A. is crying.

Today, we’ll be running the gauntlet of conference speakers. It could prove to be long and dull, or somewhat interesting. I’m hoping for the latter, but not holding my breath. I believe I get to meet other people from my prefecture, so we’ll see if I can find someone who wants to check out some festivals or something.