Piczo

Out Like A Lion

When I was an elementary school student, the teachers used to describe the month of March with a pretty funky analogy. In like a lion, out like a lamb. I never quite understood how the month of March could go from the a beastly ferocious lion to this little softy nothing lamb. I still don't really understand the quote, but I like it alot of other reasons. Change it around a little bit and you'll get the following. In like a lamb, and out like a lion. This quote single handily describes my tenure as a Japanese student. More importantly as a Japanese student at Tosajoshi All Girl High School in Kochi, Japan. It all started in September 1, when I had my first day as a Japanese student. For more information, read 'First Day of School.' In short, I did a speech in front of 2,000 girls, my future classmates at Tosajoshi, in Japanese, a language I could barely use to say good morning, let alone introduce myself. But it wasn't just about the speech. I was a shy American exchange student, who once upon a time had been good at large scale speeches, but had since not been able to do even an English speech in front of a group larger than a class. I was also bit embarrassed and annoyed at being lavished in compliments of kawaii and glares of wonder. I was 15, and in a country I knew very little but about, in a school that was 100x stricter than the one at home, with teachers hawking over my tiny flub-ups even on the first day. I was thrown onto the stage and asked to do a welcoming speech with next to no preparation. But I can't be too hard on myself during that time. Because there was one thing that I tend to overlook. I did it. I came to Japan, even in it a lamb like fashion, quiet, shy, and ready to get pounced on by a wolf or get turned into a sweater. I still made it here, and I still stood on that stage and did that speech with pride and excitement. Nearly 10 and half months have passed since that first speech. 10 and half months filled of days where my sanity was truly dripping out ear. Tosajoshi is an All Girl school, which is a fabulous institution in one sense, and a bit unhealthy in another. In the first few months I watched as my classmates plucked their own arm hair, nose hairs, lifted theirs skirts in class to pull out a wedgie, come to school with no makeup and not even think twice about it. Other times they'd run through the hall, at about 17 and 18 years old, screaming like Monkeys and acting like the typical American toddler. I often found myself wondering if I'm actually a Koukou Ninensee (Junior) or a Sho Ninenesee (2nd grader) And yet, on the other hand, there is no place on earth I would have rather been. Being surrounded by only girls allows you to develop and prosper in different ways. In the homeroom, you are only competing against other girls. And with the ab sense of boys, no cliques have formed. Everyone is friends, and there are almost no outsiders in the school. Everyone belongs, which is the intention of an all girl school. What 10 and half months of servitude at Tosajoshi has done is brought out the real Julie. The happy-go-lucky, energetic, and adventurous girl who had always existed but just needed a little help from a group of silly, yet exciting Japanese girls. And now it was time to say goodbye. My farewell ceremony was to take place on July the 17th. As usual, when it comes to preparation and knowing what exactly I'm supposed to do, the Tosajoshi staff failed to tell me anything. It no longer bothers me anymore like it used to, when they would show up to my class 3 minutes before the English speech contest and tell me I had to judge, or how they would come 5 minutes after the bell rang to give Paula and I the papers we had to work on. Disorganization is a bit of an understatement, but once you can get used it, it no longer causes many problems. However failing to tell me about a speech in front of 2,000 girls, is a bit out of hand. I was SO lucky, in that, a few weeks before the closing ceremony, a different Gaijin teacher, and good friend, Craig, tipped me off. Mostly the tip off was to do everything the former exchange student did NOT do. He told her speech was 1 sentence in Japanese, when she burst into tears and then switched into English. This mere statement annoys me. After the good majority of a year, how could you not speak Japanese? In addition to this, she had her legs crossed allowing her underwear to be exposed to all the girls. The speech has sort of become something of a legend at my school. Now the girls kind if fight over what color she was wearing and who had a better view. And this is the same school, that I claim to have helped me become a different person. Anyway, after Craig told me about the speech, I began to sketch out some ideas. I had over a month to decide what to do, but I wrote the speech pretty quickly. My only problem was that I didn't have much time to practice it. I kept telling myself I would make sure to practice it the week of testing. The week of testing came and went, and I only practiced for a 5 minutes. It wasn't until 3 days before the big ceremony that I began to take it seriously. First, I went through a period of self-doubt about the speech. The real clincher was that I thought it was much too boring, and then remembering all the other speeches I had been subjected to, and I worried it wasn't boring enough. One night, after Yosakoi practice, Michiyo listened as I gave her the speech. She was honest with me, because that is exactly what I wanted her to be. She said the speech was not perfect, and yet, it was amazing, in every sense of the world. For someone who had only been here 11 months, having studied no Japanese before hand, there were only 2 grammatical mistakes. Plus my pronunciation was superb, compared to most English speakers attempt at Japanese. But what made me feel happiest, was that she told me what I really wanted to hear. My speech came from the heart, and even though it was nothing like what the Principal and the speakers at a Japanese school talk like, the speech was Me. On Monday, Japan celebrated Sea Day, and thus, we students had the day off from school. That night Craig, invited Me, Ruth, the new Gaijin English teacher, and Paula Fabian, up to his home for a barbecue. I practiced my speech in front of them, and found that I had an incredibly difficult time. There was only Craig, his wife and son, Paula, and Ruth, but I was incredibly nervous. I later figured out that I was so nervous because everyone could speak Japanese, as well as English. They all agreed that the content was nice, and much better than Zahra's but all commented on that I wasn't ery relaxed. Paula also came up with some giid ideas, which would later come out during my speech. Back in Mama, Kochi, my host family saw my speech, considerably less nervous, and agreed that it was great. I suppose this should have been relieving to me, but it wasn't. That night, while everyone slept soundly, I sat awake nervously watching the clock ticker by. Every so often, in an effort to ease my nerves, I would stand on my bed and practice the speech. I did eventually fall asleep, but then woke up especially early. Sometime, after I threw on my uniform, and completed my morning routine, the nerves seemed to dye away. And instead were was replaced by a massive and heavy amount of sadness. This was the last time in my ENTIRE life that I would have to be doing this. Though it is true, I have to go to clubs a bunch of times over the next few weeks, school would not truly be in session. This day was not about my speech, it was about saying goodbye to all those who had given me the best year of my life at Tosajoshi. And I began to feel foolish for wasting my time and being nervous. I departed the house, for that last time as a Japanese student, with my held high and a feeling in my heart screaming that this speech was going to be easy. I arrived at Tosajoshi 40 minutes early, which I planned. I wanted to walk through my classroom one last time, just by myself. I didn't want my classmates tailing me around and shouting at me to not be nervous or sad. Girls arm in arm talking about the latest drama, cellphone companies, arm hair, Disney, and other innocent jargon. I just wanted to be alone, for the first time, in a room filled with memories. After I put my belongings down at the chairs, I walked along the wooden desks, laughing at their miniscule size and thanking god that there was no major earthquake this year. I would have been crushed because I was much too big for these desks. I also skimmed through Chiake's textbooks, and found myself laughing out loud at her terrible English grammar testing scores. Not that I should really be laughing, I did really poorly for someone who is fluent in the language. I write my name is Japanese on the green board, and remembered the cleaning duties Chiake and I had at this board. The same duty that got me known around the school as the girl who tried to throw the chalk erasers out the window. I highlighted the date, July, 17, 2007, and thought of all the days I had been here in this room. All of those days, filled with a roller coaster of different feelings, sadness at feeling left out because of a language barrier, excitement at the feeling of truly being one of the girls, hunger at lunchtime with the piggy Japanese girls, laughter at getting back my poor English tests, and love when people who you have just only met are hugging you and making you feel like the luckiest person in the room. I had only a few moments of this strolling down memory lane, when White Eyes came in the room. She and I talked for a little while, remembering Yano-homeroom time with arm plucking Aimi, Crazy Shoko, Christmas, and Valentines Day. She told me that she considered herself to be one of the luckiest girls in the school, in that, she was able to be in the same class as me from the moment I arrived to the day I left Tosajoshi. Sometimes you are just too astounded to reply, which is how I found myself. A few moments before the bell rang, I decided to do a quick stroll throughout the school. As I passed along the halls, the stares and pointing became a little more obvious than usual. When I passed along the teachers room, I noticed the daily schedule, given out to all the teachers and announced to each class before the day began, was posted on the door. I read it, and found myself in shock. From 9:40 to 10:50, the closing ceremony was to take place. But it didn't just say the Closing Ceremony, it also added the Exchange Student Farewell Ceremony. The nerves were back, but not about screwing up and what not. This time I was nervous about failing to say an appropriate goodbye to all my new friends and teachers. Back in the classroom, my heary was beating at an unhealthy pace, and sweat poured down my far head. When Chiake spotted me, she asked me if I was sick, to which I pointed to the class schedule. She laughed, and told me not to worry about. Much easier said than done, buddy. Our first task of the morning was the obligatory cleaning at the end of all the terms and before the closing ceremony. It was my final cleaning, which is something I'm actually NOT going to miss. With my luck, I expected the group to be assigned to the toilets at the very least, but we got lucky. instead the 7 of us were given a light sentence to the Meeting Room. Chiake and I just scrubbed some windows and the floor. CHiake tried to cheer me up, but I was freaking out. After out cleaning, we returned to the classroom at around 9:30. With these extra 10 minutes, I had my really close classroom friends sign their names on to a giant red heart, to be used in the speech. I also used the bathroom, though I didn't puke, like I suspected I would. I don't want you to get the wrong idea, it wasn't nerves about how I was going to do this speech, like it had started out originally. But now it was a different type of nervousness, one that I have only experienced once or twice in my life. The only other time I can remember is just before the Koto concert. I wasn't nervous about playing, but I was scared to screw up and make the others look bad. The others, who had spent hours helping me and putting effort into making this performance special for the audience and for my own memory. Now it was feeling nervous for screwing up and not being able to say what I wanted to say. All the thank yous and the memories that were held in the words of speech. Perhaps I am a people pleaser, but this speech was not about me. It was about showing all the girls at my school that I had appreciated beyond words the incredible year they had given me. At 9:40, Chiake and I, arm in arm, walked down the 4 flights of stairs and across the courtyard, drink machine hall, and dance team practice room. We didn't speak, because she knew how nervous I was and she knew that silence was the best she could have given me. But she stuck with me anyway. When inside the Gym/Auditorium, my friends all gather around me before we parted. I received a giant hug and warm words of support. They knew I could do it, I knew I could do it. Then why was it so hard? Matsuoka-sensei, my school counselor seated me in one of the main seats, right next to another Noukou Ninensee class filled with girls from my old homeroom, Yano-homeroom. They asked me what I was doing, and I told them I was going to give my farewell speech. Most of them couldn't reply, but those that did were in awe at how quickly the year had flown by. Kaho snickered about how my first speech, although incredible for a girl who had only just started speaking Japanese, was very funny. At exactly, 9:45 the ceremony began, in a very Tosajoshi manner. I Gym teacher said good morning, and then began screaming at the girls for not sitting in Japanese saza position, the politest of all positions. He made them all stand up and sit in the position 3 or 4 times, before finally accepting the girls attempts. Somehow, nothing really surprises me anymore with Tosajoshi. Except one thing. This Closing Ceremony for me, became more of a Graduation. After the Gym teacher's student heckling, the Principal began. He called me onto the stage, and I walked up, clueless as to what I was supposed. I looked like a big fool, when I sat down in a chair, and then had to be yelled at in in Japanglish to stand up in front of the principal. And in a moment, of complete role reversal, I was no longer nervous. The look of fear spread on my face, turned into a big smile and burst into laughter. The whole auditorium, filled with stiff girls sitting in uncomfortable leg positions in a room not air-conditioned, witnessing a ceremony that was promised to be incredibly boring, smiled as well. I stood before the principal, my back facing the crowd, as all students do when they graduate from a Japanese High School. The only problem is that most students are quite short, allowing the principal to speak out onto the entire crowd. However, I'm a few inches taller and wider than the principal, so just before he began, the serious faced man stared at me, trying to figure out how this was going to work out. The principal also could not ignore my smile, and suppressed laughter. He, too, let out a smile, furthering the calmness in the room. He let out a comment, only I could hear, though he thought I could not understand. 'Well I best begin, since no one can see me anyway.' I snorted and he looked really embarrassed that I could understand what he said. In Japanese graduations, the Principal reads off all that is said on the Diploma and then politely hands the paper to the representative student, who must face the Principal and not the crowd. The student bows and then returns to her seat, carrying the diplomas on the side in a straight and orderly manner. I had two diplomas, one in Japanese, and one in English. The principal read off the Japanese one and then looked at the English one. The look he gave it was that of someone staring a piece of rotten cheese. It was obvious that he was supposed to read the English one, but I sent him a look saying that it wasn't necessity. I knew I probably made his day. But I think if he did read it, I would have been roaring in laughter from the terrible pronunciation. I was just in one of those moods. He gathered the papers in his hands, and handed them to me over desk in a bow. I think I finally did the correct thing, as I grasped the papers and bowed back. I turned around and walked to the seat on the stage. The principal, still at the main desk, waited until I was seated and then began his speech. Now normally I love being pampered by people in speeches, for one of the following reasons, my good Japanese, my obedience to the rules, how I am nothing like the previous exchange students, how I have made more friends and joined clubs and gotten the most involved in the Tosajoshi community... the list goes on and on. This particular speech was filled with all of this stuff, and yet, the speech was so boring that it could have put anyone in a coma within seconds. The girls, who had really perked up after watching me whisk around on stage and receiving my diploma, were put back in their hot coma's. Even though the speech was all about me, I wasn't even listening. It was just that bad. I'm not complaining though, because, this is exactly what happens at school graduations and other ceremonies. It was as authentically Japanese, as a Magarou Sushi with a side of Miso Soup, Nato, and a bowl of Rice. I tried to keep some of the girls awake. I was sitting on the main stage, with the spot light on me, and even though a normal human being would have been nervous, I was not. I was no longer nervous, maybe because I was so preoccupied with trying to stay awake. But I was also excited. I was ready to do this speech, and I knew in my heart I was going to do great. I looked up at Chiake, on the overhanging balcony, and she flashed me a thumbs up. So when, the principal was done, he called up the school presidents to give me a gift from the girls at the school. A few weeks ago when Matsuoka-sensei asked me what I wanted, I told him nothing. The girls at this school had already given me all that I ever needed. But after some more haggling, we decided on the uniform. Still costed the school nothing, because the one I chose belonged to a former exchange student and was paid for my Rotary. Some other teachers, knowing this clause, pitched in and bought me an expensive fan set and a Japanese cook book in English. The school president, my good friend, Arisa, stood on the stage and did a brief speech about what good friends were and what a great year this has been. It inly lasted for a few moments, until Cranky Gym Teacher asked everyone to sit down. Then as soon as I was down, he called me back up for the speech, a surge of excitement pulsated from my heart. As I stood up, over 4,000 brown eyes followed my movements, and a a big smile spread across my face. At the podium, I stood and looked out onto the crowd, and performed the obligatory bow. Then, instead of heading straight into the speech with the microphone, I took a deep breath, and reached into my front pocket. I was full of sup rises, when I removed my Kamaekaze headband. The white strip with the Japanese flag's sun, and the Kanji spelling out Japan, went on my head. The girls were all shocked, until I was finished tying it around my head. Even though I looked like someone who was about to drive a plane into an American aircraft carrier, I was taking in every second of the silence. When I smiled and opened my mouth to begin the speech, the students burst into an exuberantly loud applause. It was the final pat on the back in Good Luck. Even though the teachers were scowling at my act of comedy, I couldn't care less. And I began. ((The way I typed this out is a little bit confusing. I typed first Japanese, followed by the English translation. Occasionally I added some commentary and reactions from the crowds.)) "Minna-san Ohayou Gozaimasu!" [Everyone, Good Morning!] Kyonen no Kuugatsu Tsuitachi o obawachuu? [Do you remember last year's September the 1st?]" Instead of answering, mostly everyone laughed, including many of the sullen faced teachers. I intended for this to happen because I used a form of Tosa Ben, the Hick-like language spoken only in Kochi. "Watashi wa Werucomu Supechi o shimashita. Watashi wa 'Julie Garner deSUE. 15 sai deSUE. HajimemshiTAY. NihOnGOU o suKOshi o wakarimaSU' to imashita.' [I performed my Welcome speech. I said, making incredibly noticiable pronounciation mistakes, My name is Julie Garner. I'm 15. It's nice to meet you all. I understand a little bit of Japanese.' "Nihon ni kurumae ni, Nohongo o benkyou shimasen deshita. Dakara, Supichi no mae ni watashi wa sugoku choi totemo metcha kincho shimashita" [I didn't study any Japanese before I came here. Therefore, before the speech, I was super very really (all slang terms) nervous.] "Watashi wa ima wa faruweru supichi o shite imasu. Watashi wa kincho shimasen USO! Demo totemo totemo sabishi desu yo." [Now I am doing the Farewell speech. I'm not nervous, which is a big lie, but I am very very sad.] The girls cracked a few smiles when I called myself a liar. "Amerika ni Hachigatsu juusannichi ni kaerinakeraba narimasen. demo kaeritaikunai. Tosajoshi to atarashi tomodachi to hosto famiri to nihon no saikatsu ga daisuki desu yo." [I MUST return to American on August 13th, but I don't want to. I love Tosajoshi, my new friends, my host families, and my Japanese life.] At this point I looked to my homeroom, and saw CHiake burst into tears. "Toshajoshi de kuugatsu kara Sangatsu made koukou ichinensee ni imashita. Yano-take homu!!! haha... Judii wa nihongo o amari shabarimasen deshita demo saito o kamaimasen deshita. minna sugoku yasashikata. watashi wa yokata to omoimashita. undokai to bunkasai to disni on isu to harroween to kurisumasu to baretines dei to curasu matchi o shimashito. minna arigatou." [From September thru March, I was a High School first year in Yano-home! I didn't really speak Japanese, but the students didn't care. They were all so nice, and I thought it was good. We all participated in the Field Day, CUltural Festival, Disney on Ice, Halloween, Christmas, Valentines Day, and Class Matches. Everyone, thanks!] The girls in Yano-homeroom from my time as a Hogh school 1st grader, all cheered throughout the entire speech. "shigatsu kara kyou made fukumoto homu no koukou ninensee ni imasu. minna, gomen nasai demoy fukumoto-homu wa tosajoshi no ichiban subarashi homu. mainichi wa tanoshimidata.' {From April till today, I am a Fukumoto-homeroom High School 2nd grader. I'm sorry everybody, but Fukumoto-home is Tosajoshi's best class. Everyday was exciting...] "Bukatsu ni hairimashita. Rekujoubu wa Judii o takusan nihon no joku o oshiermashita. Aii! Obaka!" [I entered clubs at school. The track team taught me many Japanese jokes. *Makes a fool of one self as I perform the jokes, which involve joke slapping the principal over the forehead*] Even the girls from my homeroom, who had begun sobbing in the last section, were roaring in laughter. The track members were trying not wet themselves, and even the principal who had just gotten faked slapped over head was fighting to not laugh. By this part even the truly down trodden teachers were cracking a smile. I had made a completet fool of myself, and the result was everyone seeing me. The goofball American exchange student. "Shigatsu de Koto bukatsu o ookii hapyukai o shimashita. Judii wa sugoku Kinchyou shimashita, demo minna wa 'Judii ganbarimashou!' to imashita. Koukou Ninensee to ishoni wa Sakura 21 o hikimashita. Tanoshikata desu yo." [In April, the Koto club had a huge concert. I was so nervous, but everyone kept saying, "Let's just do out best!" The High School 2nd graders and I played Sakura 21, the song. It was so exciting.] "Minna, anata tachi wa mainichi wa bai bai to sayonara to imasu. demo bai bai to sayonara wa sugoku muzukashi tango desu. kono supichi wa watchsi no saigou no bai bai." [You all say bye and 'formal' bye everyday. But these words are very difficult. This speech is my last goodbye." The girls who had been laughing had suddenly become quiet at these words. Eyes were starting to get watery. "Anata tachi no goshinsetsu ishou wasaremasen." [I will never forget all of your warm kindness] Then I pulled the red heart out of my shirt and faced it to the crowds, which began cooing. "Kokoro kara oreo moshi agemasu!" [Thank you from the botton of my heart ((the politest way to say thank you, used by Samurai towards their keepers.))] I beated the beart against my chest twice, and made a polite thank you quote cute. Then I bowed for 3 seconds before facing the crowd for a final time. I knew I had just performed the best speech that Tosajoshi had ever seen. The girls, who had been not to clap until asked to do so, were hammering ut the loudest of applause and pushing aside their tears. Not one gilr was in a coma, but everyone was alive and proud of me. Even perhaps more proud of me, than I was. I had done it. I had delivered the perfect speech to help them all remember me for the rest of their lives. Because I know I soon won't forget them. The applause continued, with the strong sounds from the principal, breaking his own rule of not clapping until asked to do so. My homeroom was on the second balcony standing up for me, shouting and whipping away their tears at the same time. I stood, looking out at my life, in 2,000 girls dressed in Sailor uniforms and said goodbye quietly. These girls who, maybe not knowing it, changed me in a million ways. I was once scared and would have refused to do a speech in front of 2,000 girls in a different language, now I relished the chance. But that isn';t a quarter of what these girls have goven me. No these girls have showed me how to be me. And that I think is the best thing in the world. I didn't need to cry, I skipped the tears, but I went out in style. Like a lion. I was the month of March flipped inside out. FInally the Gym teacher ordered the girls to sit down and stop clapping, and then ushered me off the stage. Back at my seat, I gathered my belongings and walked off the stage. As I walked along, the girls ignoring the cranky Gym teacher continued with their clapping until I reached my seat among my fellow students. Still feeling like the luckiest person in the world, I sang the words to the TOsajoshi school song, for that final time. And when it was finished, Matsuoka-sensei had picked up my stuff and began pulling me towards my homeroom. In the seat with my name in it, back with my classmates, the only place that at the moment in time, I truly belonged. The principal, retook his microphone, and instead of putting the girls back in the coma, the first thing he said was, "there goes the best exchange student I have heard of." Back in my seat, surrounded by puffy cheeked Fukumoto-home girls, I got a few pats on the back. Nothing special because the strict teachers had taken the speech and began heckling the girls about the rules of summer vacation. I won't go into those, because Americans will think it is against the laws of freedom and normalcy. Instead of listening, I just sat and felt happy I was done with it all. And when the speech was all finished, the girls began to file out and to the classrooms. Chiake and I walked back, again in silence. Only this time it was her who needed it. She had cried so hard during my speech, and was fighting very hard to keep it all in. Meanwhile, girls who I had never seen or met before were coming up to me and congratulating me. And as soon as I was finished answering, the word Kawaii was thrown around. Some things will nevber really change. Back in the homeroom, Fukumoto-sensei took attendance and handed out a few papers for the summer holidays. She didn't really scknowledge me too much until just before the bell rang, when she asked me to come with her and speak about the speech. I somewhat suspected her to heckle me about the slight grammatical errors because she is a Japanese teacher. Instead, in the stair case on the third floor she congratulated me on the best speech she had ever seen. She has been here for 10 years, and seen over 15 students. She told me that even the Australian girls who had studied the language for years before coming here and becoming fluent, had not had a speech so personal and brilliant. Plus everyone of those girls had used a piece of paper. I told her that none of the teachers told me about the speech, so I thought I had to memorize it. She told me that I left a better impression because of it. She went on to say that the school has probably never had a student, Gaijin or Japanese to be able to get on stage, wearing a Kamekaze band, and making a fool of herself. And that I would never ever be forgotten. It was the only thing I really wanted to hear. Together, we headed back to the classroom. The bell had just recetnly rung, and since cleaning already took place, I expected the classroom to be somewhat empty. Instead, as I rolled open the sliding doors and stepped into the classroom, a burst of colorful streamers blasted me, and the warmest cheers and applause gently eased me back into the room. Everyone of my fellow 42 girls had stayed behind. All that bottled up sadness that I kept in from the speech, suddenly was let go, and I burst into bog fat drops of tears, as the girls surrounded me and gave me the biggest hug I could have ever asked for. My camera was whipped out of the bag, by Chiake, and in useage even before I could tell what was going on. Ri-chan, Nanae, Usami, and Chika had collected all the colorful streamers and were throwing them on my head. Some other girls stood by the other desks and began pouring juice into 43 cups, which I didn't understand. The rest gathered around crying old me, and continued cheering about my speech and most importantly the greatest year of my life. Soon everyone grabbed a cup, I grabbed a cup with Mikan juice (the Japanese attempt at Orange juice) Haruka and Mego began speaking and listing all of the wonderful things to happen while a member of this class. Then we all lifted our sups into the air and yelled, "Kampai!" Cheers to Julie. In front of the room, I stood, covered in colorful streamers, and surrounded by 41 other students, my best friends as they formed a large cirlce arm in arm. Then they beagn singing a famous song in japanese, sung when thanking someone for something. They were thanking me for giving them a good time. But it was I who was even more thankful. When they were finsihed, Fukumoto-sensei ushered me to give a big speech. Even though I was ready and prepared, one look and CHiake, and I lost it. She and I were soon in a huge hug, crying our eyes out. Two best friends on the last day of school...ever. My classmates then gave me some presents. Two thick cardboard notes with written thank yous. One note was from girls all around the school, while the other was Fukumoto-home only. WIth it I was given a bouquet of flowers, and a Hanco. I think, honestly, the Hanco was the most special present I could have received all day. A Hanco is a merely a stamp, with the name of the person. I already have one in Katakana saying Julianne. But this Hanco was glass with the Kanji name, 樹梨 I think I mentioned once that it would be cool to get one, though it is probably impossible to find out with those particular Kanji. I couldn't believe the girls went out and looked for a person to make one for me. Little things like this is what truly makes you realize how great you are loved. Unfortunately, like everything in this life, all good things had to end. Much of the class had clubs to run off to, and I was expected at the Masaki's. We took one final picture, everyone in the class. And when I look at it, I see only Japanese school girls. It has taken me a full year, but after today, I think I convinced everyone of that same fact. When I walked out of the school, for that last time, I was truly out like a lion. I was strong, determined, but most importantly loved and unforgettable. And now, I am no longer a Japanese student.

New Jersey Meets Shikoku Pt. 5: The Farewell Party

That night, after we rocketed off Fireworks on the fourth of July in Kochi, I thought for sure would be the last time I saw the New Jersey Short Stay students here in Japan. Yet, every time I seem to be positive on something, something else comes along and completely askew the whole theory. Thus, July 17th, after I finished my tenure as a Tosajoshi student, I was invited to Tokushima for the Farewell party of the students. Last week, Osaki Okasan texted me and asked if I would be going to the party. All the host families in Kochi had been invited, and if enough people could go, then a Taxi would be rented. Osaki Okasan knew that I had done even more than the host families with the Short Stay students while they were in Kochi, and it was the only right thing to do to make sure I at least know about it. As usual, I had no idea, but I wanted to go REALLY badly. You see, even though I had not seen the students in under 2 weeks, I had still been emailing Robbie and Rob everyday. I was given a peek into everything they were doing and what was going on. It made me really happy, because I had such a great time with the group. That and there was there were certainly a few people that I wanted to see ;) So I emailed Captain Jack, chairmen of the committee, about it in an instant. He told me that he, Nishiyama-san, and Sensou-san would be driving out to Tokushima to attend the party, and then driving back right after it. In all of the ballsy things I have done this year, asking if I could come too, was only a slight matter. But I was relived when he replied that I would be more than welcome to come. And it also gave him an idea. He thought it would be cool if he and I went dressed in Yukata. I jumped on the idea as well, because I just bought the prettiest Yukata and have been dying to wear it. After my last day of school, I lugged all my 3 huge bags on to the bike and biked to the Masaki Pharmacy. I walked through the door, probably resembling a Bag man, and was warmly greeted my first and best host family. Captain Jack didn't even give me a minute to put down my stuff, when he decided to treat me to a Hakobe lunch of Okonimiacki. At the restaurant, I talked the poor guys ears off. I told him all about my happenings at school. Mostly about how hard it was to say goodbye. After we ate our delicious meals, we headed back to the pharmacy to get ready. Upstairs in the apartment, Obachan opened my new Yukata, admiring it while trying to determine how best to get it on me. We have done this Yukata putting on thing before, back in August, and it was not pretty. But I have grown up, and realize that they are supposed to be tight. She scurried around and put it on me, and I looked absolutely gorgeous. Captain Jack also put on a Yukata, though he looked slightly less pretty. I also took out my new Geta shoes, which are the most uncomfortable things in the world, and perfect to wear with Yukata. The Masaki's also presented me with a present. An old style Japanese red umbrella, often seen in pictures with Maiko and Geisha. If I wasn't white, blue eyed, tall, I would have looked like the most traditional Japanese person in the whole house. Captain Jack and I took a few pictures, and then decided that we had best be going. Nishiyama-san pulled up his van in front of the pharmacy, and then we were off. Before the journey could really start, though, we had to pick us Sensou-san. Then, in the words of Captain Jack, we were the Fantastic 4. I guess this would make me Jessica Alba, which I suppose isn't a bad thing to be. The entire ride was probably the the craziest time I have ever had. Seriously. Being in a car with 3 men over the ages of 50, making dirty jokes in Japanese is just bound to do that to you. Nishiyama-san and Sensou-san didn't think I could understand some of the things they were laughing about, but Captain Jack knew why I was pinching myself and trying to suppress the painful laughter. Every so often, a silence would come upon the car, which by the end of the ride, the men would soon fear. In this time, I would start talking and just keep talking. I think I must have told them all about my last few days of school, Class Matches, my great friendship with Chiake, about a certain boy who I was looking forward to seeing tonight (which certainly made Captain Jack angry. Now I know why Naoko waited 3 years to tell him about her boyfriend) There was also the comedy team of Captain Jack and I. What happens if he usually starts out making fun of me in some way, and I fire back at him. Sensou-san forced Nishiyama-san to stop at a rest stop for a bathroom after listening to Captain Jack and my theory of weight. He still calls me a fat gaijin, even though I'm a normal weight. And I fire back that he's short and fat for the average Japanese person, at least I'm normal for the Americans. The men also told me about the funny stereotypes of Shikoku people. In Kanji, SHikoku means 4 countries, Kagawa, Kochi, Ehime, and TOkushima. People from Kochi are the poorest and thus the most down to earth and happiest, even though they don't have two nickles to rub together. Ehime folk are very cold, and think they are better than the rest of Shikoku. Kagawa people are kind if just there. And Tokushima people are the second poorest, but they don't want to be like Kochi, so they are also the cheapest people in Japan. When we ride into Tokushima, at another rest stop, I saw a Tokushima license plate. SO in Japanese I screamed to Captain Jack, "Hey look it's a Tokushima person. They must be REALLY cheap!" Nishiyama-san and Sensou-san couldn't stop laughing, as Captain Jack looked absolutely mortified. He told the others about the time, when I told him the English name for the sea between Shikoku and Honshu, the Inland Sea. He heard Inran Shi. Inran in Japanese is a lecher, or a man who dreams about sex all day long. And Shi is dead. So every time I would say Inland Sea, he thought I was calling him a Dead Pervert. And yes, this is the Madness of Mr. Masaki. At one rest stop in the middle of nowhere, I got out in my Yukata, and made a group of Japanese Obachan stumble on a curb from staring at me. Gaijin in a Japanese Yukata, speaking Japanese is like one of those things that you always hoped to see but never will on Shikoku. Captain Jack is now thinking of opening up a freak show, "Come see the amazing fat gaijin who looks like Anpanman with chubby cheeks, speaks Japanese, and wears Japanese things." He reckons we could be rich. Eventually we did arrive in Tokushima, which actually was quite sad, as I was having a brilliant time with the Fantastic 4. The hotel, the Tokushima Prince hotel, warmly greeted us, after they did quite a few double takes at Captain Jack and I. Inside the hotel, we ran into Mary and a few other students almost immediately. I erupted in excitement, as Captain Jack gave me the key and we headed up to the 12th floor. On that floor, I ran into Sam and Austin, who were generally happy to see me. I threw everything in my room, and gathered my camera and a few necessities into the bag I sewed in class for Yukata wearing. Then, with Captain jack, I went downstairs to the party. I had known for a while I would be coming to the party, but I only told one student in Japanese that I would come. Of course this happened to be Rob, who could read a little Japanese. Other than him, no one knew I was coming. So seeing me coming through the door, especially Yukata clad, was quite a shock for some people. I greeted everyone but looked for the one person I really wanted to see, Robbie, who was on the piano. In the meantime, I talked with Sam, Rob, Jody, Austen, Drew, and a few others and quickly caught up. I heard about what prefecture they like the best and how they spent their days. I also found that my seat was to be changed so that I could sit with Captain Jack. Soon we had to break up the chats to sit down as the banquet began. As I suspected, it was going to be LONG and BORING. The governors and every other single Rotarian came on and did a speech in Japanese. This time, though, the translator was perfect and did a great job with the translations. So that, there was no rudeness. It didn't make up for the fact, that it was incredibly boring. Bary Goodman, leader of the Short Stay students did a thank you speech. Following this, the rest of the students got up on stage and did a friendly introduction. Then they introduced the host families and the other Rotarian's involved in the home stays. They even called my name, so I stood up and bowed. Captain Jack, however, added his own decoration, with the umbrella gift, which caused everyone to let out a much needed laugh. The speeches would have gone on and on, but the first course of the 10 trillion course dinner was served. It was some interestingly suspicious looking fish, that I found out after I ate it, was probably still alive. Then I got up and went to talk with Jody and Drew, until the next course. Back at the table, I swallowed the Chinese soup down quickly, which made me feel really hot. Then the Salmon was brought out, which was Delicious. Followed what appeared to be chicken, though I wouldn't touch it because Captain Jack thought it looked a bit shady. Next we had Soumen, or cold Noodles, which I inhaled. I was full, even though the portions were smaller than I'm letting on. The next curse was Sushi, but I couldn't eat it because it was covered in Wasabi. During this time, I impressed everyone at our table with my Japanese skills. No one believed I could speak Japanese, until I began randomly spewing facts about why Kochi is much better than TOkushima. I spoke in Tosa Ben, the hick language only spoken in Kochi, and had the men choking on their 10 dishes. It's interesting because I find myself spending alot of time with uptight old wealthy Japanese Rotarian men, and getting them to crack up more times than they probably have in their lives. I would never have thought it would be so easy to just talk to these guys with no problem. And you know? It has alot of benefits, as well. One man in particular was intrigued with my attempt at the Japanese language, he asked for my business card and web page, because Captain Jack was bragging about me. My business card now has my name written in Japanese Kanji. When the man saw this, he smiled and asked me if I had gotten the Kanji written on a shirt or something for memory. I told him I hadn't because Japanese shirts are always written in English. He smiled and told me that he owned a website that made Tee-shirt prints, and would be more than happy to print my name in Japanese Kanji on a Tee-shirt and sent it to me. I thanked him with all my heart, and excited accepted his offer. After the meal was finished, I got up to talk to some of the students. One boy was holding a paper and asked if I had any talent I wanted to perform on stage for the show. Only two people had signed up to do anything, and the rest were far to shy. I had a brilliant idea, and I signed my name with Captain Jack. For the mini talent show, Robbie played the piano. He was brilliant, especially with his own song that he wrote. I really wanted to listen, but the Rotarians, who at this point had had too much to drink, needed to be tended to. Captain Jack hates drinking, and in all of my time knowing him, I have never seen him drunk. But on this night, he was really really drunk, and getting even more wasted the more I watched him. He had taken care of me for all this time, I kind if felt like I should repay the favor. So when he got especially loud and obnoxious, I did my best to keep him quiet. Although, I'm not complaining, if he wasn't drunk he wouldn't have done so well on our act, which was next. Together we climbed up on stage, holding the umbrella over our heads and sang and danced to a rousing rendition of Row Your Boat, Prior to the performance we worked out a superb dancing routine, to go with the words. I was worried that Captain Jack might falter but instead he took the mic from me. He sang the Merrily Merrily Life is But A Dream part in Opera that would envy even famous Opera men. After we sang a brilliant 2 verses of the song, he attempted to go for a third, but I had to save him from the embarrassment. No one can really deny that it was the most hilariously stupid performance of the night. And it was great. Drew, Rob, and Alex made a music video, which was next. They played it on the overhead, and it merited alot of applause. It was really impressive, even though the music wasn't catered to a Japanese taste. When it was over, Captain Jack, clapped and cheered the loudest, then poured himself another full glass of Sake. The next portion of the party, was to be the famous Tokushima Awa-Odori. In Kochi, we have the great Yosakoi festival, which was founded to be a more exciting and fast paced version of the Awa-Odori. Today the Tokushima and Kochi people still get into fights over which is better. Obviously, Yosakoi is, but whatever. haha. Awa Odori is popularly believed to have begun in 1587. Lord Hachisuka Iemasa, the daimyo of Awa Province, or modern day Tokushima, hosted a drunken celebration of the opening of Tokushima Castle. The locals, having consumed a great amount of sake, began to drunkenly weave and stumble back and forth. Others picked up commonly available musical instruments and began to play a simple, rhythmic song, to which the revelers invented lyrics, alternately praising Lord Hachisuka and encouraging others to join the dance. The dancers dance and walk while they follow an accompaniment such as shamisen, drum, brass, and flute. Dancers wear regional costumes and often sing while dancing. The dance troupe sings "Ya-to-sa" as they dance through the city streets. The lyrics to the Awa Dance festival song include the phrase "the dancing fool and the watching fool are both fools, so let's dance!" The most famous Awa-Odori team in Tokushima, filed in dancing and swinging along. When they were finished, they called up the SHort Stay students, though Captain Jack told me I couldn't go up, and showed them some dance moves. Then everyone, including the 60 or so dancers formed a single file line and weaved in and out of the tables. Though I was supposed to sit and watch, I continued to dance in my seat, until one fiednly dancer saw me and called me up. She showed the proper hand motions and and feet motions. And soon I was beasting the room. Random people would just stop and watch me. I was actually really good. Captain Jack ran along the tables and took hundreds of pictures of me. While the friendly dancer, after discovering I could speak Japanese, asked me why I was so good. I told her I dance Yosakoi, though that teacher tends to tell me I'm pretty bad. She told me that Awa-Odori is much better, and I stood up for Kochi and told her I liked Yosakoi better. She laughed and told me that it was the only thing she expected coming from someone from Kochi. Aw... I come from Kochi. When the song was finished we continuted dancing on stage, until the governor asked us to sit down so that the dancers could perform their own dance. I watched and took plenty of pictures of the 60 professional Awa-Odori dancers as they skirmed along and performed their dance. I was amazed at one particular Genki old guy. He was literally doing splits in mid-air and showing up the little 10 year old girls in the front of the line. The leader revealed he was 70 years old. I was shocked. When everything was finished, the party was over. I hung around and waited with my friends to decide what we ought to do. Captain Jack waited for me, though he was so drunk he might have thought he was waiting for the New Year. In this time, one girl told me all about the trouble I had caused betweent two boys. One of these boys, ROb, came up to me and was incredibly drunk and gave me a really weird hug. It made me uncomfortable, and it pissed off Captain Jack. After that awkwardness, he and I returned upstairs. In the elvator, I asked him if I had any rules, and he asked me what I was talking about. I took that as a No. In my room, I quickly changed and folded up my Yukata. When U was done I met Sam and Austin on the 11th floor, with Erin, Veronica, Hershed, Luke, Jody, Drew, and Robbie. EVen though Captain Jack didn;t give me any rules, I was a bit nervous when he stumbled out of his room. Instead he handed me a bag of trests, Squid Bisquits, Seaweed wrapped rice treats, and Okonomiacki flavored cookies and told me to enjoy, THen he headed upstairs to the closest bar. The group all left the hotel for a little night stroll. It felt so good to be out at night walking with people who spoke my language and where a bit less childlike than my Japanese friends. The hotel was conveniently located on the water, so we all walked along the boats and the ocean. We stuck together until we reached a Convenience store. Then the groups broke up, until it was me and Veronica with RObbie and Hershed. The four of us walked and talked until midnight. We ran across bridges, jumped in and out of playgrounds, had girls talks and boy talks, and pretended we didn't actually know what was going on. What was going on meaning, I had heard things from everyone the trip but Robbie, and I wanted to see if it was true, that he might like me. For as many opportunities as I gave him, he didn't seem to say anything, so I dropped it. I was too much enjoying the night with the other 3 that nothing was going to bother me. Nearing 12, and they wanted to head back to the hotel, though I could have stayed out exploring all night. On our way back, we sang Disney songs, got lost, forced Hershed to carry the Squid Bisquits, which no one ended up eating, and laughed til we cried. Back in the hotel, no one was much suprised to find out that most of the group who had stayed behind had patied a little too much. I watched as the youngest in the group, Jody, also the most mother like, Becky, and a few other, ran around and made sure the partiers were okay. The other kids, like my group, all did other things. HErshed, RObbie, Veronica and I hung out in my room and tried to put together a beastly puzzle. Sam, Austin, Mary, and JEnnifer hung in their darkened room and talked. Eventually the groups all merged, and we hung out enjoying sobriety. In Veronica's room we watched sme really bad Japanese television, and tried to stay awake. One by one the group members made their returns into their rooms. It was then just me, RObbie, Veronica, and BEcky, who had returned with funny stories about the party people. Finally everyone was too tired to do anything but go to bed. I walked with Robbie back up to his room, giving him one more chance to say something. I kind if just got a hug and a good night. Veronica and I returned to my room, and I sat there wondering if the stores people had said were not true or if Robbie was just shy. And in a crazy impulse, I found myself knocking on his door at 3:30 in the morning. I made him tell me the truth, then we talked till 5, when I had to be ready to leave. I had just had the greatest night ever. And I don't think something like this would have ever happened if I hadn't come here.

Night At the Matsuri

In the middle of Kochi City, there is a huge arcade type shopping mall called, "Obiyamachi." I have talked about it before because it has been in alot of my adventures here in Kochi. The large arcade is a walking strip filled with everything you can imagine. Clothes stores, books stores, food, a department store, various shoe places, and much much more. The thing about Obiyamachi is that it's a very centralized place, in that it sort of makes the heart of Kochi City. That being said, on Saturdays in the month of July and once in August, the large shopping center hosts a few Matsuri's. A Matsuri is, in English, something like a festival. Japanese matsuri are chiefly of sacred origin, related, at least originally, to the cultivation of rice and the spiritual well-being of local communities. By the Heian period these native festivals had been supplemented by the various rites and ceremonies. These various new rites, both sacred and profane, had been imported from China along with Buddhism and Confucianism. In the course of the centuries these observances have thus undergone considerable change, many old practices being cast off and new ones added – political, religious, agricultural and commercial. There has also arisen a new variety of matsuri, such as the Obiyamachi Doichi Noichi Matsuri. A matsuri is basically a symbolic act whereby participants enter a state of active communication with the gods. It is accompanied by communion among the participants in the form of feast and festival. The latter are sometimes large festivals that attract audiences from outside the community. And with the introduction to Japan of foreign beliefs such as Buddhism and Taoism, and the establishment of types of Shinto influenced by these foreign beliefs, the matsuri turned to new purposes. As the years passed, matsuri in a broad sense came to include festivals in which the playful element and commercial interests all but obliterated the original sacramental context. The matsuri has two major aspects. The first is communion between gods and people. This comprises purificatory rites, offerings and communal banquets between gods and humans. This first aspect may be termed a religious rite. This is the reason why most people come out for a Matsuri, but it is certainly not the reason why they stay out at one. The second aspect of matsuri is communion among people. Many Japanese festivals feature a parade of Mikoshi, or portable shrines, and contests or games that give opportunities for community members to play together and match skills. The regulations of everyday life are relaxed and the atmosphere is one of spiritual renewal. One can always find in the vicinity of a matsuri booths selling souvenirs and food such as takoyaki, tempura, Yaki Soba, Ice Cream, and much more, and games, such as snatching goldfish with paper wands. Karaoke contests, sumo matches, and other forms of entertainment are often organized in conjunction with matsuri. But, perhaps, the most exciting part is that everyone dresses up in Yakata and celebrates with beautiful clothes. The Obiyamachi Matsuri, like all Matsuri's, reflects a little bit on the people living in the area. It is not a huge Matsuri dedicated to the God's, but instead one dedicatd to the enjoyment of the people. Thus, on my last day of school, I finalized plans with Usami, Chika, Asaka, Aya, and whoever was able to make it to Matsuri for hanging out. It was agreed we would all meet at 5, so prior to that time, I put on my best Yukata, or summer Kimono. It was the first time I did it all by myself. My host Mother and sister came home early and flourished me in compliments about how skilled I am in being able to do it all by myself. Kind of like a little kid when they first use the 'big potty.' They then preceded to pull it off and correct every little bend and mistake, though all the while ensuring me that I had done a good job. I had planned on taking the bus to Obiyamachi, but my host father insisted we drive. He and Michiyo dropped me off 20 minutes earlier than the agreed meeting time. So I waited and received more stares in 20 minutes than I have had in my entire time here in Japan. It is said that Japanese men love woman in Yukata or Kimono. Mostly this just means that woman can't walk Yukata-clad in an area with a lot of bars. But it also means that you should never be alone in Yukata. As for me? Well once the Japanese men saw that I was their height and not part of their species, they certainly did not want anything to do with me. But that didn't stop them from staring. Alot. On the cell phone email, I discovered that addition to my long wait, my friends were going to be late. But I got lucky, because almost as soon as this happened, CHiake, Yukimi, and Taco departed Tosajoshi and were heading my way. They had just finished club, and wanted to see the fancy dressed girl in the Matsuri. They looked at me, but had no idea they were looking at their best Gaijin friend. Until I said, "Hey idiots! It's Julie." I thought Chiake was going to fall off her bike, while Taco gasped at me. Yukimi was the only one who came running up to me and giving me a huge hug while exclaiming how beautiful I look. I hung out with the 3, until we were met up by Ri-chan, who was returning home from extra classes. Though Chiake and Taco had to get home early, Ri-chan, Yukimi, and I walked throughout the mall together. I was disappointed because there were so few movable stores to buy things and play games. We went to the cell phone company booth, and met up with a large group of Tosajoshi girls, who nearly fainted at the sight of me. It was horrible. They then preceded to whip out their cell phones and take hundreds of pictures of me. I'm beginning to think that if I start charging people to take my picture, I might return to America and be able to New Jersey. Around this time, Usami emailed me and told me that she had arrived. Ri-chan, Yukimi, and I set off to meet her. I was so relieved to see her in Yukata, so that I wouldn't be the only person to dress up like this way. The 4 of us decided to get a Purikura before the rest of the group would meet up with us. When we were finished, Aya, Chika, and Asako seemed to come out of nowhere. Chika was dressed in a casual boyish Yukata, while the other two were in regular street clothes. Usami and I felt so stupid, but no one could deny that we looked absolutely gorgeous. Even though o most Matsuri's, one is supposed to dress in Yukata, Obiyamachi contained very few Yukata-clad girls. So Usami and I got alot of attention. I should probably tell the truth, though. It was I who got all the attention. Since there are so few gaijin in Kochi as it is, and seeing one dressed in Yukata is extremely rare, and probably never happened during this year. Little kids would see me and drop their ice cream comes while screaming for their Mom to look. Old woman on their bikes would ride by, see me, and then send their bikes into a dangerous braking to get a better look. School girls harassed me with that word, Kawaii. While school boys stared at me like I was Santa Clause at a Bar Mitzfah. The staring doesn't usually bother me too much, but tonight, it was horrible! The first thing we did was get food at the Central park. Everyone ordered large Steak on a Stick, Yaki-Soba, or Corn Dogs. I wasn't in the mood for hot foods, and decided to wait till we ran into something cold. Sure enough, as a rule with Japanese students, we paid a trip to McDonald's. I got a small Strawberry McFlurry to eat, while we walked throughout the mall. There really wasn't anything to do, so we sat down and in the central park and talked for what felt like hours. It's sad to think that I finally get to the point where I can understand almost everything they understand, and I have to leave in a few days time. We were all thinking about August 13th, even if only subconsciously. Even the meantime, the girls got more and more food, while I watched and wondered why the Japanese are so thin. I then took out the Beast, my camera, and snapped a bunch of shots. The air was cool and smelled of roasting Yaki Soba, while I laughed and enjoyed the final days of the best year of my life in the presence of friends. A dance contest had begun, and Chika, Aya, and Asako went off to watch it. Usami, Yukimi, and I went to check out the times for the bus back to Mama, my host town. Usami and I would be taking the bus back together, much to the relief of both of our parents. The 3 of us strolled through Kochi City, harrassing some stupid Japanese boys who were afraid to talk to two Yukata-clad girls. Back at the park, we watched as one of the upcoming Yosakoi teams eagerly showed us their dance, which blew my team right out of the water. Then the group headed to a large arcade close to the exit. Chika had one some free money prizes, and we all decided to spend what she had. One of the new popular games here in Japan, is where you have to throw balls at the glass and make things happen. Like you have to throw balls and knock the bugs out of the way for the elephant to climb up the tree. Okay so I know that doesn't sound very interesting, but it came from the same country of DDR, Karaoke, and Purikura, so trust me, it's awesome. The 6 girls all played the game, and beasted at it. But it doesn't suprise me because I know how Japanese girls get when they get competitive. Even though the 6 of us, 2 girls in Yukata, 2 fatties, and 2 shorties, did not look like we could even turn the game on so much as win, we ended up dominating. Random people came up just to watch us, and then make remarks like, "Yep those are Tosajoshi girls." At 9, Usami and I had to get going to the bus stop. I would have liked to stay out for another hour, but it was the last bus of the night. Saying goodbye is getting really hard, because one never knows if it is the last time. But with these crazy girl, I really don't think it is. We all exchanged emails and are planning on meeting up again really soon.

Livin it Up With the Katou's

Since May 20th, I have lived with my 4th and final host family, the Katou's. I realize I haven't said much about them in these journal entries, though I can't explain why. I love this family a whole lot. In fact, even though I hate to do host family comparing, since each family has taught me something and can not be compared fairly, the Katou's are definitely my 2nd favorite family. The Katou's live in a small old style Japanese house in the town of Mama, a 20 minute bike ride from Tosajoshi. The neighborhood is small, and the houses are pretty much all on top of each other. We discover this simple fact everyday, when at exactly 9:20 each night, the next door neighbor baby lets out a horrific shriek that goes on for at least 10 minutes. The house is also right close to the mountains and quite wet. Thus there are ALOT of bugs. It's not as though the family is dirty, but the house is crawling with spiders and cockroaches. When they see a spider, they just tend to pretend it isn't these. But when the cockroaches come to play, my host Mom turns into a Kamekaze pilot waging World War III in her own home. The Katou family is quite an unusual Japanese family, in that they have 4 kids. The oldest, Yuki, is 30 years-old, married, and has two sons of her own. Then there is 27 year-old Michiyo, who is trying very hard to become a lawyer, and is also the closest to me in the family. Next comes 20 year-old Maimiko, a student at a Kyoto University, who I haven't actually met yet. She was a Tosajoshi student, and I find myself borrowing her uniforms and shoes on occasion. And last but not least, is the High School senior Toshiki, the only boy in the whole family. He is actually really quite cute, but he is so quiet and so shy, that I often think he doesn't like me. And of course these is Otosan, a public Surveyor, and probably one of the most interesting people I have ever met. According to my first host father, Captain Jack, Katou Otosan looks like Steven Segal, drinks like it's New Year everyday, and eats like a fat American. Like my most Japanese men, he is a little shy when it comes to a 16 year old Gaijin girl, such as myself. But when he gets drunk, it's AWESOME. He can't speak English for rice when he is sober, but when he isn't he suddenly starts speaking the funniest English I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. Once, he got so drunk, that I forced him to sing a rousing rendition of Pepper Keibu with me in front of all his sober Rotary buddies. The poor guy has yet to live it down. But probably my favorite in the house, is Katou Okasan. She is really honest with me. She tells me when I'm having a sucky Japanese day, and when I'm having a good one. She laughs at my terrible jokes, and cooks a mean Curry rice. She also gives me as much independent as I could ask for, so long as I always have my cell phone at hand. Life with the Katou's has been much easier than I would have suspected, or even hoped. On those final days with the Osaki's, I was dreading moving. It was the first time, I REALLY did not want to move at all. I didn't want to move even more so than when the ending came of my life with the first host family, the Masaki's, also the favorite family hands down. Back then, I wanted to get a taste for Japanese culture. I figured that with each new family, I would get a new and wonderful experience, much like what I had at the Masaki's. After all if I had had such a wonderful time on my first family, surely all the families would be like that. Wrong. I'm not going to get into it. But I didn't have a good experience with the second family. However, I really liked the life I had living with the Osaki's, my third family. I didn't want to leave that lifestyle, at the end of 3 months, because I always knew things with the next family could turn out to be like the experience with the 2nd family. Fortunately, things are great. What I have discovered is that, much like living with the Masaki's, I'm the baby of the family. And being the baby of the family is the best part. I'm a very Genki person. I use the word Genki because English doesn't quite have such a wonderful word. Genki in easiest terms to understand is a mixture of healthy, energetic, and peppy. I only started describing myself as Genki, after I heard the Katou's call me it. On the 2nd day of living with the family I went for a bike ride over 55 kilometers long. I didn't tell them what I did, until after I did it, because I wasn't sure how they would react. Sure enough, after the initial reaction of, "Dear god! And you didn't tell us?" they turned into, "What drives that child? She's the most Genki person I have ever met." But it didn't end there. After a particularly long day of doing nothing, or maybe eating a little more than I usually do, I always announce to the family that I'm going for a Run. At night time, my host father gets worried, so he motivates the rest of the family into going for an hour and half walk on the same course I would have used to jog. I once told my host Mom that on August 13th after I left for America, she had to step on the scale. Even she doesn't lose at least 2 kilograms, then I'll be disappointed. She replied that if she doesn't lose at least 10 kilograms, she'll be disappointed. Sometimes, though, I feel like I'm not being the greatest exchange student I could be with the Katou's. I arrived at their house, with 9 months of life in Japan under my belt. I came in here with no expectations, but I had gotten used to doing somethings that couldn't be helped. Like running for instance. Don't get my wrong, the family is very supportive of my hobby. But I think sometimes, they would prefer is I just sat still for a few minutes rather than always having to pedal off or jog off into the day. Another thing is that they are really very interested in me. Okay, so this isn't a problem at all, because I love just talking about myself and other random stuff. But they ask me alot of questions about my life in America. I find myself wanting to talk about the 9 months I have spent here, not before that. This family knows all about my amazing 1st host family, my horrid 2nd experience, and the exciting 3rd lifestyle. They don't mind hearing about my life in Japan, but I'm sure they want to hear more about what it is like in America, as I am an American. Maybe I'm thinking into this a little too much. All 4 Katou kids went to private schools in Kochi City. Yuki, who is not the brightest crayon in the box, went to a Catholic school with easy admission requirements. Afterwards she went to a 1 year college in Nagoya, returned home to work for her father, then got married at a very young age. Her two sons are 5 and 3, and they live only about 10 minutes away from my host house. It's funny to think my host parents are also grandparents, especially when Toshiki is pretty young to be an uncle. Michiyo went to the best school in Kochi, and a top school in all of Japan, Tosa School. Afterwards she went a really prestigious Tokyo University, to study law. She was a student for about 6 years, taking the lawyer test ever year. About 60,000 people take this exam, and less than 2% pass it. Unfortunately she has failed it every year thus far, but I keep encouraging her to beast it next year. Maimiko went to Tosajoshi, while Toshiki is a student at Tosa Juku. Today, Michiyo, Okasan, and I went up to Tosa Juki for a little exploring. I love touring Japanese schools, and Tosa Juku is probably the most unique in all of Kochi. The School itself is located on the top of a steep mountain. Everyday the students drop off their bikes at the bottom of the hill, then get driven up by a bus. The road is steep and and quite scary. I honestly, can't imagine how buses make it up there on days with typhoons. Katou Otosan drive us up to the top, and I kept thinking that it felt like we were going backwards through the course of a crazy roller coaster. When we got to the top, I could have kissed the ground. We unloaded the car and went inside the school, which was quiet because of the classes taking place. Even though the school is technically on Summer Vacation, not one of the students is missing the Summer Special classes. Inside, Otosan went off to his Parents Meeting, while the rest of us asked a teacher to show us around. The teacher, who wanted English practice, which I refused to give him, kept trying to compare me to the former Canadian exchange student, who was fluent. I felt so honored when my host mother told the man that I came here not having studied any Japanese, and am the closest thing to fluent than is possible. The teacher showed us around, first walking through the middle school, where 5 Gaijin Canadian teachers were teaching English conversation. It looked much harder than what I help teach at Tosajoshi. Plus the teachers were very strict looking. The teacher informed me that none of the teachers could speak any Japanese, which was what the school considered to be the best English teach. Throughout our tour, I kept a lookout for Toshiki. I knew he would be mortified to see me skipping down the halls calling for him, but I very badly wanted to do just that. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for Toshiki, I didn't end up seeing him. Because as soon as the bell rang, the teacher had us scurry throughout the school to get back. He knew if I was out in the hallways, the students would go crazy with joy at the random Gaijin who came to visit the school. When we were finished, Okasan called a cab to drive us back. Come August 13th, I know one thing. The Katou's are really going to miss me. In all of my faults, which aren't many, I have become on of the family. Maybe not one of the 4 kids, but much more than just a house guest. I'm definitely like the baby of the family.

Raw Fish in the the Mountains

Things really get weird when your sitting in the middle of a valley surrounded by seemingly endless green mountains, all the while digging into a large pile of raw fish. Not even fresh water fish, either. I really mean like raw Tuna, Octopus, Konita, and Eel, all straight from the Pacific Ocean. To top it all off, is that each piece is as fresh as the next. In fact, the fish were probably caught less than a few hours ago. I occasionally find myself comparing Kochi to Arkansas, just a country like state that's only purpose is to sit in top of Alabama and Missisppi. But Kochi is not like Arkansas, or any other state for that matter. Kochi is a place on to it self. No where in the world can you be deep within the cleanest, greenest, lush, and unspoiled mountains, and then a 10 minute drive later be standing on a beach looking out onto a Sea so clean that it seems like humans have yet to touch it. People make fun of this place for being one of the most country parts of all Japan. I think they are all just jealous. Yesterday morning, I received a knock on my door at 7. "Judii, be ready in 5 minutes we are going to Tengu Kogen!" The miraculous thing is not that I was able to be ready in 5 minutes, it's that I was up and out of bed in 2 minutes. I'm getting really good at this spur of the moment thing that the Katou family excels at. The only problem, was that I had no idea what we were doing, where we were going, and why. My only clue was Tengu Kogen. This is a Japanese name, after all, which is probably my worst subject behind Math. Sometimes on these columns I nickname my friends, like Jack Bauer and Ri-chan. It's notjust for the readers benefit, as I find myself calling these girls by these nicknames sometimes. Like when I went to the festival, the other girl in Yukata, who I finally learned has the name of Usami was called Jack Bauer all night, until she finally turned to me and told me that I had better call her her right name for once. Anyway, I had heard of Tengu Kogen before, but I could not place it with a picture. So as usual, I was off to live the day with no idea what I was doing. In the car, we barely pulled out of the drive way and I was asleep. Before I got to Japan, I could never sleep in a moving vehicle. Now even if I get in the car for 5 minutes, I'm zonked out. But a few minutes into the drive, Michiyo pushed me awake to tell me we had arrived. What a second, I've only been a sleep for a few minutes. Is Tengu Ko-whatever really that close? No. Instead, for breakfast, the family stopped at the brand spanking new Starbucks in Kochi. No normally I can't eat breakfast, but I couldn't resist the Vegetable and Curry Wrap at the Raspberry Tea, in which I ordered and inhaled. And I got a very Westernized meal. Host mom got a Curry Wrap with a Azuki Frappucino, which is bean paste ice cream pretty much. While Toshiki got some sort of Yaki Tamago muffin, and a sandwich filled with something that still had a pulse. In conclusion, Starbucks in Japan, is a LOT more different than the good old America version. But still very tasty, if I do say for myself. Back in the car, I was asleep before we even exited the city. I really need to work on this terrible trait, especially since I have a tendency to drool when my neck flops down. But I had no other choice, my host father was playing the radio which was broadcasting a Japanese baseball game. "Tanaka-san steps to the plate. Bunt. Tamura-san is next. Oh a bunt. Yano-san. Oh gee, I didn't that one coming. Can you believe he bunted? And next is Matsumura-san. Oh this game is really really exciting. Do you believe it? He bunted!" That is what you hear when you listen to a game of Japanese baseball. It's horrible. But it made for good sleep. About an hour into the drive, we arrived at Tatsu-something (Japanese name... forgive me) It was an extremely tiny town, virtually located in the valley of two mountains. The population of the town was something like 6 or 7 thousand, which in Kochi, makes it a big city. The town is apparently very close to the ocean and many of the main ports, so it is famous for having some of the best tasting fish in the whole of Japan. I was skeptical, because I couldn't even see the ocean. But I was told that the ocean was on the other side of those mountains. I replied, so is America. Host Mom, Michiyo, and I went into a famous supermarket, known for selling fresh fish. Now how do I know that? The sign said, "Famous Supermarket for Fresh Fish." Inside, Michiyo and I bought some water bottles for the stay in the mountains, while Host Mom ordered two ginormous platters of raw Shashimi, or raw fish, with every kind of taste you can imagine. We watched as 3 meaty looking Chefs, bent down over the dead fish and began chopping it into little pieces, to be eaten by me. I love Shashimi, so I was very excited watching the fish get axed. After a long wait, we got out food and headed back into the car for a short drive to Tengo Kogen. Not surprising, I fell asleep, but Michiyo later informed me drive alongside a river next to the ocean for a few minutes until we entered a tunnel and were soon back into the Mountains.We made a quick stop at Host Father's mother's house. With pride, Katou Otosan told me the house was built back in the Edo period and is nearly 200 years old. He promised he would give me a tour later when we returned for Linner (lunch/dinner) Michiyo, Toshiki, Otosan Katou, and I loaded back into the car, while Okasan Katou opted to stay behind. She knew we were going to be doing a LONG hike through the mountains. I'm beginning to understand that she avoids exercises at all costs. Or perhaps she thought about the drive to Tengu Kogen. I just wish she would have warned me. In the car, I fought to stay awake, and I engaged Michiyo in conversation. She told me about Tengo Kogen, which is a mountain area with great hiking. It is located on top of a group of mountains, called Shikoku Karusuto. Karusuto is the Katakana English of Crust. This means we were going up into the mountains to see a visible fault line that formed Shikoku. Wonderful. But Michiyo informed me that it had not been active in thousands of years. I told her she didn't know about me luck. Luckily, though, for the entire day, the fault line remained in active. Karma found another way to get me though. The drive up to Tengo Kogen was probably the most cruel and beastly road for anyone. I like to think I have a pretty strong stomach, compared to most Japanese kids who throw up at the sight of a curvy road. But this road was too much. When we reached the top, I literally bent down and kissed the ground. On the top of the mountain we were disappointed to see that it was a really cloudy and foggy day. We really couldn't see anything. Michiyo and I had to go to the bathroom, so we headed into the local hotel, which was packed with tourists. The Shikoku Karusuto area is located on the border of Kochi and Ehime, so there were people from oth prefectures. There was even a line drawn in the hotel that distingusihed the two prefectures. Kind of like the line in Hudson Tunnel that shows you when you leave New Jersey and make your way into New York. Michiyo and I did a little window shopping, while we waited for Toshiki and Otosan to finish up using the bathroom. Then, despite the fog and light rain, we decided to do a long hike. The ending of the trail would be the huge crevice deep within the mountain that was formed by an earthquake. But I wasn't really thinking about the destination, but more the journey. Getting there was far too easy, that any of us anticipated, It took us about 1 hour to climb downhill. We strolled through clean forests filled with bugs, that found my blood to be quite tasty. Toshiki pretty much ran through the entire trail, while Otosan was slow and steady, and Michiyo resembled a woman on canes. I at least stayed a close pace to Toshiki. One thing I really like abut this family, is that they really enjoy these mountain hiking excursions. Perhaps I'm the weird one, but I enjoy going for a long hike, and Shikoku is the best place in Japan for this kind of activity. This is the second time I have tagged along for one of these hiking adventures, and even though it is never very easy, I never end up regretting it. Well sort of. Today's hike was all downhill, and I didn't even coniderwhich way we might return. When we reached the crevice, I was amazed. The same earthquake that formed the island of Shikoku and the very mountain area we were climbing, was started by the very fault line. The crevice must have been half a kilometer deep straight thought the heart of a mountain. Toshiki pretended to push me in, which was a nerve wrecking. We took a few pictures, but looking at the clock, showed that we didn't have really any time to dawdle around. I looked for a new trail that we would take to get back to the car, until Michiyo groaned at the idea that we would be climbing the same trail we had taken to get here. Toshiki was already beginning the ascend, while Otosan was putting on the finishing touches to his Last Will and Rites. Yes it was really that bad. Now I'm a runner, and I like to think of myself as a pretty athletic person. I have great endurance, and I can deal with alot of pain. But I think the only think that got my out of that park alive was idea that raw fish was waiting on the dinner table when I get back. Isn't that weird? Trying to look cool, I hurried up to catch up with TOshiki and tail him as far as my legs would allow it. While Michiyo and Otosan climbed at a pace that would have made the Tortoise proud. Even Toshiki was taking a beating, and we found ourselves closer to Michiyo and Otosan's pace then we would have wanted. When the two caught up to us, we could not mistake the heavy breathing. We made quite a few stops, and made sure Otosan didn't die on us. But I knew he was fine. Because as soon as we began hiking again after a brief stop, he began singing a rendition of his favorite Japanese opera. What is it with Japanese men and singing? I couldn't help but snort in laughter, which threw off my breathing. After about 2 hours, we finally made it. Michiyo was nearly in tears, Toshiki looking slightly tired, and Otosan, who had gone from a lengthy Opera to something of a funeral March, was breathing at an unhealthy pace. My body was fine, but I found myself really thirsty. When Michiyo handed me Bottles Tea, I drank the whole think in one entire gulp. Once everyone had regained some life, we got back into the car. Otosan wanted me to see Shikoku Karusuto, which is a famous landscape now. Cows roam this huge area filled with rocks and the brightest of Sunflowers. The fog had cleared, so I was lucky to be able to a see a god amount of the beauty. It was a really beautiful view, but honestly, no one seemed to care. We were all too tired to thirsty to give it much attention. After a few pictures, we got into the car and headed back to Katou's Otosan's mother's home. The house, 200 years old, is quite astounding. When I entered the building, I felt like I was being transported back into a Japanese family from World War II. On the walls were War medals. There were hundreds of pictures of the emperor and his family, all underneath an ancient Japanese flag with the Sun rays still on it. What topped it was a picture of Katou Otosan's father hung above the family shrine, in his soldier uniform. And when I walked into the room, everyone bowed their heads to the picture. Katou Otosan's mother is 82 years old, but she lives alone in this old house. She is a really strict oldstyle conservative Japanese woman. But don't think she didn't treat me any different because I was an American. In fact, she was probably warmer towards me than to her own grandkids. She smiled and me, with her gold teeth, and Pug-like wrinkles. A woman of this age in America would probably be in a home, back in the States. But this woman was living all by herself in the middle of nowhere, completing the farming work to make a living and to be able to keep her home. Her husband had passed on sometime ago, and even though she had 3 kids, 2 of which were boys and should according to tradition be living with her, she has lived alone. She began speaking to me, but I unfortunatly couldn't understand what she was saying. She was speaking really really thick and non modern Tosa Ben, the language spoken in Kochi back in the days before World War II. The first thing we did was wash off all of our shoes. The trails were covered in mud, and thus our sneakers had picked up almost everything. Then we headed into the main dining room. The room, a seemingly anient Tatemi room with the thick fragrance of the straw substance in Tatemi, was covered in World War II memorial. I felt really awkward sitting there and eventually letting my eyes wander to study the artifacts. But nobody seemed to notice. The sliding doors were opened, reveling a beautiful mountain scene. We were halfway up a mountain and had the view of the valley river and rice paddies burning in the distance, it was more of my favorite views of Shikoku. When everyone was seated, we dug into the huge platter of Raw Fish, Sushi Rice, Tomato's, and Egg. Michiyo actually picked up her plate of Sushi Rice and dumped into her mouth, while Toshiki and Otosan fought for the spoon on their 3rd and 4th helpings. I didn't eat quite as much as everyone, but I still had a bog helping of raw fish smother in Soy Sauce. When I went for seconds of the Sushi Rice, it was all gone. But I still had some raw fish. I sat there at the table filled with a traditional Japanese family, in a room straight out of 1943, piling in Raw Sushi in the middle of the Shikoku mountains. Honestly, I don;t think many people get to say they have had such an experience. When the meal was all finished, time had slipped away from us. Michiyo and I had to get home for Yosakoi practice, much to the horror of our bodies. We said goodbye to Katou Otosan's mother, who waved us all off. Soon we were driving all throughout the roads and out of the mountains. We made a few stops, though. Mostly it was to family members of the Katou's, who had probably never seen a foreigner outside of television. EVery single one was nearly in tears as they bowed to me and called me the most beautiful thing they have ever seen. I got more boxes of Japanese treats in 3 visits, than I did in one whole year. I think, even though I hate being the novelty that host families use to show off, seeing a foreigner in a place like Kochi is good for these people. I represent that there is life outside Shikoku, that there is an entire world out there. And at 16, I have discovered this fact more times than most ever do.

Practice Makes Perfect

Throughout my entire life, I must have heard this line, practice makes perfect, over a million times. I don't know who first said, But I think he or she was definitely on to something. Though I don't believe that in every case, practice makes perfect, especially when considering how often I sing Karaoke and dance at Yosakoi practice, and still suck at each respectively. Since the beginning of summer, I have been giving up hours of my days to practice Koto, and also to dance on the Mama Yosakoi team. I'm beginning to find myself wondering what the meaning of Vacation is to the average Japanese person. Surely it doesn't mean break from the rest of the world. That would be wrong. But enough about that. *********** Since about mid-May, I have been practicing playing my latest song at my club, the Koto Bukatsu. The song is "Yuyake Koyake," and I loathed it when I first received it. So much so, that I didn't go to club as often as I should. It's silly to think that a song could make me skip my favorite activity in all of Japan. And I have come to regret not going, especially now that my days are in the teens and that the song has grown on me. That and the fact that my best friend, and club leader, CHiake, is not shy to make comments like, "You've been working on that song since May, I don't think I have seen someone so slow." To be honest, the reason I hated the song, besides it's slow tempo and seemingly easy chords, was that I couldn't understand what most of it was asking me to do. Even though I always paid the monthly fee to stay in the club, the teachers never really went out of their way to help me. It was no big deal, for me, because I don't really like the teachers anyway. I think they are a little bit on the arrogant side. Finally, though, I asked Chiake for help, and she got the teachers to give me a private lesson. Now the song is the a piece of Chocolate Cake with Vanilla icing and rainbow sprinkles. Though I have mastered it many times over on these summer holidays, it is too late to start a new piece. I asked Chiake if she would have gotten me a new piece had I mastered it earlier, and her answer was No. The people who had selected this song for me, had always had in mind that it would be my final song as a member of the Tosajoshi Koto Club. Summer for me started on July 17th, a Tuesday. I wish I could say Summer vacation started for me on that day as well, but well, that's be a lie. Vacation doesn't exist here. And so on the following Thursday and Friday, I got up bright and early with the sun, threw on my Tosajoshi uniform and biked 20 minutes to school. And when I arrived, I parked my bike in spot number 40, walked across the courtyard, and headed for the shoe cubes. There I pulled off my Black pilgrim shoes and replaced them with my indoor slippers. Teachers and students, dressed in uniform or sports wear, would always pass me and greet me. Finally after an entire year, they have accepted that I am a speaker of the Japanese language. I suppose it really is better late than never. Then I'm off to the third floor, Tea Room, where Chiake, Taco, Yukimi, Yuki, Casami, and Yoko, the Kokou Ninensee classmates, await for me. Though I'm usually late, everyone greets me in the warmest way, with big smiles. Then the Club leader, and my best friend, Chiake manages to find some sort of problem. She is the greatest person one could ever meet, but seriously, when it comes to the well being of HER club, I sometimes think she needs to take a chill pill. After I come in, she barks at me to get ready. I head over to the Koto closet and big the instrument that is in the worst condition possible. I've always been one to cheer for the underdogs. Then I grab a little bag filled with the tuning pieces and head into either the Tea Ceremony room or the Art room, where the less skillful players are practicing. I put on the Tuning pieces and then wait for Chiake to come in and tune my Koto, then I begin to play my song. For me, no matter what kind of a day it is, the first half an hour is always spent getting used to the Koto and remembering the strings. You see there are 13 strings, none of which have little markers that tell you which one is which. Now I have remembered all of them and can play it, but I need to take the time to refresh my brain about where each of the strings is. And after that, I can beast Yuyake Koyake. Since the start of summer vacation, I have gone to 3 practices. I would like to go to more, but the club has the upcoming All Japan Koto tournament so that club for less skillful players, which is me and the entire Middle School, doesn't exist. CHiake and the rest, however, come 6 days a week. They arrive at the school at 7 in the mornings and play the same song til 7 at night. I think the worst part is that it is always the same song over and over again. The song is the one that the club will play for the All Japan tournament. Sometimes what they do is play until the make a mistake, then restart until then can play the entire thing perfect. The problem is that the entire song is about 10 minutes long, and there are about 20 High School club members playing it. And nobody is perfect. So these girls end up playing the first page over and over again, until they decided to pretend they didn't hear that certain mistake they just made. It amazes me, because I have so much trouble playing Yukyake Koyake for 2 and half hours, which is how long my practice exists. Preservernce is beastly. The All Japan tournament is really serious, as I hear about every time I go to practice. Since CHiake is club leader, she is the most horrible thing to talk to when curious about the tournament. She often claims she just doesn;t care how it turns out, but one can easily tell she is lying. Koto is a dying hobby in Japan, and so onyl about 100 school compete in the tournament. According to Chiake, only 50 are worth their weight in gold, while the other 50 are all just beginners to the instrument. Tosajoshi usually lets in the 20's, which in my opinion is funaminal, while at the same time a bot scary. I can't imagine why these girls don't get in the top 10. They are, after all, INCREDIBLE. Sure that may be biased, but seriously I am amazed when I watch how the competitors prepare for the tournament. Chiake tells me that the top school train much harder, and I really can't imagine how much harder school can train for this. But while they train, I still enjoy the days's while practicing Yuyake Koyake in the Art Room. Sometimes the Chu Ichinensee, or first years to the club, come. Even though they entered the club in April, we are playing the same song. CHiake likes to tell me that this should embarrass me, but really I enjoy it. Especially since I am so much better than they are. I sometimes go over and help them. This kind of annoys Chiake, but I like helping the younger students, even though I probably need more help then them. Plus I have made 3 new friends. The Sempie-Kohei system of respect for the elder student almost mandates that Sempie are not really supposed to befriend the Kohei, I get in trouble by my fellow Ko Ninensee. Oh well. My final day will be August 6th, a Monday, approximately one week before I head home. It scares me because this is my life. I know I say that I don't come often to the club, which is the truth, I have come to grow thru the skills I gain in this club. It's like when teachers force the students in their final year of high school to quit the clubs, many students go through periods of depression when they are't able to do the thing that they love. Now I don't reckon I'll go through depression, but I really do love this club and all it stand for with each and every part of my heart. I love the sound a Koto makes when it is freshly tuned, and the feeling my fingers get when they are being squished into the Tsume. But most of all, it's the friends, it's Chiake and Taco, and the 3 new club members. Saying goodbye to the Koto club, actually means forever. ************ Still, there is one more thing that I find myself thinking about quite often. The practice for the Mama team for Yosakoi. Now Mama team is supposed to be a very low level team. After all, there are probably about 100 people on the team, 50 of which are elementary school children. And 1 bog spastic Gaijin. The entire song, which is about 3 minutes and 30 seconds, is really splendid. Its a very traditional Japanese feeling, meets new age faster beat. After about 5 practices, all of the people learned the entire dance to the song. I, unfortunately, missed the last practice, so I didn't get learn the final 30 seconds. I wasn't worried because we still have a whole bunch more practices before the big dance. But I was probably the only one who wasn't worried. The first practice I missed was because I went up into the mountains to have dinner with Craig, Paulka, and Ruth as a bot of a farewell dinner. I asked them if they had ever danced in Yosakoi, and Paula and Craig admitted that they had. About 20 years ago, they danced on the same team. They told me that it was an absolute blast. They had only about 2 practices, and signed up only because they were promised free beer. They both agreed that the Yosakoi of today is totally different. Now it is only about competition, and the teams drill for months prior to the festival. It's no longer all that much fun. Yosakoi is the reason that I stayed in Japan for an entire year. I mean, I would have wanted to stay as long as possible, but having something to look forward to is an extra help. But no one told me that practice was going to be like Boot Camp. For instance, yesterday's practice was purely horrible. I know I'm not going to be a wonderful dancer, and I'm not even trying to be the best. What I am trying to do is be me. I'm trying to be the happy exchange student that I am known for. I want to have as much fun as possible, I'm not going into this dance for competition. And I shouldn't be expected tom because the team is supposedly quite low level. Yesterday, we all performed the entire dance over and over again. My team mates all performed perfectly, yet never cracking a smile. I was always one step behind, but having the time of my life. I love dancing, I'm just horrific at it. When we had our break, I was telling Michiyo that I didn't mind being the worst on the team, so long as I had the most fun. She told me that was the spirit. Then out of nowhere, a short elderly Japanese man came out of nowhere. He took one look and me, and with a face of disgust began talking to Michiyo. The thing I ate most in the world is when the Japanese look at foreigners and automatically assume we can't speak any Japanese. He acted like I was deaf, pointing at me and looking right at me, while not giving me any right to be in his conversation. Perhaps, I should have wished not to have been able to understand. He told Michiyo that I was the worst dancer on the adult side of the team. At least, the worst that he could see, because I am pretty much the tallest dancer. Even though, I no what I am doing, I'm always one step behind everyone else. Then he implored Michiyo to please take the time to teach me and make things perfect, because the team would like to step out of low level this year. At first, I was utterly shocked. Then instead of being upset, I grew angry. I'm soooooo tired of these people. I could have been born and raised in Japan, fluent in the language, and all the jazz, yet their are some people who will never accept me. I realized, when looking around, that most people looked at me, but would never come to talk to me. Everyone believed that when Michiyo and I talked it was in only English. And when I brought this up with Michiyo, she replied, "I know isn't it great? People actually think I'm smart." I reminded her that I was the smart one, speaking Japanese and not English. Then I blew up on her. I don't think I'd ever lost it so bad, nothing had ever made me so upset. This anger was replaced by sadness. The man meant what he said, and when we returned for practice, Michyo made me go with the group of girls who had just joined the team. I couldn;t even practice with them because I was so upset. I just burst into tears, until one of the teachers realized something was wrong. I told her everything that happened. She told me that it was true, that I was occasionally off in the footing, or slower than the other teammates, but it wasn;t such a bad thing. This team is about fun, not competition. She also spread the story to the other teachers, and eventually it got to the man. The man, who was actually just a judge, waited until practice was over. He came over to where Michiyo and I were talking in Japanese, and apologized profusely to Michiyo, still pretending I couldn't speak Japanese. After practice, as Michiyo and I were walking home and talking, I kind of spilled my guts onto her. I told her how much I hated it when the majority of Japanese people assume that Gaijin can't speak Japanese, and how even when I make it clear that I can speak the language, most still refuse to believe it and treat me like a retart. She tried to cover for her people, but I was quick and pissed off. Eventually, I calmed down though. And I told her that I really didn't think I was all that bad. She agreed, but made me promise to practice with the DVD training tapes we just bought. As we continued to go on, she told me that I shouldn't worry either because the team would probably put me down as the team Handicap. I didn't think my self-esteem could get anymore smashed, but I was obviously wrong. She explained that teams were allowed to put down a few dancers as Handicaps. Usually these people are those with disabilities, but being a Gaijin counts. Even though being a Handicap is probably one of the most offensive things I can think of, nothing could hurt me anymore. My self-esteem had already been flushed down the toilet. The moral of the story: practice makes perfect. And of not, they'll just make you a handicap.

Naoko's Return

Over last weekend, I received an email from Captain Jack Sparrow, or Otosan Masaki. He invited me to have dinner with him and the rest of Masaki's as sort of a party for the return of Naoko. Naoko is my unofficial big sister, 23 years old, Kobe University student. I couldn't imagine why she was coming home to Kochi, as her testing was going to start on Thursday. But none the less, I would never miss the opportunity to spend some good old quality time with Naoko. With the permission of my host family, I replied that I would be able to go. So on Tuesday, after I helped my current big sister, Michiyo, create a website for the family business, I headed over to the Masaki family pharmacy. Though I was sidetracked by my love of shopping, and arrived late, I was not surprised to find Naoko asleep. I had not seen my big sister since last April, when she, Captain Jack, Okasan Masaki, and I headed by train from Osaka to Kyoto to mean my mother and Nana. So I darted up to the third floor apartment and jumped on a snoring Naoko. I think this was the reason she was annoyed with me for the first part of the night. After a few moments of catching up, Okasan Masaki asked us to help her go and buyb the food supplies. We would be chowing down on Takoyaki and Okonomiacki, 2 party foods here in Japan. On the 10 minutes walk to the local Ace 1, Naoko told me all about her and her boyfriend, her friends, the tests, and the upcoming trip to America she wanted to take. From August 28 or 29, thru mid-September, she is coming to the Eastern coast of America with her best friend from Kochi. She asked me to help her plan the trip, when we returned to thr apartment. When we walked into the supermarket, I had a Deja-vous, type experience. It's been happening alot lately, with the the knowledge than my time here in Japan is coming to a swift end. Side by side with Naoko, I remembered last year's August 17th. My first night in Japan. That night, I was overheated, overwhelmed, and not feeling good. My host family took me to a Supermarket, which in the 20 minutes we spent there, was the most prosperous and amusing experience in my life. I wrote it all down in a journal, but I never got around to typing it up, so I will do that now. From the night of August 17th, 2006: "After dinner, we went to a Sunny Mart, which is the name of a Supermarket here in the Land of the Rising Sun. The Masaki's kept calling it a Soopa, so I wasn't totally sure that it was actually a supermarket. That and the only reason we were going was to buy me a new set of chop sticks of my own. They feel really bad that at dinner tonight, I had to eat with wooden ones. But I didn't mind because I kept messing up, and the family just assumed it was because the wooden ones were so bad. They believed me when I told them I know how to use chop sticks. But the Soopa was in fact a Supermarket, which, is not exactly like the Supermarket's I am used to. I think back to the trips to Food Town, Shop Rite, and the others, and laugh because they are NOTHING like what I went through tonight. I walked in with Naoko, through sliding glass doors. The building smelled likes bags, not paper bags, but thousands of plastic bag. I thought it would smell like fish, because I thought that fish was all the Japanese eat. But it didn't. I was immediately taken aback by all the color. There were 20 aisles, set up like the ones at home. But the shopping carts were much much much smaller, and little kids couldn't sit in them. At home we can read all the labels, and understand everything about what we are buying. At Sunny Mart, all the colors and the labels were in Japanese, in an alphabet so foreign to me, that scribbled lines would make more sense. We first went down the dessert aisle, or at least I thought it was the dessert aisle. Mr. Masaki was laughing at me, because I stopped and stared at everything. My mouth was touching the floor, and I couldn't take my eyes of all the new and exciting things I saw. My head was bursting with questions, I wanted to know what everything was and how everything tasted. It's like I grew up in an entire different world, with different food and ways of life, and I never even thought that there could be something like this. No one tells you this kind of stuff. At orientation, the leaders told us things would be different, but they never took the time to tell us that simple things like going to a supermarket would cause minor heart attacks. Is the world really so big that I a supermarket in Japan could be entirely different than a supermarket in America? Apparently. As we made our way down the aisles, Mrs. Masaki stopped and asked me what treats I would like to eat. Cookie Dough. Dove Chocolate. Orbit Citrus Gum. I couldn't answer her because I had no idea what any of the items were. The amusement got only weirder when we went into the fresh food department. In America, there are plenty of places to get meat. But here, I saw only a small frozen section. Instead, I saw what looked like half the Pacific Ocean. For the first time in my life, I touched a Squid, Octopus Tentacles, Shrimp, raw fish meat, and worst of all Whale. I will never eat most of this stuff, especially whale, and seeing it made me feel gross. I wonder how anyone could eat any of this stuff. But I can't deny that I was amazed! There were hundreds of thousands of different types of fish all on display. And people were picking them up and throwing them in their bins without a second thought. While I watched Mr. Masaki throw a full squid into Mrs. Masaki's tiny carriage, I burst into a fit. They all turned to see my eyes, brilliantly wide and dazed freaking out at this new and amazing wonderland. I probably would have wet myself, but Naoko immediately grabbed me and pulled me into a different part of the market where the chop sticks were on display..." That is the word for word (though not grammatical error for grammatical error) experience I wrote about on my first night in Japan. Over 11 months later, and supermarkets in Japan are what I consider normal. I can read almost everything, so when people ask me what I want I can answer. And going into the fish sections, is the still the best part. This time, because I love being able to decide what tasty fish we are eating for dinner. I still refuse to eat whale, but everything is pretty good. FOr instance, Takoyaki, tonight's dinner, is made from Octopus tentacles, which are utterly delicious. Being with Naoko, in a supermarket, and remembering that girl from last year is quite interesting for me. When I told Naoko what I was thinking about, she cracked up and said, "yeah I remember that. I thought you were going to pass out. You were even more excited than Otosan Masaki is when a new Pirate of the Caribbean comes out." Was I really that crazy? Together Naoko and I picked out quite a few items, including Takoyaki powder, sauce, Octopus Tentacles (and I didn't squeel once!) and of course, Hershey's Chocolate Ice Cream Bars, which Naoko picked out, though she told her family that I had my eyes on. When we purchased the items, we left the store, to where Okasan and Sakura were waiting for us. A few months ago, the Masaki family bought a new puppy, Sakura. Naoko likes to joke that she is my replacement. They were going to name the dog Gidget, in tribute to my own little dog, who's name has become a bit of a joke to Japanese people. I have not met one Japanese person with the ability to pronounce her name, so I make jokes at them. They didn't end up giving Sakura that name, because then no one would be able to pronounce it. Sakura is okay, I guess. This dog is barking racist! She lives and befriends all Japanese people, but as soon as I get within a 3 foot radius of anyone in the family, she goes absolutely crazy. I have bitten by this long little nuisance on more occasions that I can name. I'm just lucky her teeth aren't very sharp. But one thing is for sure, if I jump at her, she freak outs and goes to hide in her cage. And so, that it what I do. Naoko and I walked home with Sakura, while Okasan ran back into the store to buy some things Naoko and I had forgotten. Back at the apartment, we unloaded the food, then headed down to the pharmacy to help plan Naoko's trip. On the computer, we made a whole bunch of different scenarios. Naoko and her friend, an English speak, want to visit me in New York and then sit on a beach. But everyone keeps telling her that that is impossible. The Eastern coast doesn't have any good beach apparently. I told her that when she comes, I'll take her to the best beach in the world. No one can dispute that the Jersey Shore is not the best. We also looked into a Carnival Cruise, but with time restraints, that just isn't going to be able to happen. She is going to spend 3 days in New York with me and my family. I told her my family would not mind at all if she stayed at our house. I would like to go see Rent, do some touristy stuff in the Big Apple, and also take her down the shore. But we will just have to wait and see. At 7, when the pharmacy was all clased up, Captain Jack, Masaki Okasan, Naoko, and I headed upstairs, to where Ojisan, and Obasan were preparing the feast. We started making the Takoyaky. Naoko, famous for the fact that loves to cook, and even more famous for the fact that she is horrid at it, messed up the first batch of Takoyaki. We all smiled and pretended to enjoy the Fried Octopus, while our insides were threatening to throw up. The next batch came our quite well, though. Naoko and I made a special section with the Takoyaki filled with Cheese and Kimuchi, a Korean Spice. Captain Jack hates spicey food, and reused to eat anything. Therefore, he was the first to 'try a plain one.' While Naoko and I roared in laughter, as smoke flew out of Captain Jack's ears, he ran around the room looking for water. Naoko and I very much enjoyed our Kimuchi filled Takoyaki. When we were all done, and quite full, Masaki Okasan brought out the mix for Okonomiacki. Now this is quite unfair, because, no matter how full I am, giving the choice between a stomachache from fullness and an Okonomiacki and my stomach will be tortured. They were tiny Okonomiacki, thank heavens. But they were uttely delicious. Mine was Squid, Kimuchi, and Pork, smothered in delicious sauce and Mayonaise. AFter dinner, Naoko and I went into her room. I looked over all of her study material, for Thursday's big test. I made fun of her, but she turned around and made fun of me, because nearly a few days after I arrive in America, I'm off to begin testing. Throughout the night, I thought she was being a little cold towards me, but in her room, things were back to normal. In my family back in America, I was always the big sister, and in the host families here in Japan, that I didn't love, I played that same part. But with Masaki's and with my current host family, the Katou's, I'm the little sister. It's a part I was born to play. I do enjoy pestering my older sibling, while all the while absorbing every word that they say. Naoko has been that for me, since probably about last November, when I realized just how close the two of us are. While we sat and talked, Captain Jack entered the room and announced for us to get ready, as we would be going for Karaoke. I had never done Karaoke with Naoko, and Captain Jack knew she would be in quite a sup rise when she saw me. After all, he was the witness, to my brief mental crazy Karaoke escapade when the Short Stay students came to Kochi. As we left the pharmacy, Naoko ran into a friend she hadn't seen since Kindergarten. When they parted, she turned to me, shaking her head, and said, "Time does fly, doesn't it?" I wanted to tell her she had no idea, but I was having another Deja-vous moment. A few steps away from the Masaki Family Pharmacy is the Takumi Lunch restaurant. When I arrived at the apartment last August 17th, Mrs. Masaki was too busy to make us lunch. So instead Captain Jack, Naoko, and I went out to lunch at Takumi. I have never gone there again since that first day, but it holds such a special place in my heart. I pointed it out and asked Naoko if she remembered it. She tld me that it was the first place we all ate. The meal was Soumen and Raw Fish, and I refused to eat the Raw Fish. Naoko ended up eating it all, and Captain Jack called her a fat pig afterwards. I laughed thinking about it, and in English, said, "Good times, good times." The brief walk to the Karaoke place ended, and we took an elevator up to the 6 floor. I was the first to sing, and even though, it is the song that I ALWAYS sing at Karaoke, everyone was impressed. It is truly hard to sing a song in Japanese. With European language, the ROman alphabet is used, and even though you might have an incorrect pronounciation, you can always read what is being said. That is not the case with Japanese, as 3 different alphabets are used, 1 in which over 50,000 characters may exist. (I say may because no one really knows how many characters actually exist in Japanese, which should give you some idea how overwhelming it is.) Naoko was shocked I sang the whole thing in Japanese. But Captain Jack, who I just realized, is actually a really NASTY guy, had nothing but mean things to say. I love the man dearly, probably because he is hilarious and he treats me like his own daughter, but he can be quite mean sometimes. Like at dinner, he couldn't srop making fin of fat people. "Well Julie, when we first saw your picture, we didn't think we would be able to afford feeding you..." "Hawaii is so beautiful, if you overlook all the fat American's laying in the beaches." "Before Naoko was really quite a fatty, we thought we got her from America." But like, I said, I dearly love the man. I'm just thankful I have an enormous sense of humor. We all sang our own songs after that. Captain Jack tried for the Carpenters, but after a few minutes of failed English attempts, he gave up and switched into Japanese. At 10, after a good hour of pure Japanese karaoke, Captain Jack started to fret, he promised he would get me home by 10. So we ran home, to where my bike was. He assumed that I had walked, so he fretted even more. In his brothers American size van, we drive home. Naoko and I rehearesed several Japanese and English tongue twisters, which had Captain Jack saying something along the lines of, "Ze Smells Ze Yells, Boi Za Shii Show." When we arrived in Mama, my host town, I jumped out of the van and onloaded my bike. My host Mom came out, because she wanted to meet the world famous Naoko. And when it was time for them to leave, Naoko promised that when she returend to Kochi on August 8th, we would do some more Karaoke. She promised. And with that I gave my big sis a big hug.

Staring Categories of the Japanese

You know that pure and utter joy you see in the eyes of children when they see Santa Clause for the first time. We all know that heartwarming feeling you get upon watching children experience the jubiliance of Christmas miracles. Now picture that Santa Clause suddenly transforming into a big horrible green monster with all the elements to scare the crap out of normal kids. As a foreigner in Japan, both experiences of joy and horror follow me wherever I go. Though the proper term for foreigners, particularly Westerners, is "gaikokujin," the Japanese often use another term, which is "gaijin." The word can be strongly objected to, as it literally means "outside person", as opposed to "foreigner", and allegedly has an implied exclusionary tone. Trying to put it into an example in English, and I can come up with a couple good ones. Sometimes instead of saying so and so is Jewish, we'll say Jew. And also so and so is Japanese, we'll say they are a Jap. Basically Gaijin, like the given examples, can be taken offensively in a context. Yet to me, I take it kind of as a joke, and a label of my species. In Tokyo and Osaka, the two biggest cities in Japan, there are plenty of foreigners. So many, that most Tokyoites seem to consider it a nuisance. But, I was placed in rural Shikoku, the prefecture of Kochi to be exact. It is the rated the second most country type prefecture in all of Japan, and definitely one of the poorest. I love this place with all my heart, and consider it as my second home. But because it is so far off the beaten trail, there are very few foreign people. And with an aging population of Japanese folks that have had little or no experience with foreign presence, I get stared at. Alot. I can't even begin to go into all of the times I have been stared at. It's a daily occurence. I can't go anywhere without one little kid screaming, "Mom, look! A GAIJIN!" Or an old woman stare at me with her mouth slowly opening as she wonders as to what type of species I am. I've been in Japan for over 11 months, and the most people get used to the stares, I still hate them. It bothers me because no matter what, no matter how hard I try to fit in here, immerse myself in the language and culture, there are people who will never accept me. It is truly disappointing at times. My current host sister rather enjoys going to the mall with me. She thinks it is hilarious how most people refuse to believe I'm real or something. She made a type of list of Japanese people and how they stare. In turn, I formed my own list. The two lists slightly differently, because Michiyo has't had to live with my horrible disability of Gaijinity.

I. 3 Sub Groups (D's of Japanese People)

a.) Look Away-> the people that belong to this group are usually the more cultures Japanese businessmen or residents of Tokyo and Osaka. Basically what happens, is that they see the Gaijin, briefly think, "Oh Gaijin." Then quickly look away, while not giving it another thought. This category is a universal category. b.)Head Springer-> the folks that belong in this group are the people that give themselves Whip Lash everytime they see a Gaijin. What usually happens is the see a Gaijin, continue on with their business, then suddenly realize they just saw a Gaijin. With that there head springs toward the direction of the Gaijin, to make sure they aren't seeing things. There people are usually too shy to talk to the Gaijin. c.) English Student-> these people are usually students at local English Conversation schools. They see Gaijin every week at class, but are always on the look out for someone to practice with. They are usually very annoying folks who persist on English practice. *How to the "English Student"-> When a curious looking young adult approaches you and begins speaking in English. Say in Japanese, "Sumimasen. Eigo go wakarimasen. (insert non-English speaking country) kara kimasta." If that doesn't work, then run away.

Drop Ice Cream Group- Staring and eye contact is seen as a bit of an annoyance to the Japanese culture. But young children, who haven't been broken by the system, and the elderly, who just care about the rules anymore, fall into a special staring category. a.) Kids-> Usually young children who watch a lot of Anime and Manga, and not much news with foreign influence, although any young child who has never seen a foreigner before will have something to this reaction. The will drop their ice creams and scream, "Mom! Look! GAIJIN!" It will draw attention from not only the parents but also from people who heard the scream. b.) Elderly-> Most of the elderly people in Japan have never had much contact with the outside world. And those that have had interaction off Japan, are so fascinated by it, that they stare just as much. Almost all elderly Japanese people stare at Gaijin. It's also a very uncomfortable annoying stare that may include a mouth dropping.

Don't Associate, It's Not Safe- There are very few of this category left in curious Japan. These people are usually not educated in matters outside of Japan, or they just don't want anything to do with Gaijin. a.) "Mommy I'm afraid!"-> These are the young children who have never seen Gaijin outside of horror, murder, and other bad media. They usually hide behind their mothers in fear and don't siccumb to curiosity like Drop Ice Cream kids. b.) Rather stand-> Given the choice between sitting the whole 2 hours home on a train or sit next to a Gaijin, these folks will stand. It's not a bad feeling, it's just that they don't know how to handle a foreigner.

Water Sports Carnival

I'm beginning to think that living on the sun might be more comfortable than living in Kochi in late July. Oh sure, the sun is loads hotter, but a lof of stuff doesn't exist on the sun that does in Kochi. Like Yosakoi Dance Practice in a steamy hot gym with no air condition, 30 minute bike rides to and from to go ANYWHERE, and uptight Japanese people who don't believe me when I say, "I think I'm going to pass out." Rainey season ended last Thursday, much to relief of many people in Kochi. I, however, was not happy. Unlike any of the other months I have spent in Japan, I arrived last August. And on my very first day, I got massive heatstroke. I don't forget things like this. I do believe that living here has made me stronger, I can handle bitter winters with no heat, walk to school in typhoons, and survive road rage from mad Japanese drivers. But I have never been very good with the heat. So much so, that in early-July, I got sent home early for nearly passing out in class, and I have forbidden to run by my host family, which even though it hurts me alot not to be able to do my favorite hobby, I know it would end up killing me. I still take a 20 minue bike ride to and from school, occasionally go for walks, and participate in 2 hours worth of Modern dance 4 times a week. And because of these seemingly minute activities, my arms are covered in prickly heat, and every time I sweat on my face, the dry skin sends a burning sensation to my brain. It's horrible. But I don't like complaining, just stating the truth. And because of this situation, I found myself springing on the occasion to go for a swim. On Tuesday night, Osaki Okasan asked me when I would have free time to have dinner next week to see her son, Yu, off to America. I replied that I would come visit the family to reply if they had free time on Thursday. Instead of telling me that I could come in the afternoon after club, like I intended for her to do, she invited me to Haruno Sports Park to watch Hikari and Maako's Synchronized Swimming Carnival. In June, I went to their main festival, and surprised the entire family by just sort of showing up. I participated in the girls team a few times back in March, and many of the team members got friendly with me. For a few of those practices, I swam with the 2nd grade girls, and since I'm really good with little kids, I made quite a few friends. Except, it wasn't I who was good with them, it was them who was good with me. They had to stop very often to show me what to do. It was pretty brutal to my self-esteem. But I've taken the stance, that being bad at Synchronized Swimming is really not the end of the world. Anyway, for as much as I enjoy the team, I was not going to go and watch their competition in the middle of a sulty hot End of July afternoon. It didn't matter that I had nothing to do. Because of I went, I would turn into a baked lobster and be out of commission for the rest of the day. But at the end of the invitation email, I was told to bring my bathing suit, so I could swim along with them when it was all finished. I replied that I only had a Bikini. And that seemed to be okay. Actually, I should rephrase this. I have a bikini top and shorts that I use in the water, because I am embarrassed at my legs. However, I bought the set 2 years ago, and about 35 pounds heavier. Let's just say this was not going to be pretty. At 10 on Thursday morning, I woke up to my alarm and headed straight for Kouda, home to the Osaki's. When I arrived, all 3 Osaki girls acted like I was a new and novelty item. Every time I opened my mouth they freaked. It's like I hadn't even lived her for all those months. Only Hikari broke the surface. She and I worked on her Kanji Japanese homework. It really somes as a shock to anyone when you find yourself correcting a little kids JAPANESE homework. Hikari told me that she and Maako have Synchro 5 times a week, which explained alot. For instance, why the girls looked like one of their parents was African American, and why they looked like Raccoons. In the blistering sun for 5 hours a day, no matter how much sun block you put on, your skin is going to turn dark. But unfortunately the girls also wear goggles, which makes their face hilarious to look at on the aftermath. I now officially know the Japanese word for Racoon. The night before, Katou Otosan asked me if I would be eating lunch with the Osaki's. I told them I didn't know, but wasn't worried about it. He told me, probably not, and then proceeded to call the Osaki's cheap. I found this hilarious, until I began to wonder the reasons for it. Sure enough, I didn't get lunch. I ended up going a full 24 hours without eating, after over an hour on a bike, swimming, and sun exposure. Brutality, I tell you. Anyway, at 12, the girls left for the practice, while I waited until it would begin a 2. They left me alone in the kitchen for over an hour, not that I minded, because I spent most of time remembering funny happenings that occurred there. At 2, I hopped in the van headed for Haruno Park, with Okasan Osaki. When we arrived, I was greeted in the warmest way imaginable by the girls on the team. But the funniest thing was when the coach came to see me. I first met her on my first day with the Osaki's, back in February. She was 9 months pregnant, and being forced into maternity leave by the parents of the Synchro team. It was she who had first suggested that I try the sport for fun. When she saw me, she smiled and told me I had lost some weight, I looked at her and told her likewise. She burst out laughing, while I peered into the carriage next to her, and saw her beautiful baby girl. More things to contribute to my amazement out how quick time flys. The carnival was not just about the Synchronized swimmers. The first act was the water polo team. I grabbed a seat under the tent, to shield from the sun. I had smothered myself in sun lotion, but I have never been very lucky with sunburn. I'm white as a ghost, what can I say? From 2 till 3, I was forced to sit and watch little boys splash around in tightly whiteys, attempting to throw a ball into a net. It wouldn't have been so bad, if it wasn't over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. I was staring at a huge open pool, but not allowed to swim in it. Torture. When the boring Water Polo was over, the Kochi Diving team began their act. I hauled myself to the other side of the pool, planted my but in the shade and watched as a bunch of muscly teenagers played Flipper off the Diving Board. It was actually pretty cool, though. One jump, had the older boys putting the girls on their back and then 'falling' into the water at 30M. In midair, they all did some somer saults and were no longer on each others back when they hit the surface of the water. As much as I tried to enjoy it, the heat was killing me. Even though I was in the lightest possible clothes I owned and sitting in the shade, I felt like I was sitting in a frying pan. I don't mean to share all the details, but sweat was pouring out of all parts of my body. I was hungry and thirsty, but would have settled for the ability to jump in the pool. My face was disgustlying itchy, and I could already feel it being burnt. I'm beginning to think Sunblock just doesn't work on me. At least, Japanese sunblock, anyway. Finally at 4:00, the girls on the Synchro performed their act. Maako and her friend did a stunning rendition of 'Never Had a Friend Like Me' from Aladdin. For short little squirt, I have to admit, that girl is amazing. Hikari, who is a little cheese ball, only had one act. She and the 3rd grade girls did a 5 person act, which went really smoothly. I was impressed, and when they climbed out of the pool, I made sure to cheer the loudest. It was then that I saw it. The video camera. The Kochi channel had come to do a taping on the Water Sports Carnival. However, they seemed to find me a bit more interesting. Osaki Okasan told me that they had been taping me for over 15 minutes. I yelled at her for not telling me, I could have easily picked my nose, and all of Kochi would have known. Whe it was all over, I went to pull off my shirt and jump into the pool. But Osaki Otosan dared me to go and jump off the 30 M high dive, where the Diving team was having practice. I will never decline a dare, especially one that involves me doing something incredibly stupid and dangerous. But when I went over to the practice, the coach, told me that I would have to complete some training first. I know this shouldn't sup rise me in the least. But since I have been in Japan, and even more particularly, the Osaki family, I have had the experience to try EVERYTHING. Synchronized swimming, Over 60 bowling and swim club, Karate, Tea Ceremony, Dance, and Hula Dancing. Now I get to add Professional Diving to the crazy thing I have done list. The coach of the team threw to me a normal bathing suit, because the bikini top would come right off. This normal bathing suit would probably not even fit teensy tiny Maako, let alone this big ol' Gaijin. But I sucked it up, and pulled my shorts over it for good measure. I couldn't let the world see that I had a bigger cameltoe/wedgie than the Grand Canyon. Though I was beginning to regret the bet. A few other kids joined and wanted to try diving. These kids were all young, slender, in Swimming clubs, and wearing properly fitting attire. I was doomed. On the side of the pool we learned how to properly jump off the diving board. I was interested to learn that after all these years, I was doing it all wrong. When we finally got to practice, I felt like Christmas had come early. Jumping into the cool water, was the best feeling in the world. All the achy cranky sweaty stinkyness of the whole day was gone, and it was just me and the water. Still though, it didn't make up for how tough the Diving tryout was. I, being the oldest, biggest, strongest (and best looking, I might add) was sort of expected to be the best. I turned out to be the very worst. The coach sort of rolled her eyes every time I jumped into the water. I'm getting kind of tired of being bad at everything. Just in the past 2 weeks of summer alone, I've been creamed by beastly dance practices for Yosakoi, and now Nazi Diving Camp. I don't get what these people expect from me! Finally, we all 'passed' the first part of practice and then headed onto the big board. The 30m, 3 stories up, was off limits to everyone, which I found quite unfair. The 20m was also off limits. So I settled for the nest best, the 15m. All the other kids chickened out, and went to the 5 mete, while I took the great leap off. It was a little bit bigger than the Verona community pool High Dive, and thus no bog deal for me. Although I did jump off wrong, and hit the water pretty painfully. I also lost my pants. How do guys keep them one when they jump from such height? Oh never mind all of the guys on this team are in Speedo's. When I submerged, the team gave me a hearty clap. I got out of the pool, quickly got changed out of the bathing suit, and then returned to the coach. I thanked her and returned her suit. She asked me what school I attend, and I told her Tosajoshi. She then told me I had to bow to her, as she was my Sempie, or senior student. At 6, the Shincro team was all finished, so we headed back to Kouda. I was supposed to be home by 7, which would have meant a heavy duty ride through Kochi. But when we got back to the house, the news had started. As I suspected, the Water SPorts Carnival had a main theme. One gaijin, the Tosajoshi exchange student, who had bested the heat to come and cheer on her fellow Kochi sports members. I loved how they actually thought I bested the heat. That is certainly not the case. When I biked home, late, starving, sun burnt, and overheated, I stopped at a Convenience Store. I wanted to buy a HUGE bento to inhale in one bite, but I was being a bit cheap. I ended up settling for an Energy drink. A full day's course in Vegetables drink. It was disgusting. But when I got home, dinner was on the table. I ate like I have never eaten before.

Winding Down

I can't put my finger on a second or moment in my 14 years prior to Japan, when I thought I would end up here. But to be even more broad, I can't even think of a time, when I would have got on an airplane, full of dreams and hopes and a good attitude, with a plan to live in a country, any country for an entire year. A year has passed since I arrived in Japan, my host country, and I find myself thinking about everything that has happened in the past 11 and half months. And with analyzing each and every day, I'm beginning to realize things. I have regrets. Not big ones, but still, there are a few in existence. For me, these regrets are little, almost insignificant ones. I wish I could have learned Japanese quicker, and more proficiently. That's not say I didn't do my best. I wish I had given my cell email to my friends earlier, so that I could have spent more time hanging out with them. But in my heart, I know, I made more friends this year then any exchange student in the history of this school. I wish I spent less time on the computer and more time with host families. But I also know that my host families were busy people, and I didn't spend half as much time on the computer as people think. I wish that more Japanese people would have accepted that I can speak Japanese, and treated me more like an equal rather than a foreign novelty. It seems like these regrets either couldn't have been prevented, or just weren't meant to. But looking at everything has also given me a moment to realize something else. I'll be in Japan for 363 days, which really is not as long as one can imagine. I look in the mirror every morning and see a totally different person that I did a year ago, as I anxiously pulled post it notes off my wall in anticipation for departure. I've changed alot, but I can't grasp a specific moment in time, when the change occurred. I suppose it was all gradual. And yet, I've come to realize that one second can change a person's entire life. In one second, something can happen to make us open our eyes and change our thoughts on everything. I don't really know that this is making any sense whatsoever, but it's coming for my heart. I went to the post office yesterday, to send a 13 kilogram package filled with school books and some small presents home. Even though, I'm highly conversational in the Japanese language, I still had trouble. I thought back to my first experience at the post office, back in September, when I spent over 3 hours trying to get 8 stamps. (Read the post in September Happening's for more details.) What I realized is that no matter how much time goes by, some things never change. It's just a bit sad that a trip to the post office had to make me realize this. But this realization is the reason why going home is scary for me. I feel like I have changed so much, or perhaps not at all, that just my scenery has changed and thus made me think I have changed. What is home going to be like? Will 363 days make as much of a difference as I seem to think, or will everything be exactly the same as I left it. Will my family have changed and gotten used to having just 3 people? I had good friends before I left, but will me missing the most important year of high school cause problems in our relationships? Will I be able to get back into life of being a teenage girl in America? I've heard people tell me that when they returned from their exchange, life is harder than when they were away. And that is why I think, I am afraid to go home. I look at myself again. I've gotten thru an serious year of intense Japanese study. I survived a sucky experience with my second host family. I've become more independent than anyone in my home high school can even think to claim. But will this make any difference, when I'm back in the USA. Last night, I found sleeping to be the hardest thing I have had to do. I was overheated and exhausted, but Icouldn't stop thinking about home. My heart beats with excitement at seeing my Mom, Dad, and sister, at being able to run on my home turf, at gluing my eyes to the new Harry Potter book, at being able to understand without thinking twice. While at the same time, my heart breaks, thinking about the amazing life I have to leave behind. I feel like a mess of emotion, even more roller coaster like than life as an Outbound, or student before leaving. The clock ticks, and another minute passes, another minute till my exchange winds to close. And still I can't decide what to feel.

Kagami Gawa Matsuri (2 Entries)

On Saturday, after what felt like the hottest day I had ever lived through in my entire 16 years of life, my host Mom decided to take me to the Kagami Matsuri. The Matsuri, Japanese for festival, used to be an enormous exciting time with 100's of stalls, good fun, and nostalgia for all Kochi residents. The story spreads out till right after the ending of the war. Alas, about 15 years ago, the festival ran out of money. With no money in the bank, about 5 years passed in which the festival did not occur. With no Kagami Gawa Matsuri, people began to take more of an interest in Yosakoi. Even though Yosakoi had been around since 1954, it used to be all about fun and dancing. But when the people lost their July Matsuri, they began to put all their efforts into Yosakoi. Now Yosakoi is a gruelling dancing competition. But about 3 years ago, with a large amount of sponsorship from outside Kochi companies, the festival was able to make a comeback. The stalls are about of what they used to be in size and items. But a Matsuri is a Matsuri no matter how many stalls come or don't come. When Katou Okasan asked me if I would like to attend to Matsuri, I was more than happy to do so. THe previous week I went to the Obiyamachi Saturday festival with all of my friends. It was such fun, and the Kagami Gawa Matsuri promised to be even better. However, she wanted me to wear my Yukata. I love my Yukata with all of my heart, and I would wear on any occasion. But just breathing made me break out in sweat on this day, so I begged her not to make me wear it. SHe understood the situation, and he trekked off after a Soumen dinner to the middle of Kochi City. Our first stop was an old run down building and headquarters to Otoson's School friend. The friend was running for a member in the Japanese House of Representatives. Otosan was serving as the man's Campaign manager. Tonight was the last night for campaigning, and since the Matsuri was going on, all the competitiors were out and about ushering voters to attend their speeches. Otosan was speaking, and we watched his give a warm greeting and thanks to the people for their support. When he was all finished, Okasan and I headed off in the direction of bright lights, Yukata-claded girls, and the frag rants of Okonomiacki sauce. Now I have been to a Matsuri before, and I mean a true one. The Okiyamachi Matsuri is too small to be consodered a true one. I went last summer, yet my memory of that Matsuri did nothing to stop the shock I was feeling. The only think I can really think of that resembles a Japanese Matsuri, even though inly a very little bit, is an American carnival. Matsuri's are full of people, mostly dressed in traditional Yukata and are absolutely stunning. There are thousands of lights, all in different shades of reds, yellows, and oranges. Unknown frangrants waft through the air, some resemble Okonomiacki sauce, while others Squid frying in the distance, and even the smell of Ketchup and Mayonnaise. COme to think of it, there is no set smell, because every time you turn your head something news hits you. What seems like thousands of tiny stalls selling everything a Japanese heart could desire light the way. Okonomiacki, Takoyaki, Ikayaki, Tamagoyaki, Yakisoba, Hashimaki, Hamburg, French Fries, American Frank's, Tempura, Eel, Onigiri, Taiyaki, Osakayaki, Fried Sweet Potatoes, Corn on the Cob, Candied Apples, Cotton Candy, Crepes, Ice Cream, Sherbert, Snow Cones, Candied Strawberries and Banana's, Manjuu's, Anco filled Ice, and everything else a Japanese person could ever hope to find. The stalls are small, but each has a person taking orders and money, while another one is behind a large stove frying or preparing the food. What I quickly realized with this particular Matsuri is that, the only thing to do, besides listening to the band, was eat. And eating was what people were doing. I tell you, I have never seen so much food being consumed in one place in one time. I watched as one particular group of girls sat at a table, each girl had a plate of Yakisoba, as well as 2 sticks of Hashimaki. Then they each had their own box of either Tamagoyaki or Takoyaki. I honestly don't think I have eaten that much in my life. But all aside, I was loving every moment of this festival exploration. Shoulder to shoulder with Okasan, we walked along the brilliantly lit stalls pondering over everything. I also began to regret my decision to not wear a Yukata. It seemed like everyone of the girls was dressed in a beautiful clothes outfit, while I was dressed in a jean skirt and yellow top. As we walked along, girls from Tosajoshi began to notice me. I think I got well over a thousand greetings from people that I somewhat recognized. Ever since my speech, I've become even more famous than usual. Now they all are aware that I can speak Japanese, and aren't afraid to wave to me and ask me how my night is going. Okasan managed to chuckle at everyone, and make a remark about how I am probably more popular than all 4 of her kids combined. When we made our way all the way down one side of the festival, we stopped to listen as one band played some traditional tunes. Okasan asked me what I wanted to eat. I didn;t want anything, but I saw that I was the only not gorging out on some food, wearing a Yukata, and gorging out on even more food. I asked Okasan what she wanted, since she was much more experienced in the art of Matsuri than I was. She wanted Ika Yaki. For all those who are Japanese impaired, Ika is Squid, while Yaki is Cooked. Basically she ordered two long and large sticks, covered in thick white meat. Squid Tentacles. The Tentacles had just been smothered in a salty flavoring sauce, and then thrown on the grill to roast. Like all Squid, it was a bit too chewy. But other than that I could not have been happier. Seeing how thirsty the Swuid was going to make us, Okasan decided we ought to buy some drinks. Since she bought me the Squid, I insisted on purchasing the drinks. I ordered two extra larges, which were twice the size of the McDonald's Super Size, in Tea. We took our Squid Sticks to the place around the stage, where and a small time band was playing some old time Japanese music. There was excitement in the air, dancing, and all around freedom from work. It was summer vacation, and at that moment in time, chewing away at a Salty piece of squid, laughing at some toddler dancers with my host mother, and feeling a slight breeze blowing off the side of the Kagami Gawa river, I had a moment. My exchange is coming to an end, there is no way getting around this fact. But you know? When I have these moments, when life seems to be absolutely perfect, that it almost seems to good to be true, and that no way could it possibly get any better, I think that coming here was the best decision I ever made in my lifetime. And I don't think I'm wrong about that.

The night before, I attended the Kagami Gawa Matsuri, and had an amazing time. I was with my host mom, a lovely woman, with whom I have become incredibly close to. Everything seemed almost perfect. When I found out that it existed for another night, I knew I had to go. Last week when I went to the Oboyamachi Matsuri, I ran into Chiake. She couldn't stay but she texted me later saying that the next Matsuri we should go together. I remembered this when I emailed her and asked if she wanted to go along with me to the Kagami Gawa Matsuri. Even though she had Koto practice from 8 in the morning till 6 at night, she agreed to meet me at Hirome, and head to the festival. I had planned on wearing the Yukata, because the night previously I appeared to be the only one not wearing a Yukata. However Chiake would be wearing her school uniform, and I didn't want her to feel left out. So at 5:45, I departed the Katou house and headed for Hirome. I met Chiake at about 6:10. We crossed the main street together catching up. She told me all about her day's major practice. Since the team is actually heading to Shimane-ken on Tuesday for the All-Japan Koto tournament, she was nervous. They had only 10 minutes on the stage to perform a brilliantly difficult piece, in which they have been practicing for for over 7 months. They have practiced occasionally, but since the start of the summer, they have been playing on the one song. So from 8 in the morning till 6 at night everyday, the Hugh school members of the club gather around and practice the one piece. I tried ti imagine myself doing the same thing. No way. I felt kind of bad telling her what I did. She was curious, and it seemed like she wanted to hear me say something like, "Save the entire continent of Africa," so that she and I could have had equally interesting days. Instead she listened as I told her I strolled the Kochi Famous Sunday market and took lots of pictures. I think I heard her even snort. When we made it to the front of Mos Burger, I dropped off my bike, and together we followed a mass of Yukata-clad girls in the direction of bright lights and loud noises. It was on 6:30, and already there were more people than the previous night. Walking along the narrow road was uncomfortable even, and I kept banging elbows with random people. Chiake also has a an annoying habit of walking, so that when I move an inch, she does as well. Her bag must have smacked my shoulder at least 30 times a minutes. Nevertheless, we kept moving, keeping an eye out for teachers. Chiake was in her uniform, and if spotted, she would be suspended from school. We didn;t see any and we kept on going. When we made it into the festival, the forst thing Chiake did was ask me what I wanted to eat. I told her I didn't care, and we walked arm in arm along the stalls. I just stared and admired the mights and atmosphere of the festival. For me, it's just too much of an experience not to stare and get absorbed in everything. CHiake wanted to eat Karage, which is like fried chicken. I told her I was leaving Japan in 2 weeks and could eat fried Chicken at home. Then she wanted French Fries, I told her I was getting something else. I wanted to try something I had never tried before, and I spied one stall selling Hashimaki. The stall workers were mixing up a batter that looked much like an Okonomiacki mix. Then they were spilling on the hot plate to where it cooked. I thought it was okonomiacki until the men rolled it up onto a pair pf chopsticks, then sprinkled it with Seaweed, Cheese, and Dried fish. I waited in line, wanting to try it more than ever. CHiake even waited with me, because she suddenly changed her mind about the French Fries. As we waited, a weird old man approached us, seeing that we were speaking Japanese. He was drunk, and he demanded to know where I learned the language in English. I pretended to ignore him, until he asked me in Japanese. Then he demanded I practice English with him, which I knew would cause a scene. I ignored him, until he asked me where I came from. I told him France, and Chiake snorted. He sauntered away seemingly embarrassed. We both got one stick. What I liked best was that CHiake stood back and let me order. Alot of the time, the people I am with, even though they I can speak the language, try to make sure that the clerks understand before I attempt in Japanese. When we both got our food, Chaike was on the lookout for a place to sit and eat. We crawled through some of the stands and found a spot next to the river. Then we opened out packages, and, in a very un-Japanese girl way, we inhaled the Hashimaki. Actually we had a race to see who could eat the fastest. CHiake won, of course, because I don't do well with hot foods on the tongue. We wanted to sit and enjoy the company, but our seat was right behind a stall making a Yaki Soba, and lots of lots of noise. Plus a family with small kids was looking for a place to sit, so we got up quickly and reentered the festival. EVen though I was with my best friend, the night was cool, and I was eating some of my favorite foods, the magic of the festival had worn off. It was too crowded to be enjoyed in the fullness I had last night. But Chiake was still hungry, and she insisted on getting a Crepe. Together we orderd two Strawberries filled to the brim with whip cream. We found another spot by the river. I have never had the pleasure of eating with someone like Chiake and that is saying something. My sister can't eat chocolate ice cream without spilling on her shirts, but CHiake could eat a Crepe, which a food with a covering, without spilled nearly everything on her school skirt. The only one she own. She ended up eating most of my crepe, because hers was on her lap. When we were finished we walked around the festival some more. We ran into all sorts of Tosajoshi girls, but luckily no teachers. Chiake kept telling me that it was unfair that I was so popular. She said she should get some credit for being my best friend, and then burst into laughter. That's just the kind of stuff she and I say to each other for fun. At about 7:30, CHiake's father called. He was just outside the festival and ready to take her home. I wanted to stay a little but longer, which cause her to worry. She told me that every time she was with me, weird people came up to talk to us and this caused her to worry whether I could be okay alone. I laughed at her and told her nobody messes with scary Gaijin. I walked her to her car, and then headed back to the festival. I only stayed for a few minutes before deciding to head back. Before I said goodbye, I gave her a big hug and wished her all the best of luck in her compeition. I told her I wish I could go, but I can't. Instead I hoped that she would win, or at least get 2nd. It was the first time I ever gave her a hug, and alot of people stared at us. I was suprised, in that CHaike didn't even flinch. Upon returning to the festival, I bought some Tamago Yaki, but didn't really like it. I wanted to take pictures and play some games, but the crowds were just too great. It was still a great experience, and I love Japanese Matsuri, but it wasn't the magic I felt like the night before.

Eel Gives You Stamina

Japan has a tendency to have really surprising things. Alot of these things can't be explained, but continue to shock me, and probably will for the rest of my life. Of course there is no such thing as Eel Day on our calendar here in Japan, but I would think that the day almost deserves such a name. Don't you think that a day in which probably about everyone in the entire country of Japan sits around their dinner table eating delicious and scrumptious eel, would merit such a name? The day, which is different every year although always in the last week of July, is actually called doyo no ushi no hi -– “day of the ox in midsummer.” It is said to be the hottest day of the year according to ancient customs brought over from China. Ushi, or "ox," refers to one of 12 animal names, assigned to both years, as well as days within each year. Many Asian cultures use these animal names to describe cycles of time. Based on the lunar calendar,"Doyo" refers to the 18-day time period prior to a change of seasons. There is a doyo period before the onset of winter, spring, summer, and autumn. It is this latter one that most Japanese are familiar with, since it is on the ox day of this pre-autumn doyo, that eel-eating is believed to restore stamina that has been sapped by summer heat. "The day of the ox” fell on July 28th this year. So what does the hottest day of the year have to do with unagi? Like everything else here, it can be traced back to a comical story. More than 200 years ago, owner of a very unpopular unagi restaurant asked a guy for an idea for boosting their sales. The guy, Hiraga Gennai, was a pharmacist (think about Captain Jack as a pharmacist because this seems like the sort of thing that would occur with his doing.) Gennai put up a poster at the restaurant, which said something like “Eat nutritious eel to beat summer weariness,” and people were convinced that it must be a good thing to eat such a nutritious food on the hottest day of the year. It worked like a magic. The ad not only saved the slumping restaurant but created a custom that has been passed down for more than 200 years. On the supposed Hottest Day of the Year, when people stayed inside anxiously to stay away from burning sun, choking heat, and all around awfulness of the weather, I managed to do just the opposite of what everyone else was doing. This morning when I woke up, I was looking at a day with absolutely nothing planned. I decided right then and there to go for a long and gruelling run. Well, not gruelling, but at least a run in which my body got some much needed exercise. I have not been able to run for over 2 weeks now, because of the heat and being prevented from my worried host parents. I don't blame them, I nearly passed out in school, on particularly hot afternoon. It's not a good excuse, but I can't say that I didn't long for the ability to do my favorite activity in the world. I started off at 11, just after I woke up and had my morning coffee. The sun was blazing overhead, and it was already in the upper 90's. I thought that since I had not run in over 2 weeks, my body would not be able to handle a very difficult run. I planned on keeping it at a 30 minute run for safety and for getting my body back up to speed. But I surprised myself. Runner's High took over within minutes, and I decided to take a long run all the way to Kochi Castle and back. It takes 17 minutes while running to get from my host house to the castle, and 17 minutes to get back. So I ran around the complex for about 26 minutes. It was an incredibly refreshing run. I was out in the sun for just over an hour, though it felt like 20 minutes tops. I was so happy and proud of myself, that I overlooked the fact that my face and turned the color of a peach. I must have forgotten sun screen. When I returned, I decided to buy lunch at the food store. I had planned on eating a huge dinner of delicious eel, so I wanted to keep the meal small. I bought two cups of 80 calorie ice cream and gum. Then I headed back to the house. My legs were more tired then I had earlier suspected, and when I reached the house, a sudden shooting pain of Shin Splints shocked me into falling up the stairs. I wasn't too worried, because I had nothing else planned for the days activities. Or so I thought. Inside, I took a nice hot shower, did the laundry, and then opened a cup of my lunch and turned on the television. Life could not get any better, I thought. My cell phone started to ring, and I answered to hear Katou Okasan. After she scolded me for not having my cell phone on me in the early morning, which she tried to call me a dozen times, she began telling me something else. She asked me to get on my bathing suit and come to the family company. Michiyo and I would be going swimming at one of the local Kochi sports pools. I swallowed the remaining ice cream cup whole, as I frantically threw on a bath suit. I was out the door and on my bike within 5 minutes. At the company, I met up with Michiyo and we headed for the pool. It wasn't far, but I still spent over 30 minutes in the bike. The Shin Splints had returned in full force, and I was worried as I walked into the indoor pool area. I quickly got changed, making sure to look at myself in the mirror. It was so embarrassing, because Bikini's are really rare in Japan. My bathing suit is only a bikini top, with long shorts for bottoms, but I got alot of comments made to Michiyo. Last summer, a week after, I arrived, I wroe about Julie's Poolside Adventure. Unfortunately I never saved it, but I can still remember it clearly. It was a horrible afternoon, and even though a year has passed, it seems i have no luck with Japanese pools. The Japanese are Asian and that means the color of their skin is somewhat to a yellowish tint. Whereas in America, everyone wants to be tanned and have color, here in Japan everyone wants to be white. In fact, most people I know even take supplement pills to attain the white tint. My skin is white, I mean ghostly sickly looking white. In America, even people who around pretty white people tend to make comments about my color. The Irish in me took full bloom on my pukey white skin, what can I say? Even though my arms are brown from the heavy sun exposure I've been receiving, I was wearing a bikini top. The color of my skin makes strike 1. Strike 2 is quite simple, I was wearing a bikini. This is very bad, because in Japan, bikini's are only worn by loose college girls at the beach. I was a High School Student at a public pool in conservative Kochi. My only saving grace was the fact that instead of wearing a normal bottom to the suit, I was wearing long boy bath suit shorts. But the real big strike, I mean the one that causes the umpire to start screaming, "YOU ARE OUT!" came with the fact that I was not born Japanese. At a pool in the middle of nowhere countryside Japan, a Gaikokujin had just entered. The only people who usually frequent this particular pool are in elementary school kids, or are nearing their 300th birthday. None of which as any idea who to react to a gaijin, other than just staring. And I wasn't just a plain Gaijin. I looked like a Ghost in a Bikini from some far away land. How far fetched is that? I also lost some weight this year. Not much, but enough to make the bathing suit pretty much hang off of me at the top. And much to my horror, as I stepped into the pool, the top flung open. Yes, you read that right. And are now probably wondering why I would put something so embarrassing on my website. Well, I was quick. My hand shot up to cover my exposed parts and I screamed for Michiyo to help me. In the water, we had it all fixed. Luckily, it was then that it was discovered that a Gaijin had entered the water. This is lucky, because my dignity could not take another strike against me. Think about it, the ghost in a bikini from America who can't keep her top on. Oh the horror. Michiyo and I changed lanes into a less busy section. She noticed how uncomfortable it was for me. I think it would be for everyone, if you suddenly had 30 kids and 20 old men and woman pointing at you and whispering things like, "look at that! A Gaijin!" or "She is SO white!" I love Japan, and I love Kochi, but I'm tired of them treating me like I'm not one of them. Aren't we all humans? And they think I can't speak Japanese. I occasionally hear comments like, "Now look at that brave Japanese girl talking to the gaijin. What a clever girl speaking English!" Nobody will ever believe that I'm the clever one. I'm the one speaking Japanese. Sometimes, when the people making the comments are close, I'll turn to them and say something like, "I can understand you and I don't appreciate you words." Sometimes this will really shut them up, and they'll look away all embarrassed. But sometimes they'll keep going, "Wow what a clever Japanese girl! She taught the Gaijin a few words in Japanese!" Okay sorry for the rant, but pools in Japan always make me annoyed. Michiyo and I first did about 20 laps, and then we headed over into a different lane. Pools here always have a lane dedicated to walkers. Walking in the water is considered a sport. Now don't laugh, it's actually quite intense. But since Japanese people are so short, the water is really shallow. This would expose my ghostly stomach, and I wasn't in the mood for more comments. So I stayed on my knees, which actually helped my shin splints alot. At 3:30, Michiyo decided that we ought to head back home. After we encountered 3 little girls who stared at me while I changed, we biked back to Mama. My body was exhausted when we parked our bikes. I needed that Eel for stamina. I told Michiyo I was going to go take a nap, because I had nothing on the agenda for the rest of the day, except a dinner of Eel. She told me that I had to make sure to get ready. Ready? you ask. Oh yes! It must have slipped my mind that I had a 2 hour Yosakoi practice! Surprisingly, my body didn't object. I really think I'm an athlete because I can handle alot of things. 70 minutes of running, 30 minutes of biking, 100 minutes of swimming, and 120 minutes of dancing, it is a bit on the cruel side. But I seemed to be okay. At 6, the family all sat down at the dinner table and ate a delicious portion of Eel steamed over a bowl of rice. The side dish was spicy eggplant and tomatoes. It was utterly delicious, and I even had seconds on the Eel. At Yosakoi practice, I did great. I was Genki and happy through the entire practice. I continue to surprise even myself. Though I think I'll give credit for this one to the eel.

Having A REALLY Hard Day

In the 350 or so days in Japan, I have only cried 5 times. I mean I've cried during sad movies as well. But I mean cried from letting things get to me. The first time was August 31, when I arrived home late from the movies with the Hirosue's. My cell phone had died, and the Masaki's were horrifically worried. They didn't yell at me, but they explained how worried they were. This and on top of this sudden feeling that things were not working out. I had arrived less than 2 weeks earlier, and had not started school. I had no friends and I couldn't speak the language. I lost it. The next time I cried was at my birthday party, but I don't count these tears because they were of joy, not pain. The second occasion was when I left the Masaki's for the Oono's. With the Oono's, the family whom did not want to host, I cried twice, for the same reason. My host father had lost his temper on me and told me I couldn't go out with my first host family. It was horrible, but I had the tears, and vowed never to cry again in Japan. When I left the Osaki's for the Katou's, the tears came again. I was sad to leave and get closer to the ending of my exchange. As I'm typing this column, I'm going to have to add to that number. I'm at number 6. Today was a really hard day for me. People say that the ending of your exchange is the best part. It's not. It's the hardest. The only thing on my mind is goodbye. Every time I say that horrible word, I wonder if it is the last time I'm ever going to say it to that person. I love so many people here in Japan, and even though I still have quite a few days left in Japan, my heart breaks every time I think about it. Tonight, after an especially difficult Yosakoi practice, Masaki Otosan picked me up from in front of the house. With my computer, we drove to Sansuien, the place of next weeks Goodbye party. I'm supposed to make a slide show with all my pictures as a bit of a going out type thing. I was going to originally play Koto, but that's impossible, then I was going to do Karaoke, but the upped the location of the party to the garden, and so no Karaoke machine. Instead I have to make a long thank you speech and the slide show. I love Rotary and can't thank them enough for all that they have done for me, and I'm very skilled at speeches. But I'm tired of them. I'm tired of writing and practicing. It seems like I've spent most of my exchange preparing for the next speech, always thanking people, always getting comments about how good my Japanese is. It is good. But you know? People say it's good, and then go on and pretend I can't speak the language. My new counselor, Okamura-san, knows full well I can speak Japanese. He sees me squash Captain Jack's English, when he tried to show off, and flop back into Japanese. Yet every time he wants to know something, he asks Captain Jack. He, like the majority of the Japanese people in the world, refuse to believe that anyone other than a Japanese person can speak the language. They have this mindset that it is a language of only the select few. Now I'm not setting they are discriminatory, but in America, we don't ignore people because we think they can't speak the language. And it's not so much as ignoring me, as it is treating me like a mute. It's like no matter how hard I try to fit in, with learning everything about the culture, and being fairly conversational in the language, I will never be accepted as most than a foreigner. It hurts me alot. But that's only a speck on the map of what was going through my mind. The Oono's, my second host family, told Rotary they were not coming to my party. Now let me get this straight, they were my least favorite family. The host father did not like me at all, and made it obvious quite often. But I was close to Mari-chan, and Eri. I thought they would at least come and see me off. Perhaps, this is a the opposite of one expects. But hearing that they weren't coming hurt me ALOT. I don't know, it just I feel like I did everything right this year. I didn't break any rules, I learned Japanese at least conversationally, and I fixed the problems caused by previous exchange students. Yet it seems, that even though I did all this, I failed. That's an outrageous statement, even now, I reread it and I think I just suffered a brief moment of insanity. I didn't do anything wrong with the Oono's, and I can't even blame the differences in cultures on it. I never had a host family like that or even met someone who trusted people that way. But Rotary doesn't know that. And thus, Okamura-san made a comment like, "Well I can only wonder why they aren't coming." Captain Jack, who never talks about fellow Rotarians in a bad manner, kept his mouth quiet. Never mentioning what happened. All in all, no matter how much I did or dodn't like them, the fact that they aren't coming is... disappointing. When we got everything all set up, and were eager to head back home, I spied a long piece of Bamboo in the trunk of the Masaki car. I asked him what it was far, and he told me he and the rest of his pirating clan were going to do Nagashi Soumen, which is my favorite Japanese summer food. He asked me if I'd like to join them. We talked over the dates, and it was realized that I don't have any time. I have only 12 more days, and all are filled to the brim with activities. I nearly lost it. Not because I couldn't eat Soumen, but because 12 days was put into perspective in this sort of fashion. It hurt a lot. We continued talking, and I asked Captain Jack why he thought the Oono's weren't coming. His English is very blunt, that's why I prefer he speak Japanese. 'Well it izu becuz zey don rik you.' He didn't mean to be so blunt, but that how he sounds when he speaks English. I felt like crap. Tonight with Captain Jack may have been the worst night I have ever spent talking to him. I arrived at the house with a million harsh things drifting on my mind. A huge speech, with 4 days to prepare for. A huge slide show, with 4 days to prepare for. A second host family that hates me, though I don't know what I did wrong. 12 days. I barely made it through the door when Michiyo pounced on me. In her politest way possible she told me that since i Had left early from the practice, the teachers came to speak to her. They want me to start coming early for extra lessons in Yosakoi practice, because I'm just not doing as well as the others. I told her that I didn't it, because even though I'm not the best, I'm not the worst. She gave me a look that said, I was indeed the worst. Controlling myself in the best manner I could, I turned to her and said, "This is not exciting and I'm not happy anymore." Then I ran upstairs and burst into the tears that have fallen from my eyes. I reread this over and over again and I sit in disbelief, because I never let anything like this bother me. I know my second family hated me. Usually it's a bit of a joke, I can laugh at with my other host families. I know I'm a terrible dancer, and it's something else that I like to laugh at with my host families. I have accepted that many Japanese people will never admit I can speak the language. And so I go out of my way to prove them wrong, and smile while doing it. I like doing big speeches and showing people my pictures, even if under a bot of pressure, it always works out. These things are daily occurrences, and mean so little to me. I'm a strong person, and I learned a long time ago that the best way to get through life is to learn to laugh at yourself. Yet, why did I let all this get to me so much? Simple. I have only 12 days in Japan. 12 days left in the place I love with every piece of my heart. I never expected to get Japan. Or much less, fall in love with a country of narrow roads, raw fish, people who set outsiders as a different species, and all the jazz. Yet now I don't know how I'm going to leave this place. Because I'm leaving 3 host families that I love, a class at school that accepts me one of their own, and a life which I have built up. I'm having a really hard day. And only 12 more days to go.

Last Family Night At The Osaki's

From February through May, I lived with my third family, the Osaki's. All in all, I had a wonderful experience, and I know that I want to keep in touch with them as best as I can. There were times in those months, when I was convinced that the didn't like me, though. Eventually I realized it was just differences in cultures. One thing that this family excels at is family life. There are 4 kids, Yu, Kaho, Maako, and Hikari, 2 parents, 2 grandparents, and 1 cousin and her mother. Even though at some occasions I can't help but be shocked at the way they treat each other, the majority of the time I am amazed at the level of togetherness they have. Probably once every two weeks, usually on a Saturday or Sunday night, the entire family gets together for a big dinner. Sometimes, they have a reason to have a big dinner. For example, when I arrived at their house, when my Mom and Nana came for a visit, when I left, and when the Short Stay exchange students came to Japan. For most of the time, they just hold the dinner for not set reason. Unfortunately, I never got around to putting up an entry about exactly what happens while I lived with the family. It's unfortunate, because, these dinners are alot of fun. I love spending family time with Ebuki, Maako, and Hikari. But I was in luck. Because I leave in 12 days, and because the Osaki's son, Yu, is heading to new Jersey for a few weeks, they decided to have a double Sayonara Party. It would be my last Osaki Family Night, and the last time I would see Yu while staying in Japan. At 6:20, Hikari called my cell phone to tell me to meet Okasan at the Sunny Mart outside my host house. I quickly got dressed, and ready and ran out the front door for the giant Store. Knowing the Osaki's, they would be be late, but I still wanted to be ready. As I waited on a bench outside the Supermarket, I took pleasure in knowing that I didn't have Yosakoi practice tonight. Don't get me wrong, I love dancing. But not when the teachers are psychotic and competitive. And as if the teachers were sitting right behind reading my name, suddenly the music we dance to came blaring on. Mama township is known for playing music in the middle of the afternoon, but not for haunting gaijin. Pretty soon, the Osaki van pulled up, and jumped in the vehicle. It didn't take Hikari and I more than two minutes to catch up. I immediately began making fun of her for resembling a raccoon. Since she has intense 5 hours Synchronized swimming practice in the scorching sun, no matter how much sun block she puts on, the lines on her face from the protection of the goggles are hilarious. As for me, no matter how much tanning lotion I put on, or how long i stay in the sun, my skin remains a puke white. When we arrived at the house in Kouda, I walked out of the car and came face to face with a 5 year old neighbor boy. He took a look and me and began screaming, "Mom GAIJIN!" I looked at him, and then at the mother and screamed, "Hikari NIHONJIN (japanese !)" The mother shot me a dirty look, while the Osaki's roared in laughter. They scurried off, as I headed for the house. I couldn't even walk through the door, when Hikari chucked a balloon at my head. We were soon in the middle of an intense round of volleyball with a McDonald's balloon. After suffering major losses, Hikari called a redo and moved the game inside. It amazes me how the Osaki's don't even flinch when I enter the room. It's like they think I never seem to have left. I don't know how to accurately describe it. But if I was thirsty, Okasan would give me a look clearly stating, "You know where the fridge is, get it yourself." I guess it's a good feeling knowing that it's like you never left in the first place. I just hope this stands the test of time. Soon, Hikari and I were loitering in Obachans room. She kept murmuring to herself how quick a year goes, and how old she's getting, and how at her age she needs to start doing more traveling to visit all her friends. I have a faint idea that she is in the works of planning a trip to come and visit me. No surprise to anyone, Hikari announced she was hungry and it was time to eat. We all headed up to the second floor, where the food was spread out on the dining room table. Maako had woken up from a nap, and we were only missing Ebuki and Kaho, who were stuck at a strict Yosakoi practice. Chizuko Aunt had already arrived and was setting out the dinner. There was an enormous plate of Ohm rice, being covered in Ketchup, 2 plates of Nagoya Sesame Chicken, Pork Salad, and plain salad. Before everyone was seated, Hikari had helped herself to the chicken, and was nearly finished with her 5th bone. We all began eating, and I dug into the pork salad and smothered it with Goma sauce. It was delicious. Yu, next came down stairs and picked up the plate of Ohm rice, which mind you is the size of a small elephant, and poured more than half of it on to his own plate. Yu Osaki is probably the most disgusting eater in the world. He must consume well over 8,000 calories at dinner alone. Sure he practices Karate for 3 hours a day, but still, he should be enormous by now. The rest of of us took smaller portions from the plate. Ebuki then arrived home, and we had a cheery reunion. I have not seen Ebuki since May, and it was great to see her again. I really do think she is probably the most personable of the bunch. She was exhausted on this night after a 6 hour tennis practice, followed by a 2 hour Yosakoi practice, and an hour of biking to and from. She and Yu had a race to see who could the most food, unofficially of course. Throughout the meal, Otosan Osaki asked me various questions. He wondered what my favorite Japanese food was, and I told him Okonomiacki. He also asked me what my favorite part of Japan was. Now this is an unfair questions. I told him I didn't know, because it is too complicated to explain my real answer, which is everything. He asked me if it was school, and Okasan butted in, that I didn't enjoy school al that much because I was always in self study. This is true. I liked school alot, but Tosajoshi is definitely not a good school for exchange students. It doesn't have a good program for learning Japanese. I think I have a pretty good knowledge of the language, but it is all because of myself. I was ALWAYS in self study. He also told me that Rotary is again having trouble finding host families, and the Osakis were asked to host from November till February. They said no, but would be willing to do it in a few more years. I think it is unfair, because Rotarian families are only supposed to do it once, and now Rotary has the nerve to go and ask the Masaki's and Osaki's to do it again. It is true that they had a wonderful experience, and would be great host families to another student, but that's not how the Japanese Rotary program is supposed to work. After we were finished eating, Obachan began clearing the table. A knock at the door, found us looking over a letter about Yu's trip to New Jersey. Since the typhoon is going to hit Japan and probably delay the flights on Shikoku, he will be leaving tomorrow rather than Friday, when he supposed to. Only a day before he leaves, and he finally gets his host family information. I watched as Okasan opened the information with total fear written all over face, she explained to me how worried she was letting her son go off to America. She claimed it was because he couldn't speak a word of English, but I know it was because he is her first kid. I tried to comfort her and tell her about the first time my Mom let me go of on my own. I was just 11 years old, when my family sent me on a 2 week trip to California with People to People Student Ambassadors. I sit here now, on a computer in Japan, because of this program. At just 11 years old, I was given a taste of freedom, and forced to open my eyes to the world. I caught the travel bug, and caught it bad. Even though, I got incredibly sick in California, causing my mother to burst in worry. She realized it was the best thing she ever did for me. 2 summers later and I went on a 3 week trip to Australia with the same program. And 2 summers later I left for Japan, for a year. I told her this and told her, that her son, 15 year-old Yu, is older than I was when I left for California and Australia, and the same age I left for Japan. And he is independent and in much need of seeing what there is out in the world. I think these words actually helped her. When we looked at the list of Yu's families, I jumped for joy, and held more assurance that Yu would be just fine. His first family, the Case family in Chester, have a son, Robert, who I befriended when I he came to Japan on the Short Stay program. His third family, the Tilak's, have a son, who actually lived with the Osaki's during the Short Stay program. Both boys were really nice, in my opinion. And upon hearing these words, I think Okasan, finally accpeted that her son would just fine in America. For a few minutes, I sat on the couch with exhausted Ebuki and talkative Hikari and Maako. Then CHizuko Aunt brought out dessert, Mochi bites, or glutinous rice cakes filled with flavored cream. Hikari and Maako both got Chocolate, while Ebuki took Strawberry. Only I tempted fate and got Sweet Potato, which was very tasty. Really. Time was getting away from us, and since it was fully dark, it was time for the fireworks. We headed outside, and behind the tiny post office, where we lit off the the tiny dollar store fire works. Obachan kept telling the girls how lucky we all were to be watching fireworks on a cool August night, in the presence of each other. A year ago, had you told me I would be spending August the 1st with an enormous Japanese family, eating, playing, and setting off fireworks, I would hae told you you were mad. Life is so unpredictable, and being around a big loving Japanese family, reminds me of one thing. That family is one of the strongest bonds you have. Out of 4 host families, 3 of them are the closest things to a family that strangers can become. It was my final Family Night at the Masaki's on my exchange year to Japan. But something tells me, that it isn't the last one of my life.

The First and Last Few Days

Occasionally I mention in random places just how difficult my first two weeks in Japan were. I reread some of my old posts, but I never quite put the truth in those words. The truth, that in those first two weeks of my life in Japan, I doubted myself. And so, from the various writings scribbled in the corners of study pages, crumbled pages of an old book I read over and over again on those first few days, the truth is being told. On August 17, 2006, under a heavy Rotary blazer jacket, I hauled over 70 pounds in luggage through the Kochi airport. Everything happened so fast, but the next thing I knew I was in the van with the Masaki family, heading to their new home. Sweat was pouring out of my face, and I felt so hot and horrible. But what made everything a little bit worse was that the Masaki's were speaking only English to me. Now I came here with no knowledge of the language, but I think I thought I would just pick it up when people spoke it to me. I told my host father to try to say in Japanese, and he refused, wanting to keep practicing English. We arrived at the apartment, and howled my massive luggage up 3 stair cases to the third floor. And a smell hit me. It was the smell, that I have come to love. The smell of old Japanese homes, covered in old Tatami matting. But the smell did not at first give me a good feeling. It made me nauseous. It did not smell like the flowery cleanness of my New Jersey home. He smelled like old people. My host sister, showed me to my room. I was shocked. It was a huge room, with an air conditioning unit, much to my relief. My bed was located on a huge Tatami flooring, which I assumed gave off the odor that had earlier repulsed me. I looked around for a moment, and saw a room for old people, not for me. I saw a room that was what most people come to a call a guest bedroom. It was clean, but still dusty. It had some figurines that the family tried to use to make the room have some sort of characters. These figurines gave me weird feelings, because they were traditional Japanese Geisha type things with blood streaming from their eyes. The first thing I did was begin unpacking. Naoko offered to lend me a hand, but I turned her down in favor of doing everything myself. I pulled my clothes out and hung them in a small cloth closet type thing. I watched as I unpacked my entire life, or the life that I was able to fit into 2 bags, unfolded in an environment that I wasn't happy about. And when I was finished I pulled out my computer, I wanted to email my Mom and tell her that I arrived safely and okay. I also wanted to tell her about the smell, but I knew it would bother her, so I didn't. But the Internet did not work. There was no connection from the 3rd floor. Otosan Masaki promised to get everything fixed, after we ate lunch. He apologized that his wife was too busy to make it, and we would be eating out. He made a rude comment about her being busy, which sort of shocked me. I went to bed at 8:30 that night, and every other night that week. Even though I found a did very little during the day, at night, exhaustion took over my body. Jet lag was a killer to me. Even though my host family didn't seem to mind that I went to bed so early, I knew they were wondering if this was normal for an American teenager. I didn't have time to think at night, because as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was usually asleep. The mornings were a different story. I can't stress how entirely heartbreaking those first few mornings were. I had wanted this exchange so badly, and I had almost never had any second thoughts about going. And yet, as soon as I woke up, my mind was still in America mode. The room, which had poor shading, was incredibly bright at 6 in the morning, when the sun rose. On top of it, it was scorching. No one ever told me how disgusting Kochi weather would be. My first 3 nights, we lost power to a typhoon and the air conditioning just never came back on. And thus, the mornings found me covered in sweat and feeling overheated. The blanket was a flimsy towel, that could not be considered a blanket. And every morning it was covered in sweat. I lay there in a room I felt no attachment to, as it was not my own. I was never homesick, but more or less annoyed. I was annoyed that I had come all this way, and the only thing I could think about was if I could survive an entire year. There was never a moment where I said, "I want to go home." I never wanted to go gome, it's just I had no agenda, no communication skills, no computer, books, and most importantly, friends. A week earlier, I had a Going Away party, end even though, I have always thought I don't have many friends, for once in my life, I felt like I was going to be missed. And even though it seems silly now, I just wanted someone to talk to and call a friend. I never thought much about my home family, but I did constantly think about what I was doing. The thing is, these thoughts are normal for exchange students who go to a country with no knowledge of the language, so I was not angry at myself for feeling the way I felt. I just knew I was being a normal case. The mornings were really bad, but I was lucky in one sense. I had packed a huge box of M and M's to give to my host families. Instead I ended up eating the entire thing in one week. It's disgusting to think I actually did that, but it got me through those early morning hours. When noises from the kitchen drifted into my room around 9, I always got up with my study book in hand. I ate breakfast with the family, yes, after the M and M's, and then urged my host father to help me. One thing I have to give my self credit for is that when I really want something, I will do anything to get it. For me, it was knowledge of the language, I needed to communicate. One night, we all went to a restaurant, and I couldn't read the menu. Nobody knows how incredibly frustrating that is. But for me, it prompted me to learn the alphabets to the best of my ability. And I studied my butt off in those first few days. There was nothing else to do. When you come to a land not knowing the language or anybody in the country, with about 2 weeks before you start school, the agenda looks pretty empty. My favorite hobby is running, but typhoons hit Kochi and then a humid weather prevented me from going. There was another thing that was bothering me as well. My host father did nothing. Oh sure, he ran the pharmacy down stairs but when he returned for the evening, he sat on the couch and yawned. My host mom cooked and cleaned, and worked and did EVERYTHING. And when I tried to help her, she thought I was mad. I disliked the way my host father did things, even though I gradually began to love the man as my own parent in only a few days. The way that men treat woman in this country is eye openings, I thought. Looking over what happened, I come up with this: Basically mornings found me wallowing in self-doubt, afternoons found me studying Japanese and praying that I would find friends, and nights found my exhausted from Jet lag. I think if you told me that 48 weeks later, my final 2 weeks would be quite the same in one sense, and different in another, I would have not believed you. For one, I planned on only staying 10 months, not 12. And when I say a different sense, I guess I have to explain what I mean. In these past few days, making up the last couple of days of my exchange to Japan, I have been a roller coaster of emotions. At nigh time, I stay up till 2 or 3 on the computer typing and working on a slide show for my going away party, but mostly to avoid going to bed. When I do get into the sack, no matter how exhausted I seemingly appear, I can't sleep. My mind is on America. More specifically Verona, New Jersey. My heart beats in excitement at seeing my Mom, Dad, and sister. I can't wait to be able to understand everything. I can't wait to be treated like a human being, not some weird foreign person. I can't wait to dig into a plate of Mexican food, a half a rack of Ribs, and a full quart of Orange Juice. Yet my heart breaks thinking about Japan. In my entire life, I never thought I would come to Japan for a vacation, let alone live here for an entire year. And it's more than living here too, I love it here. I love everything about this place, the smell of the Tatami flooring, the way that men treat woman, and how they secretly fight back by holding the purse strings, the smiles I get from my classmates for trying to communicate in Japanese. Those first few days were difficult, because I had self-doubt, something that living in Japan all these months has forced me to lose. In fact, there is no bigger supporter of me, than, well me. How did those few days of self-doubt end? It wasn't a moment of looking the mirror and shouting, "Eureka! I love Japan!" It came in gradual steps throughout this entire year. But those gradual steps were made possible by my adoption of a policy, that everyone in the world ought to learn. What's right in my culture, is not always right in another culture. What works in Japan, might not work in America. It does not mean that it isn't right ot wrong, what it means is that it is different. Now I'm just bidding my time till the 13th, when that 10:50 flight leaves Kochi for Tokyo, and then to America. In these few days, all I can think about is family. In America, my Mom, Dad, and sister await my return excitedly. But more that them, there is another group of people, whom I like to think of as family. They are the Masaki's, the Osaki's, and the Katou's. When I say I think about family, it's about everyone I just mentioned. Saying goodbye to one life, and hello to another. I can't swallow the fact, that when I leave everything will change. Life will go on, just like it has for this entire year in America, which worries me in another sense. How much have I missed? And how, in Japan, will I be missed? Night time is brutal, because all I do is think about these things. A million thoughts about just anything that has happened prior and during my exchange. Things that no normal sane human being has ever had to think about. The mornings are the opposite. I sleep till about 11, get up, not sparing a thought about anything. Then I go for my morning coffee and then either go on a long run, or meet up with friends at Obiyamachi. The afternoons are spent on my computer or saying goodbye to people. I feel like, with the amount of goodbyes I have had to say, I'm becoming all bottled up. I don't even cry anymore, even though there are some goodbyes that I know are for good. What do the first and last days have in common? They were both days when I fought an entire battle with my self. Each with different reasons. They were both also turning points in my life. In the beginning, without those first few days of self doubt, I would never have taken up my policy, and would never have grown to the person I am today. In the end, these days that I live will help me as I say goodbye to Japan, and head onto my next adventure.

How We Remember Our Heroes

August 6th, 2007 makes the 62nd anniversary of the Atomic bombing of Hiroshima. Though the war didn't officially end until later in the month, I think unofficially the war did end at 8:15 that morning. I've already typed my views on Hiroshima, and this post is not about whether it was right or wrong or about the reasons for doing it or not doing it. Instead this a tribute to two men, two worlds, and two cultures, who fought on different sides of the war for different reasons. These two men that did not know each other, but would eventually become connected in a way that either would have probably liked. Mart J. Garner is a man I knew for only a few years of my life. He passed away when I was just 6 years-old. But in my mind, I remember him as clear as the last day I saw him. He was short man, though I don't think I ever saw him stand from his chair in the living room of the house. He had graying hair, wrinkles, and thick glasses. The wrinkles are the most distinct thing I can remember. But then if you had 7 kids, I guess wrinkles would be more than natural. He used to love Starburst candies, and I remember he liked the flavors that I didn't, Yellow and Orange. And when I would go into the room where his big chair was located, he would always put out his hand for a shake. He used to tell his son, my Dad, that a man's handshake is the most important thing in the world. A form grasp is what people judge in a person and one should always remember that. And even though I wasn't a boy, I think he always wanted to feel a good firm handshake from me. I didn't often get to visit my Grandpa, something I will always regret. I was only 6 year's old when he died, not yet old enough to be curious about the past. What I mean is that when I spent time with my other grandparents, Nana and Pop, I always love to hear about their childhoods. I guess I'm one those rare cases of kids, who likes to listen, and learn. And I never got that chance with my Grandpa. But after his death, when I got a little older and a little more curious about my heritage, I began to ask these questions. My Dad, as reluctant as he was to talk about it, tried to tell me everything he could. He started with his own childhood, growing up in a house with 7 children. And from there I learned about Grandpa met Grandma, the daughter of a Belgian consulate in Haiti. He met her as he served the country, as a World War II soldier. My Dad could not tell me anything else. He really did not know anything, which surprised me. How could he not know about his own father? Yet, the answer is so simple. Grandpa saw things in World War II, things that probably changed him for the rest of his life. No one knows exactly what he saw, but we all have some idea of what happened in World War II. There were horrors, brutalities, gory causalities, and friends that disappeared in an instant. Mart J. Garner was a West Point graduate who served as an officer in the heavily battered United States Merchant Marines during World War II. The only thing my father and I know was the Grandpa fought in Europe, until the ending of the European conflict. He was then sent over to the Pacific. He was on the island during the great battle for Okinawa. But when Japanese submarines were spotted a few miles away, the Merchant Marines were called off the island. He made it home safely from the war, but never ever wanted to talk about it. There were things, however, that stuck with him. Little things, that only his children who grew up with him could have noticed. All in all, I know my Grandpa loved me, and even though it would probably have taken some time getting used to it, he would have been proud of what I have done this year. Katou Toshihito was a Japanese soldier in Imperial Army. I did not know Katou-san, as he died way before my time in Japan. But I know of his legacy. It lives on his son, my current host father. As an exchange student born in America and hosted my the country of Japan, at least once in a year, World War II will come up. The thing is, it probably won't be a Japanese person to bring it up. Though a good amount of the Japanese tend to overlook a few spots in history that cast shadow on them, the majority believe that World War II was a mistake. Most are even embarrassed about it, and won't talk about it, even when I bring it up. However, there was a time, when it came up and my host family could not deny the chance to talk about it. We were visiting Katou Otosan's mother's home in the middle of Shikoku. The the midst of the mountains, 84 year-old Katou-san lives alone, but works her own farm, sells her vegetables, and has more power in her than ten 84 year-old American grannies. Her house is over 200 years-old and full of historical artifacts. In the most prized room of the house is a huge picture of a young boy probably in his late teen years. He has a serious look on him, but in his Asian ideas I can see fear. The slant Asian eyes, are opened slightly larger than usual. Japan is losing the war, and the young Katou-san knows it. He is dressed in the uniform of a soldier of the Japanese Imperial Army. His service began after he graduated high school, later in the war. He was lucky in that he was not sent overseas, but instead asked to remain behind on the main land for when the American Invasion was to occur. Katou Otosan does not know where he was stationed, only that he did not escape the horrors of war. He once told his son that he saw the Firebombings. How he heard the screams and charred bodies. That is all that Katou Otosan knows about his father's service in World War II. Because, like my own Grandfather, he saw horrors that he didn't want to talk about, he didn't want to remember, he didn't want to spread to his children. When the war was over, he returned to Kochi City, and married his girlfriend. Before they could settle in the city, he told her he wanted to be as far away from urban area. The cities were always the first to get destroyed, were his reasons. So they moved onto the side of a mountain in the middle of rural Shikoku. He had 3 children, and life went on. But he never forgot about the war. When I think about how old the Earth is, and how long human civilization has been around, 62 years does not seem like a really long time. It is close to the average lifespan of a human in the Western civilization. But what is really amazing to me, is that in 62 years, two countries that had once destroyed each other, are now close friends. It took much less that 62 years for the woulds between the two countries to heal. I only use that number because it is what is the most recent Anniversary of the ending of the War. Hiroshima does not cross the mind of Japanese teenagers as they eagerly await for American movies, fashion, and culture. Pearl Harbor does not come to mind when Hideki Matsui smacks a home run at a Yankee's baseball game. The Battles for Midway and Okinawa never cross with the thoughts of anyone at Dinner every night with my host families. The son of a soldier is the host father to the granddaughter of a soldier from the other side. Whatever there reasons were for fighting, it is all over with. What is done is done. The only thing that can be said is that we have all put the past behind us. The only important thing now is the future. But we pay tribute to our heroes.

My Final Koto Practice

It seems like in my last few weeks of living in Japan for a year, everyday is a new goodbye. A few days ago, I was reading some of my old posts, and I stumbled on the outbound post of Saying Goodbye. I was really upset when I wrote it. My good friend was leaving for Bolivia, and we probably weren't going to see each other as I was leaving the day she was returning. Saying goodbye to her, made me think about how hard it was going to be to say goodbye to Mom and Dad, Shannon, Nana, and Pop. Everyone that I love in America. My life in America, which I'm not going to lie, was really difficult, until the middle of Sophomore year. Then it got so much better. Yet, when I wrote it, I seemingly foreshadowed these few days I've been living in Japan. I wrote, in only one sentence, "saying goodbye to Japan will probably be even harder." No one tells you the hardest part of your exchange is not overcoming a language barrier, getting through Christmas, dealing with a difficult host family. No, the most difficult part of your exchange is letting go of the lifestyle you took a year to build up. What is a year really? 365 days? People in Japan usually live up to 100 years of age, and thus 1 year is just a speck of memory. But this year can never be just a speck of memory. I honestly do not think anybody has ever had an exchange that was as good as mine. Perhaps this statement will cause some controversy, especially since alot of exchange students frequent this site (and steal ideas.) But when you come to a land with absolutely no knowledge of the culture, language, lifestyle, and everything, and then leave feeling more content than ever before. Well, it's just really something, isn't it? And now that I got that feeling off my mind, I'm on to type about the hardest goodbye I have yet to say. I don't really know that this means very much, as I haven't had to say goodbye to everyone at the time of this typing. But on the morning of August 6th, the Tosajoshi Koto club gathered for one final time and tribute their honorary exchange student. I woke up early to the sound of my cell phone alarm. I haven't heard it in awhile, or at least since school ended. I nearly threw it against the wall, like in one of the television comedies. I haven't been sleeping well lately. I finally get into bed at around 1, and fall asleep and hour or two later. All I can do is think about home and Japan, and try to disnguish the difference between the two. Thus I had something like 4 hours of sleep that night. And with the beating sun every morning, murdering the skin on my face, I have the BIGGEST age wrinkles ever. I look like an Old Man, and feel like on until I drink my morning Coffee. After I was dressed and ready in my uniform, I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs. Okasan greeted me and then smiled at me in a sad manner. I asked her what was wrong, and she reminded me that this was the last day that I would be heading to school in uniform. I was really annoyed at this comment. I guess I'm lucky that the Japanese language doesn't really allow you to express anger, because this is what I wanted to say, "everything is the LAST... FINAL.... END.... I'm so tired of hearing that, this and that is the end. I just want it all to END!" I guess I must sound like a moody teenager, but I'm so stressed out and not handling as well as I used to. It's true, though, everything seems to be the last of this and the final of that. My sanity can't take much more. I mean I'm fully aware that it's the end, but I really don't want to be reminded. The other problem is that I no longer cry. Okay, so I guess that's not really a problem. But I don't even cry when Chiake, my best friend is hugging me and wailing for me not to go home. It's like I'm so immunised to these endings on the crying part. Anyway, Okasan asked me what time my Koto concert would begin. Her and her 3rd daughter, Mamiko, who had just returned from University wanted to come and watch. The one thing I have to admit, is that I really love when my host families come to watch my activities. I don't expect them to, 'cause they are all really busy, but when they do, it makes me happy. I'm like the epitome of a bad teenager. I just don't understand when kids tell their parents NOT to come and watch their performances. I guess, maybe if I really sucked, I'd get it. But even still. I think it's because I wish my real Mom and Dad could see my playing the Koto, dancing Yosakoi, and participating in traditional Japanese Dance. But since they are on the other side of the world, that's a bit impossible. I set off for school, that last time on my bike. Along the way, I passed through the streets of Mama, and on my favorite course to get to Tosajoshi. It wasn't a stroll down Memory Lane, because I do it everyday, but I was trying to take everything in. I hate to quote Bon Jovi but, "Take it in, take it with you where you go." When I pulled up to TOjo at 9, I rushed into the school, trying to avoid being late. I got plenty of "Judii!!" greetings. Most of the Club girls who have to come to school in the summer can't imagine why I'm still here. Most exchange students leave in June and July. But I'm staying through till the end. And they also don't get why I'm at Tojo, when I clearly graduated. It's because I can't stay away from my club. I made it up to the third floor, out of breath, but in a much cheerier mood from all the morning greetings. Only to suddenly be uplifted in walking into the Tea Ceremony room, where the Koto club meets everyday for practice. I barely stepped through the door when the Ko Ichinensee girls spotted me and let out a huge cheer, "JUDII!" I smiled and greeted them back, pulled off my slippers and walked on to the Tatami mats where some of the girls had already laid out the Koto's. Today was not like most practices, it was my Going Away mini concert type thing. And thus, the girls, who on normal days are just plain energetic and happy, were even crazier. The Middle School girls jumped up and down and screamed my name over and over again. Luckily, I as rescued by club leader, and my best friend, Chiake Yamanaka. Since the Koto club was all finifhed up with their All Japan tournament, she was not one big bundle of nerves, or a grouch to be around. It was the Chiake that I have come to love. She pointed out a Koto, which I retrieved and set down in my practice spot. I put the little tuners on, and waited for Chiake to come and tune the Koto. While she worked steadily, I went and got a music stand and Koto stand. Then I pulled out my final piece of Music and began to practice. The Ko Ninensee girls, better known as my friends, returned at this point and rushed over to me for some hugs. Then CHiake returned to her Nazi Koto captain self, forcing the girls to leave me alone because I had to practice to impress my host family. I tried to tell her if that if I touched my tongue to my nose, the Katou's would probably be impressed, but she ignored me. Thus I began practicing the song, Yuyake Koyake, which I have been practicing every so often since May. A week ago, I returned home and asked my host family the meaning of the song. It seemed like the Koto teacher was so forceful to make sure that it was the last song I played, no matter how much I argued against it. Yuyake koyake (Sunrise, Sunset) is a popular childrens song composed by Shin Kusakawa, who worked as a music teacher at Hasedo Elementary School in Ebisu. The song signals the end of the school day as the children return home. I understood exactly why they had chosen this piece for me. And even though, I hated the song with passion, I could not deny that it had been chosen for a reason. Because I was that school child returning home, that exchange student returning home from a long day, when in August I would be playing it for the final time. When I learned this, I became determined that it would be perfect when I played it for the final time. At 9:30, the Ko Ichinensee and Ko Ninensee, exclusing me, practiced their song, in which they would play for the Mini Concert. It was a celebration song, and when I hear it I could have kissed Chiake for picking it. THis may be the first and only time that in saying goodbye, it is is done so in a happy manner. After they practiced, the Ko Ichinensee girls filed out, and I was called to practice with the group. For the first time all year, I was not nervous at all prior to a concert. This one was small, sure, but I was really confident in my skills. I placed the Tsume on my fingers and listened to Yukimi play the beginning parts of the tune. Then on cue, with Airi and Yukimi, I began. It was the first time I played the entire song with all the girl together as one, and it turned out quite brilliant. After we were done, CHiake looked at me and flung up her thumb in a 'good' signal. Normally she say something like, "Well if we keep trying, you'll get it," or "I know you did your best, and that's all the really counts." It's not that I'm bad, but Chiake is a bit obsessed with perfection from the Koto club. She seems to only expect perfection, which I reckon is the reason they made her captain. At 10, Mamiko Katou arrived at Tojo. She used to be a student here, so I watched as she walked down the hallways filled with memories. I wondered when I would be able to do that. While we waited for Okasan to arrive, the members remarked at how beautiful Mamiko is. They were shocked when I told them she was a Tosajoshi girl. Returnig to the club room, I put my Koto against the wall. The first song that would be played this morning was the Celebration song. When Okasan arrived, she and I Mamiko entered the Koto room. Takemura-sensei, the teacher in charge of the club, welcomed them. I grabbed my blue Tosajoshi bag, and sat with Okasan and Mamiko in the front of the room in chairs overlooking the Tatemi mats. On the mats, Chiake and the Ko Ichinensee and Ninensee members of the club all sat at their own individual Koto's. Chiake welcomed my host family and then explained the purpose of the Mini Concert, "We, the Tosajoshi Koto club, are performing a Going Away Mini Concert in the honor of the exchange student Julie Garner, a member of our club. The Senior members will now perform a Celebration Tune, to celebrate the year Julie has had. Afterwards Julie will lead the Ko Ninensee in a rendition of YuYake Koyake. Please Enjoy! Now members, let's bow!" And then they began. The piece of music was one that I had heard since last November, when I first joined the Koto club. And as I watched the seriousness of the girls as the strummed away in their own worlds, I thought back to everything this club has given me. All the memories, at least. My first practice, when an insane girl nicknamed Taco forced me to take a million pictures with her. After the practice, the members all gathered around me and asked me how often I would coming to club. I told them once a week, and they all frowned. The next thing I remember was being talked into coming twice a week and nearly everyday of Winter Break. As my Japanese prgressed, so to did my membership with the club. One day in Winter Break, after practice was over, the girls of my grade sat around and listened to me talk. I ended up bursting into tears and telling them how difficult my second family was, and how school wasn't fun anymore because the girls in my class could never hang out. Chiake, Casami, Yukimi, Airi, Yoko, and Yuki listened and then hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay. And in their words I listened. WHen I moved out of the second family, I was closer to Chiake's home. And thus, I would stay till the end of practice and together we would bike home in the rain laughing and screaming at each other in Japanese. When I had a hard time with one particular piece of music, which caused the teachers to consider giving me a simpler piece, I listened as Yukimi and Casami fought for me, and told them I was good enough for the difficult piece. And in April, when my Mom and Nana came for visit, the club insisted on having a Mini concert to show them my new skill. They were fortunate enough to see me play Sakura 21 with my best friends, and club members. And then there was that night in April, when we all played Sakura 21, one final time, in front of 500 people at the big concert. It was an amazing night. Practices and summer vacation later, and here we were sitting again in our Koto club room about to finish my term as a member of the Koto club. This piece if music made me remember all of this and more. And when they were finished, after the thank you bow, Chiake gestured for me to pull nup my Koto. I retrieved from it's wall position and placed in between Airi and Yuki. Chiake watched me, and when I was all settled, with the Tsume on my fingers, the book opened to the right page, and a smile on my face, she signaled Yukimi to begin. And when the time came, so too did I. It was not perfect, but it was me. I'm not a perfect person, but this year I have tried my hardest to do my best, and that is exactly how my final playing went. The Lyrics to Yukake Koyake: 夕焼け 小焼けで 日（ひ）が暮（く）れて 山（やま）のお寺（てら）の 鐘（かね）がなる おててつないで みなかえろう 烏（からす）と いっしょに かえりましょう 　子供（こども）が かえった あとからは まるい大（おお）きな お月（つき）さま 小鳥（ことり）が夢（ゆめ）を 見（み）るころは 空（そら）には きらきら 金（きん）の星（ほし） And for all those of you who are Japanese impaired. The english lyric version: The sunset is the end of the day, the bell from the mountain temple rings hand by hand let’s go back home together with the crows. After the children are back at home a big and round moon shines, when the birds dream, the brightness from the stars fills the sky. And that is how I finished my tenure as a member of the Tosajoshi Koto Club. Though I was not yet one of the children to return home, the tears filled the eyes of Chiake and Yukimi as I strummed my last 7th string. I waited for the signal, and then bowed. I was done. It was over. My extracurricular activities were officially finished with. I quickly headed to my host family, and thanked them for coming, while Takemurs-sensei walked them to the exit. All the members of the club, from the first year in middle school, to the my grade, had come to watch. Now they waited patienly for Chiake to give orders. I supposed they expected her to go berserk at them for something, like usual, but instead she got up from her Koto calmly. Here eyes were puffed, and I could see her physically pinching herself to keep herself from crying. She quietly told the girls to head into the Art Room, where there would be a small party. I was a bit surprised, because I didn't expect there to be a party. I just thought we would be playing. In the Art Room, the members of the Ko Ninensee, who had purchased drinks and desserts, were quickly passing them all out to the younger members. When they were finished Takemura-sensei returned to join the party. As everyone was seated and ready to dig into their food, Takemura-sensei stood up for a bit of a speech. She began saying that in the history of the Koto club, 3 exchange students had joined. 20 years ago an Australian girl learned the music but didn't stay in it very long. 8 years ago a talented Tai girl joined and blew them all away in her musical talent. And last but certianly not least, me. I joined the Tosajoshi Koto club. She went on with how I originally joined the Track team, but left around November to try things related to Japanese culture. Matsuoka-sensei recommended me to try the Koto club, and even though I begged him not to make me do it, because I would be an embarrassment not knowing how to read music, he forced me to go. I found that the music was much easier to read than regular music, because it was just Japanese Kanji. And since then, I have been involved and loved by the Koto club. Chiake went next and talked about how she and I became best of friends this year, thanks to the club. THen they asked me to do a speech and all I could get out was a simple thank you. WHen I was done, I bowed and sat back down. Takemura-sensei then lifted her cup in the air and called for everyone to do the same. We let out a loud Kampai! or CHeers!, smashed cups, and then swallowed down. My drink was some nasty tasting Orange stuff, and I reminded myself that only next week would I get to retrun my delicious Tropicana 100% Then as I was forcing myself to swallow this foul Orange thing, the girls dove into their dessert of crackers and chocolate. It was a feast. The whole time I sat and conversed with Taco and CHiake about school, and how they were going to find a way to come and visit me in America. At 11, everyone was finished eating and waiting for orders. Chiake decided to give the girls an hour and half break, after they cleaned up. And so when they were all finished, the younger students trekked out for lunch. WHile the Ko Ninensee stayed behind. I wanted to get some pictures of us with the Koto's before I was to leave. We hung sround the room, in the way that I will never forget, the way we did on the days when we didn't have a big concert on the agenda. The days of WInter Break, when I first began to feel apart of the Koto club. We layed on the mats, in between the long Kotos pretending to sleep, or hopping around and playing Tag. We laughed and took bad pictures of each other, messed up one another's hair, and put mean notes on CHiake's back. Chiake and Yuki began practicing a song, while Taco and I shot rubber bands at them from a secret spot. When Chiake found us, she jumped up and began chasing us around the school. This is what I will always remember about the club. The friends I have made, and have come to love. The girls, that gave me the experience if a Japanese club life, and the family bonds that come with it. 12 quickly came along, which was when I had to return. I grabbed my bag, and was off. I wanted to make a quick escape, because for the first time in all of the goodbyes I have had to keep saying these days, I really felt generally sad about this one. But the Ko Ninensee girls walked me to the door. Inches before I was free, the tears came. This was it. I was really saying goodbye. EVeryone began to tear up, but stopped when they listened to Taco, who was literally howling. She sounded like a wolf on a drugs. And we all burst into laughter at her. One that came from the stomach and left pains as we quite literally rolled on the floor. Taco couldn't stop, even though she was aware we were all laughing at her. She went on howling, "Judi! Don't go! We will miss you!" I gave her a big hug, while forcibly suppressing my laughter. Instead of saying goodbye, I told them I would see them all again soon. Which is true. They are all going to come and watch me dance in Yosakoi, and afterwards try to come to the airport. I walked away in a chuckle, listening to Taco continue howling, until I heard Chiake's voice, "SHut up you big baby!" And that's how I will always remember our goodbye.