Earth

I smelt of earth earlier today. It was time to cut the grass, and not simply by pushing a large mechanical object over the lawn. Rather, this cutting was intimate, a true "kasu o kiru," utilizing handheld clippers and a sweaty determination.

I started with the front corner of the lawn, cutting grass as needed, pulling roots as desired. Gladly, the mozzies joined in on the activity, catching me at awkward moments, though their demise was typically iminent; foolish that they fail to realize each day grants me more immunity to their venom. And I labored on, clearing a good half of the lawn, the yard, the patch of earth that is my own, rented for the time being.

So it was that I smelled of earth and sweat and my own blood, swiftly extracted from the flying leeches that failed to move out of my swat. I smelt of earth.

After filling one bag full of clipped grass and weeds, I realized I was out of the convenient containers, so I sauntered off to the local store to purchase some more of the village-approved bags for burnable rubbish. On the way home, I noticed the clouds had taken a slight golden tinge, so I went in for my camera, the white balance set to auto this time, no longer snapping away at flourescence unexisting. I took some mediocre shots. Happily, a neighbor and future student of mine came by, and intrigued, took up the camera and started shooting wildly. Is it vain to say I was glad he turned the camera on me for a bit? I've been needing some good candid photos; I feel like he did a good job, especially with the flash and mild catch-light from the setting sun.

Anyway, during this process of pose and shoot, a kindly old man, Nakamura-san, called me over to share some of his time. He led me to his nephew's home, the previously known Mibo-san, where ikukan and tako were laid before me, with awamori and biiru. Luckily, I knew enough to jaunt the 10 metres home and pick up my Chicago White Sox peanut omiyage, scoring points with Mibo-san, the baseball fan of the century. (did you know the Boston Red Sox are much like the Sanshin Tigers, while the despised Yankees much like the despised Giants?) Amidst the early flowings of alcohol, we conversed and learned a little more about each other. Each word perceived by me was like a small badge of progress, insignificant in and of itself, though layered with the others, a formidable mark of fluency yet to be obtained.

Nakamura-san took his leave slightly early - such is the life of one 80 years old and still genki! Mibo-san and I continued to drink, to eat, to learn. Of notice to me was the strength of the liquor provided: 12 oz. of beer, 16 oz. of beer, finally 8 oz. of awamori...clearly, I was climbing the ladder. Having received the OK from my supervisor for a hima na hi this Friday, I indulged and enjoyed my time with Mibo-san and family. Kaori-san, Mibo-san's wife, invited me to lunch tomorrow amidst the departing phrases. I look forward to meeting some of the teachers at Arume school, my middle-sized combined elementary/junior high school.

Just when I thought all the other ALTs had standing invitations to neighbors houses, I find that standing around with a camera in hand - much like a lost tourist - evokes quite friendly reactions. And if Mibo-san is correct, in two years time, I'll be nihongo pera pera, and if three years is in the cards, hougen pera pera. I can't wait! Waisu desu.

PS - errors in attempts at Japanese are probably existent; suck it up.

Obon

Tonight marks the end of Obon, the Japanese Buddhist day spent honoring ancestors. While my description and understanding of Obon are lacking, my appreciation for the activities and celebrations are not.

I spent the evening with the my supervisor and the family of kocho-sensei, the principal of Higashi School. She had extended the offer to me several weeks ago, prior to Ben's departure even (Ben, being my predecessor on the JET Programme). So the weeks passed and Obon arrived. I didn't know what to expect: cleaning the graves of ancestors in their honor, ceremoniously bidding the visiting spirits farewell, large amounts of good food?

It turns out that our visit was a shorter one, stopping for a few hours to eat, meet, chat, and then depart. Kocho-sensei lives with her husband in Ogimi-son, a village bordering Higashi-son up here in the north of Okinawa. It's my understanding (this is what I rely on these days, as true understanding is hard to come by when language is a barrier) that her oldest son and daughter live in Okinawa, with her youngest daughter residing in Tokyo. They were all very kind and seemed pleased to have me as their guest. The daughters came to the rescue for some key translations, though I did rely mostly on my basic (yet expanding!) Japanese ability.

After the fine meal, Chinen-sensei drove me home. On the way, he told me of tonight's eisa, the evening-long dance that would be performed by Higashi-son's seinenkai, the youth group of which each village most likely has. Just moments ago they passed the danchi (my neighborhood) with drums in sync, lyrics drifting from the nearby kominkan, or community center. I don't know if I can say how these short moments make me feel so amazed! Perhaps it's the realization that I'm not on a tourist trip or a short stay with a friend - I'm here, living in the country in which I have so badly wanted to live for a number of years. And with school starting in a week, I think the feeling of being a part of it all will really get me. *cheer* I'm so excited!

So today ends a good weekend. Several ALTs from the south of Okinawa spent the weekend up here away from the crowds of the city. And we did some amazing stuff! Saturday we started with a visit to a local beach, the one minutes from my front door. Sunday we joined several other ALTs and Chikara-san, a local cool-guy who really is just living a carefree style, on a visit to the northern tip of Okinawa. Chikara-san showed us a secret overlook he says he takes very few people to; clearly this was an honor. Snorkeling followed shortly at a nice secluded beach. And today we hiked up to Hiji Otaki, the waterfall in northern Ogimi-son. The exercise was needed and the cold fresh water was highly invigorating. If only every week started like this. Waisu desu.

kanuu

It's easy for me to tell you that I'm living in Okinawa. It's going to be harder for me to tell you what a day is like, for many reasons. Ask yourself, when was the last time you had identical days? You see the problem; it's impossible. So I'm going to tell you about one day, this day, today, okay?

Well, let's start with last night. I was sitting in the Board of Education's (BoE) office when I realized, around 5:00, that the weather was beautiful. I sent a note to Cliff (fellow ALT) asking what his plans were for dinner, if he'd be interested in something. He was, so I traveled to Ogimi bearing gifts of gyoza, broccoli, and Orion (Okinawa's beer). Cliff did a stellar job preparing everything, including the vegetable-heavy miso shiru; unfortunately, he burned his inner-index finger and palm on the poorly designed saucepan. I wrapped up the serving work, which was not hard, and we had a great meal.

Dinner taken care of, we watched a very random show highlighting the past decade of musical hits and Olympic/World Championship track and field accomplishments. The show perplexed us, though we found the Japanese subtitles useful in expanding our vocabulary slightly. And speaking of words, there are a few of us signing up to take the Japanese Language Proficiency Test this December 2. It should be another great reason to get together with some cool people. I'm confident in my ability to pass 4-kyu (the easiest level), but 3-kyu may be a better challenge and a chance to accelerate my learning. Still have a few days to decide.

To close the night, Elina (also an Ogimi ALT) came over and we played Trivial Pursuit Millennium Edition. That was a blast, as most things are with those two. Hmm, perfect segue into today.

I went in early, though really normal time, at 8:30. Began the never-ending study and wondered how I was going to ask Chinen-sensei (my supervisor) about my desire to attend the kayaking event that Cliff and Elina had mentioned the night before. As I'm sitting there looking up a few key words (kayak, want to go, nothing to do but study), he comes up to me and says we're going kayaking after lunch. Woot! It must have been my mental signals at work. How they transmitted in Japanese I'll never know.

Noon rolled around, I dashed home and had a quick lunch, pulled on the board shorts and smeared on the sunscreen. Though we didn't start kayaking right away (we toured the Higashi Village 博物館 (hakubutsukan, museum), when we did arrive we paired up, listened to a few key instructions, and then embarked on our leisurely journey through the mangrove of Gesashi, a southern portion of Higashi V. My partner was Tomomi-san, a kind lady with a decent grasp of key English words for which I didn't know the Japanese. We spoke mostly Japanese, and it felt good! "I can communicate," I exclaimed in my own mind...I have no idea what communicate is in Japanese.

A good day indeed, followed up by zenzai - an Okinawan treat of shaved ice, syrup, beans, and mochi - perfect for a hot day and a tired mood. I hitched a ride back with Tsurumi-san in the back of one of the museum trucks and enjoyed the warm enveloping air as we passed the ocean on our way back into Kawata, my portion of Higashi V. Tonight will probably be an early night - I'm kind of dirty, pretty tired, and ready for a good weekend with visits from peeps from Naha. Waisu desu.

Higashi-son, a village

Japan. Okinawa-ken. Higashi-son. I made it. I MADE IT!

I'm so excited to be here it's hard to even say how much so. You'd have to come visit and just see it all, experience the rural island life, the smothering humidity and spattering rain, the delicious food, the great scenery, the gorgeous drives, the neighbors and the coworkers and the ALTs, the colorful festivals, the traditional dance, even the well-arranged fireworks. I'll stop the gushing for a moment.

Could I have asked for a better placement? No! I knew the JET Programme would take care of the details and I'm quite glad how they did. Requesting nothing but a rural locale, I have been put in what I hear is the best destination in all of Japan. Reasons include the relaxed Okinawan lifestyle, the linen shirts that substitute as jacket and tie for formal events, and sub-tropical weather.

As the first two weeks passed quickly and were haywire, memory marred by erratic sleep and prescribed drinking, I may try to play catch up at a later point. As for now, relax in knowing that I am very happy, very comfortable, and very well tanned on the forearms and lower legs. My place feels more like home every day and I get paid tomorrow, meaning the couch I've been eying is finally mine. Also going to stock up on sweet, sweet cereal and milk; my cultural portrayal might as well start with food. Waisu desu.