Can you believe this ish???

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/6086374.stm

In other news, I killed another huge spider today. This time, it was in my shower. It was a scene right out of Psycho. I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I'm looking forward to the snowfall, i.e. the bug genocide that will soon occur. But under no circumstances am I looking foward to the cold, damp temperatures INSIDE my apartment...

The Importance of Being Important...

ALT. Assitant language teacher. Assistant language teacher. That's what I am here in Japan. Some days, usually at the elementary school, I am actually running the show. From conception to design to execution of English communication lessons, I am the boss. Though I am supposed to engage in team teaching with the homeroom teacher at the elementary school, I only do this in 1 out of 6 grades. And that's fine. I like being in charge and having the responsibility. It gives me something to do when normally there would be nothing. I research games, make worksheets and handouts, select the singing music and consult textbooks for inspiration and direction. Most of the time, my lessons are the bomb rather than a bomb. I'll be blunt - English is not the most important, or even an important subject in the curriculum, so after the first few initial months of learning the ropes, I was figuratively, and sometimes literally, on my own. Sometimes, I'm all alone in the classroom (a big no-no), managing the little ones, and I like it better that way. During these times, I'm not an ALT, I'm the language teacher.

This is at the elementary school.

At the junior high school, it's entirely different. My JTE runs the show. He plans everything and leads the classroom, and that's fine, because that's his job. He's a trained English teacher and I'm his assistant, and that's also fine. But what's not fine is how I'm often relegated to the sidelines while he goes over grammar points, vocabulary and verb tenses only in Japanese. I've wasted hours over the past year and a bit just standing there, watching the interaction and trying hard not to daydream lest he chooses to utilize my knowledge and have me join the conversation.

What is difficult for me, and what continues to be a recurring theme in this job is how unimportant I am. I'll admit, I feel somewhat important to the kids and I'm proud with how far I've come with them, and not necessarily in terms of their English skills. And at the end of the day, I know it's what matters the most. But it's that feeling of being useless, of being expendable, that eats away at me.

I think it wouldn't so bad if I wasn't so damn lonely in the day time. The Japanese office culture is SO different than back home. People are perpetually busy and have very little time to do things other than what they're doing (however, I've also seen that the teachers I work with are amazingly inefficient with their time). I do speak to the non-English speakers, but our conversations are so brief due to the language barrier, but it's cool that we at least try. From time to time, I have really good, non-work related conversations with the science teacher and my JTE, and my JTE has apologized for not talking to me more (which was pretty sweet). When we got a new Japanese teacher who is fluent in English, I was so happy and my JTE was like "It's good that you've now got someone to talk to", but she's just as busy as the rest of them. I'm dying to get to know her better, but she's got a job to do so I'm on my own.

I'm not sure if I can adequately explain all of this without sounding like spoiled brat, but it really, really hurts. But I'm thankful for the internet, this blog, my books, the telephone and the weekends. I'm also thankful for those times when I feel useful, like I'm a real part of the team. Last week, all the other teachers were busy so my surrogate dad asked me to take a group of 10 first-graders (7 year olds) to the bus stop and wait for their buses to arrive. That was the first time it had happened and I had several little heart attacks during the 20 minutes we were waiting by the road, but it all went off without a hitch. They got on their buses, each yelling "Sayonara, Kaki-sensei" and I yelled back, waving and calling out each of their names. For me, this was a big something, out of a day filled with a whole lot of nothing.

I'll be handing in my recontracting papers next week when I have a free moment to to discuss it with my JTE. The NO box will be firmly checked. I was going to wait until the new year, but there's no point. I'm not going to change my mind. I was going to hang on to them , just in case, but no matter what happens, I'll have to leave. While I believe that work is something you do in order to live, I need to feel like I'm worth something, like I'm earning my pay. Like I'm important.

So frustrated...

I've been feeling a little restricted for a little while which has led me to feeling frustrated with living in Japan in general, and Gifu in particular. Don't get me wrong: living in the country has given me a sense of relaxation and peace that have been elusive for the past few years, but sometimes, it's just not enough. And particularly on the weekends. Back home, there'd be a multitude of places to go and things to see every day of the week, and while I spent quite a bit of the past year exploring and traveling, a newly enforced budget and a desire to stay a little closer to home has made for more weekends in either tiny Neo, or Dave's larger town, Ena. This is nice, but sometimes you just want to just go somewhere that doesn't take an hour to get to. Or sometimes you just want to see something that isn't just fully about Japanese culture. You know - maybe a play or an art exhibit or something from another part of the world. Luckily, on Saturday, the crew and I went to Nagoya (over an hour away) to have dinner at a Brazilian restaurant, Nova Urbana.

In Montreal, I started a little dinner club with my closest girlfriends and we christened ourselves Dining Divas. We met once every month and laughed, got ourselves up-to-date with each others lives, exchanged cute little $5 gifts, and dined on delicious meals and drank copious amounts of wine. I really miss those times, and with such crazy schedules with my friends here, I decided to make a Japanese edition (without the $5 gifts).

So on Saturday, Fab Food Fiends (FFF) had our first dinner and I think it was a success. While the meat distribution was pretty disappointing (like 3 or 4 small pieces of incredibly delicious meats), there was live music (by a bonafide Brazilian band) and live dancing (including some Capoeira - Dave and Ethan, remember that god awful movie Monkey brought over one year when we went up north? Yeah, it was kinda like that, but with a Japanese chick in a low cut shirt and ass pants, and no blood), spending time with close friends was pretty sweet. And for a very brief time, I felt like I wasn't in Japan.

I'm in the mood to vent, so I'm going to fire off a few things that have been frustrating me. Here goes:

• The high cost of everything, particularly fruits and vegetables. I've been here for over a year and I still get major sticker shock at the shops. I've got my mom's voice in my head saying "Oh hell no am I paying that much for mangos!" It also makes window shopping not fun at all. I bought 8 apples today because I thought I should treat myself. Unfortunately, it cost me nearly $7. One day, a co-worker told me Japanese fruits cost so much because they taste better than those found in Western countries. I looked at her sideways. You know what was going on in my head: Does KN gotta choke a bitch?
• Japanese TV. An exercise in banality, stupidity and horrid WTF-ness. I've seen too many shows featuring Pan-kun, a chimpanzee forced to wear clothing and participate in an array of humiliating tasks. Where is PETA?
• Horrendous clothing. Slouch socks. Ass shorts. Jeans with part of the thigh cut out and a garter belt in its place. Bride of Frankenstein hair. Obviously too tight/too big/too uncomfortable shoes. And people have the nerve to stare at me. I can't change my skin colour. But you can definitely change your stupid outfit.
• Ridiculous driving techniques. Arbitrary use of hazards and stopping on one lane highways.
• People who don't slow down when speaking to you when it's obvious you aren't getting what they are saying, even when you ask them to slow down.
• Katakana English. I-ee hay-tu ee-tu. If you had to read that 4 times to get it, welcome to my world.
• Losing my English, to the point where I make mistakes teaching English to my students.
• Not having a decent selection of English books close by. I've kissed my Amazon privileges goodbye for the sake of leaving Japan with no debt.
• A lack of delcious, non-Japanese food. I'm an amateur foodie. Food matters to me. I like fusion and all, but not when the the common denominator of the cuisine is Japanese. I can think of 3.5 restaurant dining experiences here where I've nearly wet myself from having food-gasms. That ain't enough.
• People, not everything is sugoi (awesome), kawaii (cute), or omoshiroii (interesting or fun). Get some new adjectives..

Bien, maintenant je suis fatiguee. Ah oui, je manque le francais. C'est une peu d'une surprise pour moi, specialement que je suis anglophone. Mais franchement, je pense que je besoin un peu de variete, un peu de excitement. A ce moment, tout est tres...boring. Je suis desolee pour le mauvais francais et le manque des accents...

It was a good day...

I had a really good Saturday this past weekend. Dave and I woke up early to start our respective days - I was heading to my first washi ningyo (Japanese paper doll) making class in Seki and Lord Blackwood was off to play paintball in Mie-ken with a bunch of socialites from the Gifu/Seino areas. I was pretty stoked at the prospect of doing some bonafide Japanese arts and crafts and set out in my car to make the 1 hour drive. The class lived up to my expectations and then some. A gang of rag tag gaikokujin (foreigners) descended upon the home of the very amiable Chisako-san, a radiant Japanese woman who has been teaching doll classes, mostly to foreigners in English, for about 5 years. One look around her war room, and it's obvious that she is a master in the way of the doll. There were five students in total and she helped us create dolls as beautiful and unique as each of us. The doll I made was called the Temari, which translates to a ball wound tightly with colourful threads, which is what my doll is holding. It took us about 3 hours to make our masterpieces (made entirely out of paper) and we stopped about three-quarters through to break for lunch. We headed to a nearby Italian restaurant that had real bread to dip in real olive oil and I was in heaven. The pasta was pretty Japanesey, as was the dessert, but the bread, oh the bread, how it made up for it.

The class itself was definitely pleasurable for me. I'm not a very crafty girl, though I knit as a hobby and can be creative when inspired, so this was a real treat for me. Already, I feel that washi ningyo making will be a definite highlight of my time in Japan and I intend of making Chisako-san's class a priority for me.

Saturday was also a good day because I saw a battalion of monkeys in a field. It was awe-some. At first, as I was passing by, I thought they were statues because they seemed to be frozen, but I quickly realized they were in fact quite alive, so I reversed on the 1 lane road, stopped my car and put my hazards on and stared in wonder and amusement. I also cursed myself for not having my camera with me. BLAST! I took a few crappy pics on my cell phone camera, but they were less than inspiring. I learned a very good lesson that day - always have my camera on me.

Later on in the day, I hooked up with the crew and inspected their gruesome bruises from paintball. D-dawg had a particularly nasty one on his stomach, but unfortunately, I didn't think to pick up my camera to capture the heinous wound. I also didn't think to document a particularly hair-raising experience on Friday night. After I returned home from a welcome/goodbye enkai (party), I was getting to take a shower when I noticed something black and very fast zip by. Since I had just taken off my glasses, I was as blind as a field mouse so ran to my bedroom to get my specs. Armed with vision, I cast my eyes in the direction of where the thing ran to. To my shock and horror. I recognized the intruder to be a spider. A large, large spider. I screamed and hacked, yelling for David to come and save me from the beast. After much screaming, jumping up and down on the bed, near tears and a couple of false hits, my hero slayed the arachnid and deftly cleaned up the carcass and its entrails from my tatami mat*. It took me some time to recover from this incident, but I'm on the mend as I valiantly slept in my bed last night.

Since I've realized that I've been slacking on taking photos, I will be more consistant with photographing everything from the mundane to the exciting. I intend on leaving Japan with quite a few scrapbooks and for that I've got to keep snapping.

I'm out.

* While I'm usually a very truthful writer, the intimate facts of this story had to be changed to protect the innocents. I will say, however, I was not the only one screaming on that fateful night.

10 months left...

While I was in Montreal, people would often ask me how much time I had left in Japan, and after rapid calculations in my head, I came to the above answer. I can hardly believe 14 months have passed since I left my warm cocoon of 5-a-7s and near complacency, and now I can hardly believe I have 10 months to go. I'm often reminded that THE END IS NIGH everytime I look into the faces of my kids. I got my re-contracting papers today, and much to my chagrin, my JTE had forgotten that I spoke to him about my plans post-JET, as in after July 2007, so he was dismayed to learn that I will most probably* be leaving Japan 10 months from now. I have until February 2 to submit my signed papers, so they're just going to have to wait til then.

Other than that, I had a great weekend. Unfortunately, at this moment, I don't have any pics to share (I'm hoping to steal some from the hot Scot), but we went to one and a half festivals. The first was a Mino paper lantern festival, which was beautiful. The second was the Ogaki festival, which was celebrating god knows what and we happened to stumble upon. It was just cool to see some lovely people I haven't seen in a while and get to know some others a bit better.

My main squeeze has a very funny blog that offers a different take on Japan and life in general. Check it out: http://adventuresofblackwood.blogspot.com Each new entry keeps taking the place of my favorite one.

Also, read this bit of poetry that knocked my socks off the other day: http://dancingchaos.blogspot.com/2006/09/on-cover-up-girl.html Sigh, I was missing Coco Cafe at Jello Bar right about then.

I'm out.

* probably as in "I'm saying this right now because I don't want to disappoint you, but I'm leaving Japan in 10 months."

SexyBack...

This was the theme song for me and Dave's time in Montreal. I'm not a huge fan of Justin's but damn, that song is addictive.

As usual, my time in Montreal just zipped by, but with the added pressure of getting ready for Ayanna and Raj's wedding and showing Dave around (it was his first time in the "New World"), life just zipped by in hyperspeed. This trip to Montreal filled me with a myriad of emotions: I felt happy to be home and surrounded by all things familiar, I felt a familiar sense of stress from being pulled in so many directions, guilt from simply not having enough time to see EVERYBODY, shock and sorrow from the shooting at Dawson, a desire to not live in Montreal again, and then sadness when it was time to say goodbye again. Overall though, it was fantastic to see those I love and introduce David to everyone who matter so much to me.

We did so many things, went to so many places and met so many people. We vistied the usual tourist hotspots like the Old Port, Mont-Royal, Downtown and The Main, we ate at Le Biftheque and Schwartz's and made a special trip to Ottawa where we visited Parliament and had dinner with sweet Steph. I also did a couople of firsts: I visited St. Joseph's Oratory (stunning) and ate a smoked meat sandwich at Schwartz's (delicious, much to my surprise. I don't really like smoked meat. Yes, I was born in Montreal). We also hit a local brewery (3 Brasseurs(?) on St. Denis) but unfortunately we did not have time for a proper French meal (Julia, I was gutted. We tried, we really did!).


Luckily, however, Dave had a poutine and had a party in his mouth. We also had some delicious West Indian at Curry House (chicken curry, how I've missed you), and had mouth-gasms at V.I.P. (REAL Chinese food, how I've missed you). It was my 2 sisters, my mom, Dave and I, and we ordered about 10 dishes and finished EVERYTHING. While I was disappointed that we couldn't go to Hot and Spicy because it was closed, V.I.P. was exquisite.

I'm not going to go on and on about this trip because honestly, it feels so far away from now. I'm back at school, nearly over jet lag, and I just blinked and now my calendar for October is full. It was nice to come back to school and be greeted with "Ohisashiburri desu!" Long time, no see. It was especially nice to get greeted with hugs from co-workers and the younger students. I really felt loved and missed.

But hanging it with the crew was pretty sweet. I want to send a special shot out to Dahlia and Steven, who put Dave and I up for nearly a week and were the perfect hosts. They opened up their beautiful (and spacious) home to us and made us feel like family. I've always thought of Dal and I as sisters even while I was going to university in Ottawa and she in Montreal. Weeks would go by with no word then we'd fall back into things so easily. D, I'm so happy to have reveled in your good news and I'm so happy for you. Thanks for everything.

That's about it for now. I'll leave you with some pics to peruse. Time is starting to wind down and filling my head with all kinds of ish...Will share soon...

Oh yeah, if you're a natural Black woman, a fashionista, or someone with time on their hands and loves to read quality writing, then I heartily recommend www.afrobella.com This is my new favorite site and I've been spending hours reading everything on it. She hits the nail on the head on Black icons, hair issues, age issues while reviewing beauty products. I don't feel like I'm wasting time when I read this site. I feel like I'm learning!

"Muthafucking ants on the muthafucking plane..."

I'm back in Japan, back "home", after a brief sojurn to Montreal, and getting here was one helluva trip. Montreal itself was great, though filled with emotion, and I got to explore the city through a tourist's eyes as I took David around. It was his first time in the "new world" and we did the city good and even headed to Ottawa for a day. It was a freaking whirlwind (I'll post all about it a couple of days), but it was nothing compared to leaving Montreal and trying to get back to Nippon ville. Ok, Dave and I got to the airport 2 hours before our 8 a.m. flight on Monday morning. I thought 2 hours would be enough time for us to walk the security gauntlet but I was wrong. I'm not going to get into the facking debacle, especially since I re-enacted it for my 8th graders today, but it was retardedly and unnecessarily long. After running from one end of the terminal to the other, with 5 minutes to spare, Dave and I boarded the plane only to find out that we would be waiting for some poor suckers who were held up in customs. 40 minutes later we were off. The only thing was we only had 35 minutes to make our connection to Osaka. Yeah...we know how this ends, yes? A sprint through the terminal, a garbled question, a negative response and A LOT OF SWEARING. FUCK FUCK FUCK! SHIT! MUTHAFUCKA! (My personal fave.)

But my dear readers, things worked out for your heroine. OR DID THEY??? Dave and I were comped a night's stay at the always pleasurable Days Inn (thanks to Dave's stellar negotiation skills - "Is there any way you can give us a free hotel room?" said in the sexiest Scottish accent EVER.), we faffed around in Fort Worth, Texas, ate a "Chinese" buffet in the hotel's lobby, had fajitas and burgers at Chili's, saw Dr. Phil, caught the Jet Li flick "Fearless" at the theatre. We had a pretty good time interacting with the locals in BumFuck, Texas. We had an awesome night's sleep (only my 2nd since landing in North America) and made our plane to Osaka. However, by this time, my sore throat and running nose had turned into a full blown cold and the 14 hour ride was not pretty. Landing became an issue because my sinuses were so blocked up and filled with nasty that I felt like my head was going to explode. Remember that scene in Mission Impossible III when Keri Russell is screaming about the pain in her head and she's convulsing, then that chip in her brain explodes turning her brain to mush and fucking up her eyes? Yeah, I was sure that was going to be me. I'm not one to make scenes in public, especially those involving tears, but man, I was hurting so bad and there was so much pressure in my head, that I just let myself go. 3 stewardesses were tending to me and poor Dave was watching me lose my mind but still trying to help me to breathe and unblock my ears to relieve some of the pressure. I shudder thinking about it...

Anyway, I deboarded my plane with my head intact and grateful to have to experience behind me. I should have been giving thanks AFTER I left the airport. Our luggage, which we hadn't seen since we left Montreal effectively 3 days before reappeared in Osaka. Mine was fine, but Dave's was infested with ants! Now, Dave is usually a calm and rational man, but he lost it. That was the proverbial straw. More swearing ensued. Dave had his bag searched by customs. I think this trip took 5 years off his life.

This has turned into a rant. My head hurts. I'm out.

When did this become my new normal?

Takoyaki (fried octopus balls) made from scratch the other day in my apartment, with my neighbour and co-worker. It looks kinda pretty, no? Cutting up octopus tentacles. Moi??? I could hardly believe it myself...

I'm heading to MTL tomorrow for a couple of weeks, to be an attendant in my best friend's wedding. I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond to the comments from the last post due to me being B-U-S-Y. Thanks to everyone who read and commented. You gave me a lot of food for thought...Yeah, a lot.

Keep well and will post soon.

Female Chauvinist Pigs...

"We decided long ago that the Male Chauvinist Pig was an unenlightened rube, but the Female Chauvinist Pig (FCP) has risen to a kind of exalted status. She is post-feminist. She is funny. She gets it. She doesn't mind cartoonish stereotypes of female sexuality, and she doesn't mind a carttonishly macho response to them. The FCP asks: Why throw away your boyfriend's Playboy in a freedome trah can when you could be partying at the Mansion? Why worry about disgusting or degrading when you could be givin - or getting - a lap dance yourself? Why try to beat them when you can join them?..."

I'm currently reading Female Chauvinist Pigs: Women and the Rise of Raunch Culture by Ariel Levy, and after reading this passage, I asked myself "Am I one of those women?" I consider myself a nouvelle feminist, one to fight for women's rights and argue against the patriarchy, but down enough to understand and appreciate what goes on in the male mind. I can talk about porn, masturbation, bikini waxes then switch to anti-discrimination laws and argue for equality in the same breath. I've heard and seen a lot, maybe too much, and I admit that it sometimes gets to be a bit too much when hanging with the boys. But I wonder where it leaves me? Am I really doing my part to advance the cause or am I just a chauvinist pig with breasts?

Yesterday, someone asked me if I was offended by the representation of the "voodoo" woman in Pirates of the Caribbean 2 and I replied no, because voodoo practioners are usually African or Caribbean then launched into a diatribe about how we as non-whites are hypersensitized by media portrayals of us. I think the film Crash did a good job of showing Blacks in several tones and nuances, but I admit the film was an exception to the rule. Usually though, I'm not outraged by the stereotypical portrayals shown in the media because, to an extent, they're true. There's a part in Crash where a White character says to a Black one "Don't you just hate Black people?" He went on to rant that Blacks seem to mess up the opportunities they have by shooting themselves in the foot, be it through drugs, violence and other such shit. The bad apples just bring everyone down and those are the fools you see on the 6:00 o'clocking news "wile'in out". And that's the image that gets perpetrated in the media by Blacks themselves! 50, Luda, Buckshot, whatever, you know who I'm talking about.

It's like the proliferation of the use of the N-word. I hate the word, but it's everywhere now, used by Negroes, Caucasians, Latinos and Asians. I don't care if you drop the "er" and add an "a", it's still offensive, but its been appropriated to the point that it's colloquial. I remember "The Nigger Family" sketch in The Chappelle Show, and it was just the N-word back and forth, and Dave Chappelle kinda looks down and I think he says "I'm dying inside." I feel that way sometimes when I think/talk about feminist/Black issues. It's everywhere, and while a part of you wants to be included, on the inside, if you will, another part feels bad that you're just a token that's been given a backstage pass.

Am I making sense? What do you think? Do you think our generation is more about trying to join them (the establishment) than beat them? Men/Whites are invited to discuss.

Year 1 in Japan: A Retrospective...

Before leaving Montreal to come to Japan, I was repeatedly warned that this experience would change me in numerous ways, some big and some not so big. I believed my friends and was open to changes. I had some things to improve on in my life and was looking forward to leaving a city that didn't hold anything new and exciting for me...just more of the same old, same old. Of course, my friends and family were my anchors, but sometimes, you just need to float along by yourself to make things happen. So I took a big chance and did something totally foreign for me - I left security. I had a permanent job with benefits, autonomy and a certain degree of power, a car and the fast track to owning my own condominium apartment. I was almost THERE, but I had to be honest with myself and say that it wasn't enough. I've never lived in a different country and I've never explored a culture radically different from my own. Life in Montreal was fun, don't get me wrong, but it just felt so...small. I used to think that MTL was the centre of the universe and you couldn't get me to change my mind. But after about 2 years of living in Montreal, having returned from university in Ottawa, and visiting Ghana and Japan, I finally realized that there was more to see. After my friend Cheryl moved to Japan on a whim and told me about her experiences, and then seeing an ad for JET in the Concordia student paper, I went to the information session to see what was what. It certainly sounded good so I applied and waited the 5 months to finally hear that I got in.
I moved from dreaming to planning in no time and spent the months between February (when I heard about it) to July (when I boarded the plane) getting myself together: I went to Cuba, I got surgery to correct a long time problem, I got my braces off and I bought tons of clothes and beauty supplies. I said my tearful goodbyes (I lost it at my Sayonara BBQ) and left. Now, a year later, I think I'm ready to share with you what I've learned and how I've changed to date (in no particular order of importance):

1. Being illiterate ain't no joke. Imagine not being to be able to read anything, understand anything, be able to communicate. Having to stop and figure out which bathroom you can enter or what's what at the grocery store. Imagine trying to find your way around town and having NO idea what the characters mean. A year in, I'm not fluent nor can I read everything, but I'm a helluva lot better. I can put some words together and have them make sense. I can figure out a couple of kanji in a phrase and put two and two together (sometimes). I can write little notes in Japanese and not be worried about the meaning being lost. Being illiterate here has made me more aware of the plight of Canadians who can't read or write. But Jesus Christ, if I can go from English to Japanese (I most definitely do not have a head for languages), others can too. They just need the right motivation - like wanting to eat food or leave their house (so not trying to be glib here).

2. I actually like kids. And I can get along with them. Maybe one day, I'll have a few of my own.

3. I don't like to be constantly reminded that I'm Black (AKA a superfreak). I know I'm Black. I have mirrors in my apartment and pictures of myself everywhere. I know I'm different. I just don't like to have absolute strangers point it out at the supermarket, restaurants, toilets, festivals, on the train, you get the idea. I had one girl, one of my elementary students, tell me it was a pity that my skin was so dark. I'm confident in who I am and in my darkness, but goddammit, stop the insanity! (No need to comment about this point unless you want to piss me off). Also, unless you're a close friend looking for a bit of cross-cultural understanding, I don't want to fucking hear about which hip hop artists you like, how you like to get "crunked", and asking me who is better: Cube or Dre.

4. Despite the previous point, I've become a more patient person. You kind of have to be to express yourself in a foreign language and deal with the same questions/statments over and over: you can use chopsticks! can you eat fish? you're so tall! (I'm only 5'7" - barely). do you like rice? I just smile and vent later rather than launching into a sermon on the evils of cultural insulation.
5. I'm strong. Stronger than I ever thought. I don't mean to brag, but it's a testament to one's will and strength to live in a foreign country. I'm so proud of myself.

6. Living abroad has given me valuable insight to what my parent's went through when they left Ghana for Montreal over 30 years ago. They left behind the English/Ga/Twi and traded it in for an unstable French environment. It was hard for them, but now I better understand and love them even more.

7. Since making the decision to go natural (hairstyle), I've found a new definition of beauty for myself and in turn, acceptance. I don't need to conform the mainstream's idea of beauty as it is skewed, particularly for women of African descent. I touch my kinky hair and am awed by its loveliness. I look at myself and see new power in my eyes, nose, lips. I feel like I'm finally who I'm supposed to be and I love it. Geez, I had to come to Japan (with their bare representation of Black people) to finally GET this.

8. I hate, hate, hate bus tours. I've been on two - one to Kyoto and the other to Tottori. Never fucking again.

9. I've learned the power of taking time out just to breathe. My eyes are open all the time, and for the most part, I like what I'm seeing. Without this time, I doubt I would have figured out what career I want to pursue and taking the steps to realize my dream. Plus, having the chance to just read, without distraction has been blissful.

10. In my village, like other towns and cities in Japan, we have time chimes, to signify what time of day it is. At 7:00 a.m. I wake up to Edelweiss (I shit you not), at noon, I can hear the sweet sound of the ocarina, and at 6:00 (5:00 in the winter), I can hear Moon River. Other time chimes can't compare. I can't live without them now.

11. I've learned (finally) that more often than not, it's better to leave things in the past and just let go entirely. The lessons must remain, but the memories associated with the lessons are better left in the past.

12. Food. I really love good food. This is not something new.

13. A travel lust has been awakened inside me. Visiting China and living in Japan is just the tip of the iceberg.

14. I've finally found what I've been looking for, and it's nourishing, beautiful and all mine. Refer to the previous post for a clue.

15. I've changed in the way I let the actions and words of other people sit in my mind. Where I used to obsess over these things, I chew on them for a little while and spit out the fat while ingesting the good stuff. Really, living in this country forces you to let a lot of things simply roll off your back.

16. A smile goes such a long, long way. Being friendly, courteous, understanding, open and outgoing has made this placement reach its full potential.

I feel like I've come a long way from the days I would just cry in my living room, feeling the cold eclipse of homesickness all over me. My days and nights are much more full and my calendar is full of circles and stars and memos. I'm extremely blessed to have such an amazing support network from coast to coast, and in Canada, New York and Ghana. The Motosu and Ono crew have made so happy and been friends in ways I didn't expect. But the most surprising thing for me, the thing that I would never have predicted happening was meeting the Scotsman. Can I really explain it all now, on this public space? I would prefer not to. But he knows. And I know. And that's all that matters.

Love is...

the thought that has been consumming my mind for the past few weeks, and no big surprise as I've been contemplating my time here, looking back at my past and setting my sights on the future. No big surprise since I've been reading "a story of irreconcilable love and infidelities", each page burning a hole in my conciousness, forcing me to think about the love in my life. No big surprise as the word has been swimming in my mouth and spilling from my lips more often lately. I've recently finished reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera and I can't really begin to adequately relate a synopsis of this book, nor explain its affect on me. It just is. But maybe if I post a couple of passages for you, you might be able to understand where I'm coming from: "He suddenly
recalled the famous myth from Plato's Symposium: People were hermaphrodites until God split them in two, and now all the halves wander the world over seeking one another. Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost." If you knew my mind, you'd know that I never bought into the myth of the "soul mate". In fact, I hate the words, the idea. I've always thought of it as a made up word, conjured up my marketing executives and authors of lonely hearts books in an effort to make people feel less than they are if they are single. To me, the idea of the "soul mate" was invented to create a feeling of dissatisfaction in the individual so that they'd have that wanting and the desire to buy into goods and services to make them more desirable to "catch" their soul mate. BUT, I do believe in the idea of deep connection, between male and females, romantic attachments or not. I believe that there are those special people that can touch your life and turn your world into blinding beauty, catching you off guard to the point you weep with delight and disbelief that you are so blessed. I believe that we are all looking for something, an unknown element that will just fit, without explanation, when it's right. We want that Jerry Maguire moment, to really feel it when "you complete me."


Sublime. Divine. Celestial. Love is my religion. And I can finally see it nearly everyday, in every way. In the wind that blows through the trees. In the river that pushes past the road. In the clouds where I swear I can see God (I've rejected the idea of God as a man. Now I'm more comfortable with the Creator as creamy, cumulous wisps of smoke and water). I can feel it in the rush of blood and pleasure to all corners of my extremities, my heart and my brain, submerging me in wave after wave of bliss, nearly suffocating me.

But during the week, betweent the professional hours of 8:30 and 4:30, I see it in my kids. Their eyes, their smiles, the bashfulness and playfulness. I know now why people covet them so. Love personified.
Another quote from Kundera's book: "Perhaps the reason we are unable to love is that we yearn to be loved, that is, we demand something (love) from our partner instead of delivering ourselves up to him demand-free and asking for nothing but his company." I didn't demand the
love of these children, only their attention during class. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I woud fall in love in them, so irrevocably, and that love would be returned through smiles, laughs and acceptance. These kids have taught me to demand precious little from the adults in my personal life as the pleasure of their company is enough to sustain me, and the rewards from this is the love that I seek.

I'm often thinking about next year and of leaving my kids behind. I know that once I take off on the plane, that will be it for our relationship. All I'll have are the memories and the photographs. And I feel my heart squeezing even now and I know this is love as well, this pain that is sometimes is sometimes love's shadow on a sunny day.

Summer Workshop, The Perfect Swimming Hole, and MONKEYS!

It's been an action packed few days. A couple of blog-worthy things happened, so I'll start with the coolest: Dave and I saw monkeys! I've been living in Neo for over a year, and I've heard stories about the vegetable farm pillaging, sometimes aggressive, always entertaining Neo monkeys, but yesterday, I finally got to see some in the flesh. It went down like this: Dave and I went exploring on a lazy Sunday afternoon. We drove for a little while until we found a place in the river that seemed swimmable. We got out and found that there were people, including some unidentifiable Eastern Europeons camping and barbecuing. We were getting ready to walk in the water when someone yelled out "monkeys" and lo and behold, there was a family of them. It was one of the coolest things I've seen in Japan. We walked around for a bit and found the most perfect definition of a swimming hole. It was so lovely but we didn't have our swimsuits, so we'll test it out next weekend. I can hardly wait.

On Thursday and Friday, Gifu JETs new and old headed to the city for a summer workshop. It was a little crazy, but it was a fab chance to hook up with Japanese people who could speak English. I love my kids, but lord help me, English study is not where their passion lies. But these kids at the workshop were nothing short of amazing. And some of them just sounded like native speakers, which totally blew my mind. This girl, Mai, is a 4th grader, so she is maybe 9 years old. She nearly gave me a heart attack because she was reading an English newspaper that was put on the desk for crafts. When she got to a word she didn't recognize, she sounded it out. Shit on a stick, I don't think I could have been surprised. She was absolutely lovely.

There were a lot of games and opportunities to chat with the kids but it was also cool to meet some of the newbies. I was very happy to see that quite a few were Canadian, including a Black girl from Toronto. Damn, Christina and I made a beeline for her. I believe that brings our female population to 4. Can I get a woot?!


After the workshop on the first day, a bunch of us went to a Turkish restaurant, and it was my first time at this place. I picked a winner of a dish (lamb stew - lamb, how I've missed you), and Aiden got some meat on a sword. Fantastic photo op.


And that's about it. I came to school on Monday to find the head teacher there with her three gigantic dogs - Terra, Alpha and Lord. P.S. She's a science teacher.

Alright, I'll be off to Tottori ken tomorrow for the next couple of days for a bus tour and I'll be seeing the famous sand dunes. After that, I'll have a jammed weekend featuring the swimming hole, an ocarina concert and a movie. After that is an orientation for Gifu JETs primarily for the newbies which is an overnight thing, then I'll be hanging out with my surrogate parents. Mata ne!

Wazzupwitme...

Yesterday, I had a rare treat. I got to go out to the big city and have dinner with friends, on a weeknight!!!! Wow, that statement warranted four exclamation marks, and while it may not seem like a huge deal for you, it was a rare occasion for me and most blog-worthy. Well, not really, but it was sweet. And what made it even sweeter was that I had the pleasure of the company of my favorite Scotsman, David (sorry Ed, but you understand). Dave came over, MIDWEEK, because he had an appointment to get a Japanese driver's license, and it was the first time ever. My freaking mind was blown.

Anyway, after showing Dave the route to get to the driver's license bureau from my place, we made our way to Gifu City to have dinner with Heather, Mai, Jeff, Ed, his friend Henry, and Sarah. The original plan was to go for Mexican (which I was sorely craving), but we went for Italian when it was learned that the El Paso was closed. Where the food was lacking, the company more than made up for it. It was SO GOOD to see Heather, a wonderful woman from Thunder Bay, Ontario. We met a year ago, and this is the first time we've gone out to something that was non-JET related. At the last JET thing, we promised each other we'd hook up and it came to fruition yesterday. Since she lives relatively close to the big mall not that far from me, we'll be hooking up on a more regular basis. It was great seeing Sarah as well, a Southern belle I hardly see, but always a pleasure when I do. Yeah, it was a simple gathering of friends for dinner, but it was so good to have a reminder of my former life - you know, having a social life during the week. Ahhh...gotta do that more often.

Speaking of my former life, I've been trying to book tickets for Dave and I to visit my former home, and let me tell you, it's a biatch. Firstly, most of the time, it's all in Japanese, which lets me practice, but rudely reminds me that I still have a long way to go before being somewhat fluent (yeah, I know, that's not happening). Secondly, the price variations are insane and I can't help but feel that I'm getting financially molested by ticket agents and for good reason - http://www.debito.org/HISpricing.html. On top of that, the gasoline tax is outrageous. As we will be going for my best friend's wedding and I won't be going on another international flight before leaving Japan next year, I just gotta suck it up and take it up the butt.

I'm currently reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera and Oprah's Live Your Best Life. The former is weighty but beautifully written and the latter is full of exceptional writing from very talented writers.

I've watched a few movies over the last little while including You Can Count On Me (loved it for its quiet and soft beauty), Primary Colors (well-written, humourous and surprisingly emotional), Get Shorty (a much loved, oft-watched film), Pirates of the Caribbean (I liked it much better than the first time I saw it. I thought it was too hyped up, but now I think Johnny Depp was fantastic and the whole story was well put together), The Sweetest Thing (I should have known better than trust Aya's recommendation - she saw The Wedding Date for godssake), and The Remains of the Day (a beautiful film, but I liked the book better. Gotta give Anthony Hopkins props though - he da man).

I stole this pic from the BBC web site. I saw it on TV the other day and thought it was just beautiful. It is a memorial service marking the dropping of the atomic bomb on Nagasaki. I doubt I'll have a chance to hit that prefecture before this year is up, but Hiroshima (second time) is in my crosshairs.

So it's been over a year since I landed in Japan and there are some observations that I want to share with you. Not now, but very soon. Stay tuned.

It's so bloody hot...

And I have no idea how to put captions under my photos...Can anyone help me? In the meantime, please enjoy this pics from Hokkaido and sumo last month. I think I'm going to go put my head in the toilet just to cool off. Jaa...

Awwwww....

My self-esteem got a nice boost this morning. See, my hair is growing and I'm experimenting with twists to keep it protected from the elements and to keep me looking somewhat decent during the lazy days of summer. They are cute enough, but they make me look like a 12 year old girl. I've worn them out a couple of times and I had my hair twisted for the majority of the Hokkaido trip, but I recently decided to actually go to work looking like this. Last night after dinner, I twisted my hair while watching Remains of the Day (good flick, but read the book instead). They looked good and I was confident that they'd look fine in the morning. So I woke up and tied a ribbon around my hair to make it look even cuter and skipped to school. My closest friend at work commented right away and made me feel really good. A little while later, all the ladies in the office came over to tell me how good it looked and asked me a bunch of questions. Yes, they put their hands in my hair, but they asked first. I usually don't like people touching my do, but in the spirit of internationalization, I allowed it. They really boosted my self-esteem and I'm feeling just lovely. Just wanted to share... Sorry, no pics yet, but I'll be getting my camera back this Friday.

Hokkaido Highway Blues...NOT

Ahhh, I had an awesome week. Little did I know that embarking on an 6 day road trip (plus 2 days on a boat) to the north of Japan would do me so good. From pulling away from the port of Nagoya to touching down in Chubu Airport, going to Hokkaido was the best thing I've done in a little while. While the weather was perfect, absolutely perfect, the sights were amazing, the sense of freedom was palpable, and camping Japanese style was phenomenal, by far, the best thing about this trip was bonding in close quarters with some of the best people in Japan.

The adventure started out last Saturday, July 22 when Ed, Shiloh and I met up on top of Nagoya Station. Having been truly knackered from our karaoke adventure the night before, our excitement at taking the 36 hour ferry from Nagoya Port to Tomakomai was beaten into a frenzy upon viewing the cruise ship that was our ferry. With an onsen, a movie theatre, a restaurant, comfortable berths and straight up cleanliness, the trip started out right. We had plenty of things to occupy ourselves and time passed by quickly.

Before we knew it, we had arrived in Hokkaido, picked up our rental car and headed out to Sapporo. The cold and wet conditions improved dramatically as we drove on and it was absolutely stunning by the time we reached the prefectural capital. We checked out the usual sights (the clocktower, the TV tower, Odori Park) and spent hours just strolling happily along, being over the moon about sitting on really grass (really, such a luxury in Gifu) and attending out first beer matsuri (festival). After night fell, we headed down and over to Kuriyama to hook up with the oh so fine, Montreal Stephanie. Let me tell you about this girl - she is personality cubed. She's funny, she's hyper-intelligent, she's cultured, she's a hometown/around-the-way girl and she's beautiful, inside and out. We've only had the pleasure of each other's company a precious few times, but kept up with each other through blogs, MSN and emails (thank the lord for technology), but hooking up again after a year was exquisite. Yeah, I heart her hard.

After waking up Tuesday morning at Steph's place, we got our little show on the road and headed to Biei, famous for it's nature and lavendar fields, to set up our tent. Yes, Ms. K. was going to camp. And let me tell you - it was so easy. Camping in Japan is the shit. Everything was so clean and the close proximity to onsens ensured that we wouldn't stink to high heaven after a couple of days. Even the bugs weren't so bad! And our campsite was monstrously huge! We spent two nights there and it was a complete pleasure, even though we were four inside the tent. It was ridiculously cozy, but in a good way.

On Wednesday, we decided to attack one of the Daisetsuzan mountains. I don't know which one we conquered, but we hiked for 5 hours. We felt pretty battered and bruised, but after going to the onsen and having a nice meal, everything was just gravy.

On Thursday, we set out for Toya-ko, which was clear across the prefecture from where we were. I think we drove for about 6 or 7 hours, stopping a few times. We stopped at Furano for a while to take about a hundred photos of the famous lavendar fields. When we finally reached our destination, the sun was setting, which made the campsite so beautiful. We even saw a couple of swans which added to the overwhelming beauty. We cleaned ourselves up at the onsen and headed to the city for a meal. We also indulged in some wine drinking (again) and had a pleasant evening.

On Friday, our last full day in Hokkaido, we enjoyed the beautiful weather by wading in the lake. Ed and I stayed behind because of his cast and my hair do while Steph and Shi swam. Afterwards, we lazed about on the beach and had the sun and the fresh air make love to our bodies. That was probably my favorite time during the whole trip. We capped things off by heading to Sapporo to meet some of Steph's friends, drink in the park with what seemed like the whole population of the city and indulge in some less than mature antics. But don't worry - I kept my clothes on.

I got back a couple of days ago, and while I was just wrecked because I stayed up all night on our final night, I feel sooo good about that trip. I especially feel wonderment about the friends I have here. Ed and Shi, my Gifu compatriots, further solidifed their places in my heart. My dear Stephanie has left this fair country, but hanging out with her over the past week brought back some Montreal into my life, which was sorely being missed, though unbeknowest to me. I raise my glass to thee.

Since I didn't have my digi cam, I will be getting my film developed in the next couple of days. Watch this space for updates. In the meantime, you can check out Steph's pics here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/sothereiwas/sets/72157594215951385/show/

Lazy, school daze...

I was recently informed that I have to give a presentation to some Japanese Teachers of English in a few weeks, and since I'm bored out of my skull right now, I'm starting early. As much as I like working under the gun of a deadline, finding out cool things to say about Canada while I whittle away my long non-teaching workdays proves to be much more fun.

Anyway, I did a google search on facts of Montreal, and this is what I found: http://www.mikel.org/words/true_facts_abou.html I like these sort of lists, written by cocky people who feel they can write about a whole demographic. Sometimes they get it wrong, sometimes they are oh so right. These are a few of my faves:

You might be from Montreal if:

6. You refer to 6 inches of snow as a "dusting."
8. You don't think you have an attitude.
10. Everything in town - at least everything you care about - is a seven dollar cab ride away.
11. When out of town, you think the locals from the area are all hopelessly provincial. Including when you go to another big city.
15. You don't realize that you drive twice as fast as everyone else.
16. You're self-indulgent, extravagant, jaded and pessimistic.
17. You think if someone is nice to you, they must be looking for a vote. Or spare change.
22. You haven't been carded since age 14, anywhere.
23. You only eat stimés during a Habs game 'haldress'.
24. You think that if someone never goes out after work they must be hopelessly square, or ill.

How we'll know you weren't born here:
You cross at a crosswalk.
You ask directions to "Club Supersexe" or "Shay Paree".

Getting around:

St. doesn't mean street. It means Saint.
If Boul Réné-Levesque has mysteriously turned into Dorchester, you're in Westmount. You can speak English now.

Things you should know:

The underground train is not a subway. It's the metro. The subway is in Toronto, and it sucks compared to here.

****************************************************

Last Sunday, I, along with a group of ALTs from Aichi and Gifu prefectures, made it out to Nagoya to watch sumo. I think I've proclaimed my love for sumo on this blog a few times, but I'm going to do it again: I really, really, really love sumo. My favorite wrestler is Asashoryu, this bad boy:

He's Mongolian, powerful and cocky as a MF. He's also the Yokozuna, the top wrestler. It was love at first sight. After sitting in super close seats and enjoying watching matches of the junior sumo wrestlers for 2 hours, the rightful seat owners claimed their seats and we were relegated to our nosebleed position in section J. Though I didn't get to see my man up close and personal, I was happy he won his bout. Next year, I'm going to pay to play and get really good seats. When Ed and I were close, we were able to see the elephant-like nutsack of a particularly huge man. Oh yeah, that's the good stuff...

In other news, some of my kids think that me and my JTE are D-A-T-I-N-G for the simple fact that we went to see MI-III together. I don't really care, just as long he doesn't think we are...

Anyway, this is the last post for a while as I will be going to Hokkaido with Ed and Shi tomorrow. I will try to update pics soon but since I will be taking pics with my film camera (my digicam is at Dave's and he's in Scotland), it might be a little while. A bientot!

I felt somewhat ashamed...

When I read this article on the BBC web site: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/5188680.stm I am a Canadian with a rich, proud Ghanian heritage. The Ghanian culture is full of beauty and tradition, and the society is peaceful and generous. But I'm ashamed to say that polygamy and man-sharing, particularly in the north of the country, is an aspect that I'm unbelievably pissed off about. Growing up in a household with two Ghanian parents and scores of relatives afforded me up close and personal contact with the drama that unfolds when men, yes men, are greedy and selfish. It drives me wild with impotent fury and makes me both pity and scorn the women who stand for it.

Here are some bits taken from the linked article that I must comment on:

When he leaves me to sleep with another wife, it's painful and I feel very jealous, but I just have to accept it. Umm, no, no you don't. You don't have to accept such behaviour from the man you married. You don't have to put up with physical risk in the form of the ever so popular HIV/AIDS. You're married, but doll, not many folks sign up for this horseshit. Take advantage of the lax cultural values towards marriage, call up a divorce lawyer, and stop the insanity!

Polygamy causes stress. Gee, that's a fucking understatement. Your hubby is getting it on with two other women THAT YOU KNOW OF, you don't work because you choose not to or can't, you have kids to support and your self-esteem is in the toilet. But, I have a funny feeling that by cutting out the cancer that is your marriage, things just might get better.

Taken from another woman: As Muslims, we accept polygamy. If a man wants to marry another wife and she refuses, she refuses God. Umm, yeah, I'm not a Muslim, but I'm a woman, and as a woman, I'm pretty sure that God wants EVERYBODY to be happy. Not just the man and the man's penis, but EVERYBODY. (I don't know enough about Islam to comment about the misogynistic and hateful treatment of women, but I feel comfortable saying that religion, this and others, do not put the interests of women in the same universe with those of the man.)

Polygamy is a sensible arrangement.
Yes, perhaps for animals in the wild kingdom...But then again, animals sometimes eat their young, so maybe this isn't the best group to be looking at.

Competition makes you want to cook the best meal for your husband and raise the best children. Again, I might be wrong here, but I thought love was what made one want to cook the best meal for their mates and raise the best children. If I'm wrong, I've obviously been misled for my whole effing life.

I swear people, I was going to come on here and talk about sumo and how it's going around school that my JTE and I are dating, but this article has gotten me too fired up. I promise though, I'll post before I leave for Hokkaido. GRRRRR!

Love, friendship and banana bread...

All three have been weighing heavily on my mind lately. I've been thinking about love and it's various definitions and what the word has meant to me in the past, and what it means now. I think about how powerful it is and how it sustains me. I think about what I love and who I love and I sometimes drive myself crazy thinking about all the things I want and need at the moments when I can't have them at all. Then I think about suffering, and while I know I have so much more than many others in this world (and I am thankful for that everyday of my life), my own emotions blind me to everything that surrounds me.

Friendship has also shared space in my mind and thoughts over the past while. Being far away from those who know you best forces you to alter/modify your perspectives on what friends mean during different periods in your life. As one who is adverse to radical shifts in personal paradigms, this topic has been particularly troublesome for me. Those that I need close to me are so far, and those that are close to me are far as well. Difficult to explain, even more difficult to reconcile in my own brain.

And finally, there is banana bread. I've been waiting literally months to make this, but due to the absence of any decent sized baking tins, I've been waiting and searching. Lo and behold, last month at the re-contracting conference, a speaker gave an excellent presentation on living well in Japan, complete with drool-inducing recipes. I finally had some time off to experiment with the one for banana bread in the rice cooker but I needed one more ingredient: baking powder. Now, I knew looking for it at the grocery store might be a bit of challenge, but I sorely underestimated my mission. I really wanted to do it on my own, but I broke after about 15 minutes of reading katakanized English (brutal when you're not in that headspace) and asked for help. That, coupled with the nudge-and-stare-at-the-dark-skinned-gaijin gawks, I was done. I practically flew home in my car and all would have been lost had it not been for the banana bread turning out absolutely perfect. Seriously, probably the best banana bread I've made in ages. The rice cooker made it moist and flavourful - the perfect banana bread. And while it gave me some sun during this our rainy season, it's potency was short lived...

Today, I ate to mollify my pain...

I would never call myself an emotional eater because I deal with my issues without such crutches as food, drink or drugs. I usually talk it out, go for a walk, listen to music or do any number of a variety of healthy activities. But sometimes, just sometimes, when I feel down and out, I need a taste of the familiar. You know, comfort foods. Those foods that can calm us down, with just a whiff of its scent before consuming it. Pillsbury cookies or cinnamon rolls. Homemade banana bread or apple pie. Hot chocolate with half and half. Oh joy. But since I had none of these at my disposable today, I ate one of my other comfort foods - french fries. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me back up.

It was a rough day at school today. I had a class of 7 (usually there are 10 but 3 were away) that nearly overwhelmed me with their constant chatter and raucous behaviour (thank you, S-sensei, for controlling yet ANOTHER brillant class [sarcasm, sarcasm, sarcasm]), I got hit in the head AND the stomach with a ball, and a huge world map fell on my head. I won't even get into the fact that a bear was spotted near the school this morning. But there were smiles, jokes and tickles in there too, so it was survivable. Ahhh, so is the life of an ALT in Japan. But more personal matters weighed on my head. The biggest one was being absolutely annoyed by the seemingly popular opinion that I am intimidating.

Since coming to Japan, I've heard this opinion expressed time and time again by males who think I'm so exotic, so attractive, but EEEEK! Too intimidating. Intimidating is synonymous with scary, unapproachable, daunting... And I'm not like that, the majority of the time. I know how to assert myself when the situation calls for it, but being people usually come to Japan alone, you have to be open, inviting, and welcoming, the antithesis of intimidating, if you want to make friends. If you want to survive.

I can say without doubt that I am strong, confident, opinionted, able to stand up in what I believe in, and not willing to take any shit. How is this wrong? I couldn't possibly be the person I am, survived the shit I have, if I wasn't raised this way. This public diary is no place to share everything, but I can assure you, things could have gone down a VERY wrong road for me. So I like who I am. I'm proud of who I am. I don't think there is too much more to improve. So why does it feel like punishment when people think that I'm a ferocious cannibal without feelings, ready to maul anyone who missteps (well, that's only when I'm PMSing, but that's 1 day out of the month, even if it happens. Besides that, I'm a very reasonable human being. But I'm digressing)?

I think that it's almost humourous when people say "you look like you don't take any shit," without me saying anything. But is isn't that suppposed to be a good thing, an attractive quality in a person? One friend said that he wanted someone to take his shit. I had to laugh. At least he was being honest.

That's all to say that I felt hurt today which led to being lonely, more lonely than I've felt in a long time. I literally ached for the familiar, for some comfort. I thought about the weekly free dinners at a Ste. Catherine eatery (whose name has escaped me) with strong girlfriends, eating good food, and sharing stories from our fabulous lives. I thought about seeing my friends stand up for themselves and not let anyone take advantage of them. I thought a lot about my former life and I had to smile at the good memories. So with the help of the self-cut, self-fried french fries, I got a little piece of the familiar and felt myself regenerate. It felt good to quench my pain with the fat from the oily fries and the memories in my mind. No matter where I go and where I end up, I'll always be fine, even if I have to bust a few heads a long the way.