I was in the city last weekend for a mid-year teaching seminar, regardless of the fact that its November, and went out for dinner and some karaoke afterwards with some fellow JETs.  Karaoke here is fantastic, they give your own karaoke booth with a little phone in it. You just pick up the phone and it hooks you directly up to a bartender at the front desk.  The bartender will happily wheel up jug after beautiful jug on a little trolly until your time expires.  We payed for two hours with all you can drinks, ordered a shitload of booze and pitchers right before our two hours was up then payed for an extra hour without all you can drink.  I loves Japan!  Anyway, three hours later on our way out to another bar, everyone suddenly decided to eat burgers and head home... at 12.  I was feeling good and saucy at this point and drunkenly decided to roll the dice and header on out myself.  I made my way down to a little bar close to where karaoke was situated and ended up randomly meeting this German university professor.  As I was now stuck in the city till my next train rolled in at six am, the professor offered to show me a few bars in the area before he peaced out.
We started off at a little bar called Pinball, where we met a bunch of Japanese dudes who could speak a bit of English.  We had a couple beers with these guys then they closed up shop and told us to follow them to a noodle shop down the street.  These guys showed us this tiny little ramen noodle shop hidden in an alleyway.  They immediately filled the table full of beers, crazy little Japanese appetizers, and huge bowls of pork noodles and wouldn't let me pay for a thing.  Once the food was finished they went on their way, just like that... Japanese hospitality is still unbelievable. 
After finishing or meals we cruised down to an Aussy bar nearby.  All we found inside was a lonely bartender mackin on this drunk-off-her-ass Japanese girl.  He gave us two free Carona's to disappear... I kindly accepted.  By this time it was about five so we pounded our beers and found one more tiny little bar in another dark and dingy alleyway.  It was only distinguishable by a tiny red light shining beside the doorway.  Had a couple more beers here and made my way back just in time for the train. 

If theres one thing I absolutely love about life here in Japan, its the crazy randomness my gaijin status affords me...

I just realized it's been almost two months since I posted my last blog.  Crazy how fast time goes...

So what's happened in these two weeks worthy of elaboration???  Where to begin...
Not long after I posted my last blog, some other ALT's and I rented out an international villa in a little onsen(hotsprings) town not too far away from my little town.  We had a ten room palace all to ourselves for an entire weekend and besides the random artfag wood designs scattered through the place it was gorgeous.  Hardwood floors, timber framed, and located beside a beautiful onsen that cost us nothing use.  It was here that I had my first onsen experience, which has turned out to be my last... so far.
We of course boozed the nights away, thanks to spinners you'll all be happy to know.  It has now obtained international status and spread to my UK and American friends here.... of course they just call it "Hockey Drinking Game."  So after a good night of boozin', my warped little swartz mind decided it would be an excellent idea to have a hungover onsen... from what I can piece together, my broken logic was as follows...
Laying naked in a steaming pool of hot water with a bunch of Japanese and equally naked men will cure this vomitous hangover of mine.
This was pretty much the best idea I've ever had in my life as I'm sure you can imagine the results... 
I lasted about ten minutes in the water before I started getting lightheaded sweats and a faint tinge of nausia.  I got up, buckass naked of course as you aren't allowed clothes in the onsen, and decided to have an outdoor onsen(located convieniently beside the highway.  They put up a wall between the men and women's onsen pools but left the area beside the highway totally bare?????).  My outdoor onsen lasted five minutes while the sweats became cold, the nausia increased, and  the saliva glands began to work overtime in my mouth.  I got my ass back inside and tried to sit under a tap of what i thought was ice cold water. Nope.  Again, steaming hot water all over my head and back... this pushed me past the line of choke-backable retches.  I ran out of the onsen buckass naked and soaking wet straight into the little one man washroom which, you guessed it, had a squating toilet.  Of all the classless moments I've had in an overly abundant life of class-lacking shame, I can honestly say this was a new low.  There I was, a poor, soaking wet,  naked-assed white-boy lying on the floor of a one room shitter in japan... face buried in a squating toilet. 
Gape would be a good word to describe the expressions on those poor, old Japanese faces...

    Daily life in my town is full of so much misunderstanding and awkwardness I don't know whether to scream or laugh at times.  I feel like a mildly intelligent ape, waving my hands around in hopeful gestures and mumbling unmumbleable Japanese phrases.  Like those chimps they sort of taught sign language to, asking for food then throwing their own shit at their keepers. 
    It really does feel like home now though, and I've even started noticing myself craving foods I hated upon first arrival.  I've been going to a sushi bar once or twice a week right by my house.  All the cooks stand in the centre of the restaurant preparing the sushi, then placing it onto tiny plates, which eventually go onto a tiny little conveyor-belt that rotates the restaurant.  Everyone just sits around the bar and takes the plates they want off the conveyor-belt.  When your done, they count how many plates you have and pay about a buck for each one.  Hahahah screw the food, the simple idea of it had me sold.  So one night as I was on my tenth or twelve plate of this delicious fish and shrimp I noticed something strange about the sushi chef standing over me.  So I casually looked up, straight into the eyes of a Japanese midget!   Our eyes locked, his and mine, in a look of mutual surprise.  Me, because I'd never seen a Japanese-midget-sushi-chef, and him, because hell, I'm a gaijin-sushi-eater.  The moment passed as quickly as it had began, but from that day forward I haven't looked at my tightly rolled sushi the same... those small pudgy hands can work wonders.
    The supermarket is always fun as well.  All the old ladies covertly make drive-bys past my cart checking out what kinds of food this white boy could possibly eat.  They try to be sneaky about it, but oh, oh I know... as soon as I give them eye contact they go back to what ever random fish product they originally pretended to be staring at in the first place.  The supermarket itself has all the basics one needs to survive in a western country... eggs, milk, cereal.  But everything comes in tinier portions... for instance you can only get two or three decent sized bowls of cereal out of a box and milk only comes in one litre cartons.  Fruit is crazy expensive as well, a thing of grapes can cost up to twenty bucks... and one peach costs five dollars.
    Yesterday after work, I decided it was time for a haircut to commemorate my first month in Japan.  So upon finding what looked like a  Japanese  barber shop after ten minutes of frantic bike riding, I decided to giver a shot.   The second I sat down on that chair, we were lost in a sea of confusion and awkward laughs.  I tried using my broken Japanese, he tried using his broken English, but to no avail...  We eventually established that I was from Canada and not America, but after this all was lost... I kept saying ni, which in Japanese means two and is the number of shaver I usually get back home... big mistake.  From what I could piece together, after this pinnacle of cross-cultural miscommunication was finally finished, was that he had assumed I was talking about millimeters, because my head was practically shaved.  When he showed me the finished product I let out a sound that must have been half way between a giggle and retch... two words, and only two words, immediately started spinning through my mind... Forrest Gump.  Yep, almost completely shaved right up the sides with a little poof on hair across the top.  As if this wasn't enough, this woman came out after and pushed my head into a sink.  She washed my hair twice, then started smacking it by placing the palm of one of her hands on my head and beating her hand with her other fist.  She then pulled out some weird comb thing and rubbed it on my head, very painfully, for way too long.  She topped everything off by rubbing something that smelled and felt like vics vapo-rub all over my neck and the back of my head.  Very unpleasant.  Once my head had been sufficiently beaten to her Japanese standards, a blade magically appeared in her hands and she tried to shave my face.  After the Forrest Gump looking skull I had now attained there was no way I was letting her touch my face with a razor sharp knife.  I jumped out of the chair continually chanting iie, iie(no).  She backed off, letting me narrowly escape with my now prized facial hair.  This whole ordeal cost me 35 Canadian dollars.... 
I guess life really is like a box of chocolates, you never know what your going to get.

    Monday was my first official day at my high school in front of my students.  I had to wear a suit and give a speech in front of over a thousand people on stage half in English and half in Japanese.  It was so unbelievably hot one of the kids actually had to be taken away before he fainted.  And of course, here I was the only sucker wearing a suit hahah.  I was drenched in sweat and I admit my knees were a wee bit shaky, but other than that I think it went ok... my supervisor gave me a satisfied nod anyway.
    Today was my first day in the classroom with the students I'll be teaching for the next year and it seemed to go really well.  Some classes are stone-faced and quiet while others are lively and full of smiles.  The children all call me Jamey sensei hahaha I love it!  I feel like I'm in The Karate Kid or something.  I can hear them whispering my name in halls and they just laugh when I try to say hello to them.  They're all really cute, asking you ridiculous questions like, "Jamey sensei, do you know what a brada(bladder) is?" hahaha and they all say herro instead of hello.  A student even made me a welcome present with the Canadian flag on it.  They told me I look like a famous person as well hahaha which is pretty much any North American person in Japan, but dammit I'll take the ego boost. 
    In my third class today as I was giving a lesson, a few students started giggling and pointing towards my feet and I didn't really know what was going on so I smiled at them as I was talking.  They got up and started yelling something and kept pointing, so I looked around and there was a huge cockroach crawling towards me on the podium where I was speaking.  So the whole class got up, everyone was yelling and screaming and I was jumping around the podium trying to squish the roach.  The worst part about the whole ordeal was that I was wearing little slippers that were too small for my feet.  When you enter the school there is a raised platform where you have to stop, take off your shoes, place them neatly against the platform and then put on some slippers.  The weird thing is in some classrooms you have to do this again, this time putting on even more ridiculously small, foam slippers.  So here I was trying to squish that dirty roach in foam slippers that were much too small for me.  Hahahaha it was fun though, and the kids were all laughing and having a good time.  I was pretty nervous at first, but I think teaching is going to be good times.... easy as hell, fun, and the pay is amazing(well at least in comparison to doing chainsaw work out in the boonies.

    I only had to work a half day today because of some kind of holiday thats going on in our prefecture.  It's not a national holiday but everyone takes time off to visit family, meaning I was pretty much the only person in the school.  Lots of the other JETs got the whole three day holiday off, and have gone to do some traveling the fuckers!  But I found a couple other JETs that are still around and traveled into their town Monday night.  We were going to have a cooking lesson for poor instant-noodle eating Swartz but out of nowhere Kajsa's landlord, Kajsa's another JET from the states, decided to take us out for dinner randomly to a Japanese-Italian restaurant.  Food was delicious and Hana, Kajsa's landlord, paid for the whole ordeal.  As if this wasn't enough she took us to her house after, dressed us up in real Kimono's, and we all walked down to a local Ibara festival with her entire family, children, grandchildren, everyone.  I thought Japanese people stared at Gaijins normally... hahaha try a gaijin in a traditional kimono, straight blank stares.  I can't think of a better way to get to know Japan, little grandchildren running around giving us high five's and showing us tree frogs... a side of Japan I'd never get to see or know existed if it wasn't for unbelievable people like Hana.
    The festival itself was surreal... A huge tower was set up in the middle of the park with lantern lights stringing down off the top.  There was three or four Japanese men standing at the top of the tower, one man was playing a small drum with cushioned sticks and another was singing strangely into a microphone.  All around the tower people were doing an organized dance in circles, rotating around the tower, it was amazing.  Jon and I, another JET from Ottawa, pounded some beers and he eventually convinced me to head into the mob.  They had both been to this type of festival before and already knew the dances, but instead of teaching me, convinced me just to jump right in.  So I did, and after people were done laughing at the goofy gaijin raping their traditional dance, this little old man took pity on my cause and showed me all the steps as we rotated around this tower.  It was great, tossing your arms in the air, spinning sideways, kicking your foot in the air hahaha, just like the Liksy shuffle... but more socially accepted.  In between the dancing, the flood lights were shut off leaving the lanterns to light up the square.  The local fire department came out and lit off some fireworks right over top of all of us... I think fireworks are much more enjoyable and exciting when they're exploding right over your head.
    Afterwards we went back to Hana's house and she fed us squid, beer, and pizza.  Japanese hospitality is guilt-wrenching, stuff like this would never happen in Canada.  And to put things right over the top, her husband had an authentic samurai sword and knife, or katana as he called it.  He brought them out and let us hold them, I couldn't believe it.  Dressed up in Kimono's, holding samurai swords.... I felt pretty badass.  As caught up in the excitement as I was, I missed my last train back to my town and had to crash on Jon's floor.  I was forced to catch the six am train back into my town, quickly jump in the shower, and then head straight off to work.  I was pretty tired and had a bit of an Asahi headache the next day, but a small price to pay for an amazing experience.

Been at the school for a few days now, and starting to get some lesson plans together.  I'm apparently expected to give three speeches in front of three different schools, half in Japanese and half in English and then about ten or twenty 50m introductions to every class I have to teach.  Somewhat of a daunting task... On a good note though I've been going out for lunch with some of the English teachers and they all seem to be very helpful both in helping me choose lesson plans and teaching me workable Japanese.  Whoever said the Japanese don't eat much was full of shit, I can't handle it.  A normal lunch dish has a heaping plate full of all kinds of food, a huge bowl or rice and a soup, usually seaweed.  And if you don't eat everything they assume you didn't like it and take offense.  They're all crazy bastards, I can't figure out how they all aren't six hundred pounds.  I've also discovered the school uses squatting toilets... I can't figure these things out either.  One of the other gaijins kicking around told me to always face the cave... even then I can't see how this system is ever suppost to work. 
    They finally issued me my own bike from the school stash on Monday.  This thing has got to be at least thirty years old... covered in dents and repainted about six times, my own little one-speed swartzmobile complete with front wheel basket.  I took the old bastard out after work to do some shopping and get my barrings a bit better in my little town.  They call it a city but I sure as shit can't find the rest of it.  It's an area much smaller than Temiskaming Shores with six times the population and a fuckload of rice fields.  I managed to find a bike path, which I think they call Kibi, that runs across my town and apparently straight into Okayama City.  I biked a good chunk of it today, gliding through rice field after rice field, eventually finding myself at a five story temple compound on the side of a little hill.  I decided to hold off on the temple till I could "shashin-o-torimas," or take pictures hahaha I'm learnin' eh!  Further down the path were small orchards of white peaches, Okayama Prefecture's own unique delicasy.  They wrap the peaches in orange paper while they grow, so I'm wondering if maybe they just lose they're colour cause of the paper??? Either way the smell was amazing so I biked my ass to the grocery store to pick some up and indulge.  They just look like ginormous white peaches with less fuzz, but are right fucking delicious... sweeter, juicier and hopefully solve-my-digestive-issues-from-avoiding-squatting-toilets-er.
    I've been hearing this strange music every other night at about ten o'clock, it seems to gradually come out of nowhere, get really loud all of a sudden then fade back to nothing.  It sounds almost East-Indian or flutish, and scares the shit out of me every time.  I finally got a look out the window last night as it was going by... it was a Japanese pickup truck with a red tent illuminated by a lantern in the back.  It had some Kenji written on the side, but I can't fucking read it.  This vehicle drives down the little lane right outside my window every second night, somewhat creepy.
    Wednesday I hopped a train back into Okayama City to meet up with some fellow JETs for a few drinks and an authentic Asian fireworks show.  The fireworks were really well done, all kinds of hearts and crazy-huge explosions that lit up the whole sky.  Don't tell him I said this, but it puts Peter Grant's display to a pathetic shame.  Afterwards we went down to a little bar not far from the train station called... Aussy Bar.  Pretty chill place, more of a safe harbour for gaijins then anything else.  But they did have pint and a half mugs which went down pretty smooth in the fist-shaking Japanese humidity.  As it turns out, only Canadians use the words 'toque' and 'ceasar'.  They call toques, 'winter hats' or 'woolies,' and ceasars, 'bloody mary's,' who would have thunk?  Not to mention, 'choke on a bag of dicks,' which even the Irish take offense to hahahhaa... but started using thereafter.
    After the drinks a couple of us crashed at another JETs place in Okayama City as we had to be back for this contract signing ceremony in the morning.  I was not prepared for this ceremony at all, stuffing a golf shirt into my bag on the way out the door on Wednesday night and forgetting my hygiene sack.  Little did I realize we had to meet all these government officials and go through one of the most important ceremonies we'll ever encounter in our stay in Japan.  We had to stand up when our names were called, bow, walk over to the official, bow while he read us our contracts then bow again while holding the contract with both hands at the same time the official is holding it(with both hands), and say yoroshiku onegaiashimas.  The worst part about all this is they had TV camera's, reporters, and photographers documenting the whole thing.  Fuck, I was unshaven, I stank, and I was wearing a wrinkly golf shirt hahhahhaa.  On top of all that I tripped on my chair when it was my time to get up.  Apparently this ceremony was to appear on TV in Okayama city that evening.... great stuff.
    The next day after work I grabbed my bike and went back to the temple with my camera, the sun was just going down as it gets dark here at seven o'clock.  No daylight savings for these folk!  Ended up getting some great pics though, of both the temple and my town just as the sun was setting was over the mountains.  Who's got two thumbs and takes artfag photo's??? THIS KID!  After that I managed to figure out how to use my Japanese rice cooker and make miso soup for the first time.  Turned out I made the soup wrong and it tasted like sweaty balls, but dammit I ate it anyway.  I'm a proud and stubborn man.
    Sunday I made my way to Kasaoka, which is right on the coast of the inland sea right next to Hiroshima Prefecture, to meet up with what turned out to be about twenty-five other JETs.  We took a ferry from Kasaoka to a little island about twenty minutes away which had an amazing beach.  Light green water, not a cloud in the sky, and a beautiful beach... an amazing day.  We relaxed in the sun, played some beach volleyball, swam and played frizbee on a strange raft that reminded me of something out of Pirates of the Caribbean.  The island also had a "Moocafe," located right on the beach and run by an Australian man and an American woman.  As cheezy as this place was, it was really good.  the whole menu related back to cows in some way, such as the "moo-garita," or the "Banada da-cow-ri" hahhaha, and the roof was spotted in black and white as well.  Spent a good chunk of my day here, drinking da-cow-ri's out of bamboo pole cups and delicious Carona's.  Overall an excellent day. 
    After we got back into Kasaoka we met up with a Japanese guy who was playing frisbee with us on the raft who took us out to this crazy Japanese restaurant where we bbq-ed our own food on these mini grillers which sat in the middle of our table.  Tiny strips of pork and beef, mixed with strange and exotic mystery meats, very delicious.  A worthy end to an excellent day.
    This about sums up my first two weeks in Japan mon chums, and I figure I'll stick to posting trips I take here after this.  Daily like in my town is somewhat quiet, but its really starting to feel like home. There are already many trips in the works so I'll try to keep it updated as much as possible.  Missin' you fucks, and if your looking for a crazy place to vacation complete with localized tour guide, drop me a line.

    Alright, I don't know about the bloggin', but if you douche bags will read it... I guess I'll write it.  Japan is incredible, there's no words to describe... Everything here is amazing and hilarious all at the same time.  It's been a blur, it feels like I've been here for months because of everything I've seen and honestly it hasn't even been a week.  I couldn't hope to describe everything I've seen or done, so I'll just try to skim the top, giving you an overview... too wild for words. 
    It began on the plan ride over.  We flew straight north from Toronto, over North Bay and up near the Arctic Circle.  We came back around Siberia and ended up in Tokyo 12 and a half hours later... it didn't get dark the entire time we flew because of the arctic course we took so we got sauced the whole way there.  Yes, the plane served free alcoholic beverages the whole trip hahaha including sake and Canadian beers... we cleaned them right out.  Wasn't a beer or a bottle of sake left on that plane, even in first class hahhaha.  We even dipped into the wine before we landed... We left Ottawa at 11am Saturday morning and didn't get into Tokyo until 4pm Sunday afternoon.  14 hours ahead if you'd like to set your watch, or 14 hours into the future as I like to think of it.  When we arrived in Tokyo we had a three day international JET orientation, with 5000 people from forty countries all over the world. We traveled by bus from Narita International airport right downtown Tokyo, going by the infamous Tokyo Tower and even driving by the Imperial Palace.  We arrived at Keio Plaza Hotel around 7pm and immediately hit the brightly lit streets and alleys.  It was wild, you can drink beers anywhere in the streets of Japan, and they sell them everywhere... from convenience stores to vending machines for great prices, its fantastic.  I really got to know some people in Tokyo, mostly the crew from Ottawa I rode over with and we have started to make plans to travel across Japan and into other countries around Asia together.  As fun as it was, it seemed like as soon as you start to make good friends, its time to leave and you get scattered all across Japan and thrown into an entirely new situation with entirely new people.  This is seeming to become a recurring theme in Japan, but thanks to the glorious feats of modern technology mayhaps all is not lost. 
    A few of us went out together the last night we were in Tokyo, we found a tiny place not far from the hotel and sat down to some beers and ordered what we thought was chicken over rice.  What we got instead was chicken skewers that had every piece of the chicken you could ever imagine not eating.  At this point we had been drinking for four days straight, not to mention the send off all of you jerks gave me before I left... so we were all hurtin like christpunching hell.  My plate consisted of one skewer of chicken skin, two skewers of chicken livers, one skewer of strange non-meatish chicken balls, and two skewers of chicken cartilage which officially put me over the top.  Done, couldn't even choke down the rice.
    Our second last night in Tokyo we had a prefectural meeting, which is a meeting for all the new JET's assigned to each individual prefecture(a prefecture is like a province in Canada).  We had some speeches, which seem to be a horrible way of Japanese life... everything has introductory speeches, pre-introductory speeches and pre-pre-introductory speeches, its ridiculous and boring as hell.  Japan is a country of formalities.  That night we went out for some authentic Japanese Karaoke, people from Ireland, America, South Africa, the UK, France... haha it was fun as hell.  They also have a little known feature called nomihodai I think its called, where you pay a lump sum and drink for free for two hours as you use your karaoke booth.  Got sauced... then had to attend more speeches and conferences all day the next day hahaha...  Formalities play a central role for Japanese people, and they take being a host, whether at a hotel or in a restaurant, very seriously.  I went to a little out of the way bar with an Australian and an American one night to have a quiet beer and relax, and the cook made us french fries to eat as we drank.  There is a stereotype in Japan that foreigners can't eat Japanese food and from what we could tell the cook and waitress assumed we couldn't eat anything on their menu, so they went out of the way to make us fries... for free.  If you try to thank them they'll thank you twice more and if you try to bow they'll be sure to bow lower and apologize for no reason.  
    From Tokyo I flew with my prefectural people into Okayama-ken, my prefecture.  The flight took less than an hour so we were very close to the ground and got an excellent view of Japan... it was green everywhere, with towns and cities filling in all of the valley's in between the mountains, just wild.  The second you stepped out of the plane you were soaked in a sea of humidity and sweat.  I've been soaked from the second I wake up in the morning until the minute I pass out at night, and assumedly all night as well.  It is fuckin hot here and because the houses are not insulated very well they either don't have air conditioners or they have one air conditioned room in the entire place.  Here we had another night in Okayama City at a quaint little hotel where we went out to a beer garden, ie a huge-ass patio thats all you can eat and drink(that's nomihodai again for all you Japanophiles)... gold.  They even had a beer pouring machine that tilted your glass to a forty-five degree angle automatically to give it the ideal amount of head haahha.  We traveled around Okayama City, visiting one of the best gardens in Japan.. or so I was told... and Okayama-ken's Castle which was pretty crazy, but not what you'd expect.  And the entire time we were walking around the city these bugs semi, sakaida I think they're called in English, were just screeching... they're actually still screeching as I write this now.  Huge insects, and there are shitloads of them everywhere, very loud.  After a wonderful stay at a hotel in Okayama City, we went to the prefectural building to meet our supervisors who were to take us back to our designated towns/cities.  They lined us up in chairs in front of a huge room where all of our supervisors sat watching us.  When our name was called in Japanese we had to stand up, bow, say yoroshiku onegaiashimas, walk over to our new supervisors, shake hands then sit down and keep quiet... it was nerve racking as fuck and incredibly intimidating.  After this we were driven back to our cities by our supervisors, also nerve racking as they're English is not so good.  This is when I actually started to get a real taste of Japan... he was driving incredibly fast on the left hand side of the road, down roads not meant for two vehicles, swerving around people, other cars, bike's, motorbike's... it was nuts.  Not to mention the roads all have square, cement ditches for water to drain into in the rainy season which is scary as hell hahaha.  For the first time I was the only white guy in a sea of yellow, very strange feeling... especially knowing this is your life for at least the next year.  The countryside is amazing, old Japanese style houses intermingled with deep green rice fields and the occasional temple or shrine... very beautiful.  Because there are so many valley's and mountains you travel to each valley through tunnels they've blasted into the mountains. 
    My city is very close to Okayama City, the largest city in my prefecture and the capital.  Only a twenty minute train ride, so luckily I will be able to meet other people and not just be isolated in my little city-town, whose population is actually over 60 000.  When I arrived with my supervisor we immediately went to the school, no time to rest, or recuperate considering my horrible exhausting jet-lag(we all couldn't sleep past four or five in Tokyo and went to bed at at least 1am).  So here I had to meet every teacher in the school and introduce myself in Japanese... I still have no idea who any of them are.  After this we went straight to get my picture taken so I could send in for my gaijin card(foreigner card), in order to send away for all of the other necessary features of Japanese life... such as the inkan(personal stamp, used instead of a signature).  The school made the inkan for me using katakana symbols and my last name... feel like some kind of English lord, stampin documents and shit hahahahha.  From here my supervisor took me out to a little oden noodle shop where everyone stared at me and smoked cigarettes.  Looks are not as bad as I thought they were going to be.  When I do get stares its from the men, while the women giggle, even old women strangely enough... there seems to be no age where Japanese women stop being girly, they all have their own favourite cartoon character such as winny the poo or astro boy hahaha... its weird.  They stare and giggle until you give them eye contact and then they quickly look away, giggle to themselves and scurry down the street.  It's quite the experience.  Old women also never seem to stop being active here either, you'll see obaasan, or old women, almost bent right to the ground from years of work in a rice field jump up on a bicycle and cruise away, swerving in and out of traffic.  There are no old age homes here either, the oldest sibling is in charge of looking after the parents, whether they marry or not.
    After we finished our running around, we went back to the school and one of the English teachers immediately started planning classes with me and telling me weekends I was going to have to work hahaha the stereotype about the Japanese being workaholics is no lie.  I was also able to meet the predecessor as they seem to be called, which is the JET who worked in my town before me.  It's really rare that we actually overlap in our stay in Japan so I've been very lucky.  She has shown me all around the town and given me all kinds of tips and tricks.  We all went out for supper after this, Chris(my predecessor), Kurose-sensai(my supervisor), and myself.  Kurose-sensai of course was paying to both welcome me and send off Chris, and ordered shitloads of food... cooked soy beans, a plate of mysterious deep-fried and battered balls which I later found out(after eating half the plate) were chicken elbow cartilage, shaved pork, and rice with egg.  I was stuffed from the food and more then a little pale from eating more of the dirty cartilage and couldn't finish my rice plate.  Because I didn't finish my rice, and going back to the formalities of Japanese hospitality, Kurose made a point of driving to the grocery store and buying me packs of rice in case I got hungry later.  The worst part is you try to say no and they just won't listen, you eventually lay down in defeat with a horribly guilty conscience and in this case, an armload of instant noodles.
    As is turned out a typhoon as rolling into town just was I was finally going home, well after nine.  The winds picked up like crazy, bending trees almost in half and rain came down in buckets.  The brunt of the storm didn't hit until around midnight so I couldn't see it well... it woke me up in the middle of the night, sounding like it was going to rip my little paper apartment into shreds.  My doors were rattling, rain pounded on my windows, but it somehow survived with me comfortably intact.  The following morning I had to be at school for eight thirty, which of course means eight fifteen based on the non-negotiable rules of Japanese tardiness.  I was expected to know my twenty-five minute walk by heart having driven it once with Kurose, but luckily my predecessor Chris hooked me up with a map to guide my journey.  Of course it was still pouring from the typhoon the night before and despite my attempts to hide under a tiny umbrella half my shirt got soaked, so I had to show up at work for my first official day with a soaking wet, see-through, white dress shirt.  The walk itself was gorgeous, through a semi-rural area where house plots are dotted with rice fields and every home seems to have an amazing Japanese-style garden.  Once I finally reached the school, on time by the way, I had to remove my shoes and exchange them for slippers before I stepped up onto the raised platform in the lobby, nobody is allowed to wear outdoor shoes inside the school... just crazy pointy slippers that are too small and impossible to walk up stairs in.  I spent my morning being really confused as to what I was supposed to be doing, so I sat at my desk and practiced Japanese for four hours, nobody seemed to mind.  As it turns out I don't have any classes until late August but still have to attend school, pretending I'm busy without being given any work. ??? 
    They let me go home early my first day so I could get 'adjusted' as they liked to call it.  I met up with Chris and we jumped on a couple trains traveling into Kurashiki-shi, the second largest city in my prefecture and home to a small area that mimics ancient Japanese society.  It's a quaint little town full of white buildings, ivy covered walls and some of the weirdest shops known to man.  We came across one of these shops that was completely and utterly dedicated to anything cat related.  I started walking around in this store and noticed, to my own delight, a glass cage with half dead cats in it.  Japanese people were snapping pictures left and right of these poor little creatures who looked as though they were eagerly awaiting death.  Of course the best thing about the whole affair was the music wailing in the background... Japan is notorious, so it seems, for redoing western songs with cheese-ball synthesizers.  Everything from elevator music to pop songs, it doesn't matter if your in the supermarket, waiting for a train, or attending a Japanese festival, you just always feel like your part of some epic, live-action battle between Sonic The Hedgehog and Godzilla.  In this particular store they had classical western piano music supplemented with spastic cat meowing to form the tempo of the song hahhaha, Jordy you would have shit yourself.
    The next day I found myself at a Japanese BBQ with two Canadians from Peterborough, two Americans, and a Japanese lady.  We got smashed on Asahi down by a little river then carried the party back to one of the Canadian's houses for more beers and some sweet delicious sake.  As it turned out, one of the Canadians was on vacation at the moment and is currently teaching in Korea.  Not only did this guy know where Lisky is, but lived with Richard Boyd for a while in Korea eventually taking over his teaching position... think about this for a minute... at a Japanese bbq... on the other side of the goddamn world... with a Canadian teaching in Korea on vacation in a little town in one of the most sparsely populated prefectures in all of Japan, ... what the shit eh??? hahaha Lisky is the centre of the universe.
    After a horribly sweaty/nauseating Sunday morning we made our way back to Okayama city to check out another beer garden.  This one was located in what is categorized as one of the three best gardens in all of Japan.  Before I actually made it down there I decided to take a solo cruise around the city and try to get my asian barings.  I've never felt so foreign, everyone seemed to be staring at me.  A car even made the point to stop, open the windows, point at me, and laugh as I was stopped at a stoplight.  After this happened cops kept stopping me in the street and asking me for my gaijin card, which I haven't received yet... I've never felt that awkward in my life, I'm talking beyond 12 year old erections during class awkward.  But then you turn a corner and find some gorgeous garden or shop and life is good once again. 
    I eventually made my way to the gardens just as it was getting dark.  The garden was lit up with all kinds of coloured lights, lanterns and small flames which came out of pipes in the ground.  The patio was stretched out on the grass right in front of the stage where the jazz band was playing, giving us a beautiful view of the entire place.  We met up with a British girl, a Newfy, and an American from New Orleans.  This guy used to sing jazz music and knew all the songs, the versions, and even ended up singing a couple tunes for us, it was wild. 
    And so ends my first week in Japan.  They say culture shock comes in cycles, the low end filled with depression and the very top being what they call 'the honeymoon phase'.  If this is the case, I'm definitely ridin' the honeymoon phase and loving every minute of it.  Japan is great eh! but I'm missin' all you guys.. so see ya all never and have a nice life!

Sadly I couldn't figure out how to post pics on here right so you'll have to check em out on facebook, sorry guys.