HOKKAIDO .

Aomori

We said goodbye to Hidaka last Saturday and rode the long way up, catching the Shinkansen to Aomori just in time for the Hakodate-bound ferry. Last week was Golden Week, a week-long cluster of national holidays, so the Hidaka crew of ALTs (all 2 of us) decided to use the time off for an escape to Hokkaido. We spent the week catching middle-of-nowhere buses and seaside trains; drinking beer and getting lost.

Hakodate Russian Orthodox Church

Hakodate was the first stop. The city opened its ports to outsiders in 1859, and 150 years later it exists in a lingering state of identity crisis – the mysterious love-child of a Japanese-Russian affair, where the city slopes are decorated with Russian orthodox and Roman catholic churches, and cobblestone paves the way to teashops and shrines. One minute, I’m standing under a towering orange gate; the next, I’m in a boat being rowed around a star-shaped fort.

Sapporo was all about the beeru. You just CAN’T (I’m yelling) go to Sapporo without getting to know their beer. Breweries played a major role in Hokkaido’s development in the Meiji Period, when the art of brewing was first brought to Hokkaido. Sapporo Lager was born, and lo and behold, the gold they’ve been brewing for over 100 years remains an important part of Sapporo’s rich culture. I learned all of this at the Sapporo Beer Museum, which was highly educational and – judging by the Dr. Seuss-esque displays – designed for children.

The rest of the time in Sapporo was spent drifting between East and West, devouring Genghis Kahn lamb and thin-crust pizzas, unwinding in rainy outdoor onsens and getting athletic at the Winter Sports Museum. (That was more humiliating than anything else... it turns out, I'm just as feeble at computer simulated sports as the real thing. Shocking, I know.)

Otaru was the last stop. This town is a popular day-trip location from Sapporo, with its canal district and rickshaw traffic. I could go into detail about the sushi and beer and yada yada yada, but every moment in Otaru has been eclipsed by the memory of eating a giant takoyaki. I fulfilled a dream I didn't know I had and it. was. phenomenal.

I had a bet going with Greg all week to see who could go the longest sans-Facebook, so I took to Twitter to fill the social networking void in my life. Have a look at my tweets to see my pictorial updates! twitter.com/chloerew

Spring Has Sprung .

“Tomorrow, the sun will rise and everything will be shiny.”
- D. Rew

Today is April the 9th. The sunrise woke me at 5:30, blushing red and purple behind the sakura trees. Spring is here.

The stubborn winter has drifted away, and the tell-tale signs of spring are everywhere. The air is getting warmer, coaxing the sakura out of hibernation; my kotatsu lays disassembled, nothing but a poorly deconstructed pile of shambles in my closet.

People are changing, like werewolves surrendering to the full moon. My secretary is 100 pounds heavier, her voice 2 octaves deeper, and she is actually a man. My office crush is nowhere to be found and my English teacher is beyond recognition, having put down the tinted glasses, retired the neon track suits and resigned to the fact that The Bangles are no longer #1.

The 80s, it would seem, are over.

。。。。。。。。。

I went to Izu for the weekend, in Shizuoka prefecture on the other side of Tokyo. I spent the weekend with my feet in the ocean and my head in the trees, and on Monday morning, I dragged by sandy feet back to a brand new workplace. It’s the start of a new school year, and as is typical in Japanese schools, there has been a major staff turnover at my junior high school. The notion of 30-year-veteran-teachers is a novelty in Japan - a myth, perhaps. Teachers are passed between schools and BoEs, rarely staying put for more than a few years. My first day back was filled with new faces, introductions and endless bowing.

A few constants remain. My job is the same. The office feels the same - everyone is bustling around, some busy with actual work, others just pretending. The teacher across from me is fast asleep, having dozed off mid-sentence. I've obviously been thinking about this too long - the admin guy is giving me the stink eye again. But I don't mind. I'm just going to sit here, stare at out the window at the cherry blossoms and think about the beach.

Just your average afternoon chase, really.

My afternoon jog took a bit of a bizarre turn the other day.

I signed up for next Saturday's Kumagaya Sakura Marathon (or 10 ks of it, rather). I've been suffering from a serious lack of motivation the past few weeks, but on Tuesday afternoon, a combination of nice weather and fear of embarrassment motivated me out of my danchi and into my runners.

I've got a route that I like. It's 10k, more or less (probably less). It takes me down my hill, over the bridge that looks over the mountains, past the shops that never appear to be open, and straight ahead until I reach the red barn. I distract myself with my thoughts, trying not to think about fatigue and sore feet.

So I'm running along, enjoying The Drums and the scenery, and I see the head of my Board of Education driving towards me. I give him a cheerful wave, but all I get back is this awkward smile that says "Oh... heyyyy." I know that smile. It's the kind of smile you give to psycho relatives you don't want to be seen with in public.

Odd, I thought. Sure, he was a little stand-offish when I first arrived, but I thought he'd warmed up to me after I learned a bit of Japanese and mastered the standard "Hello, how are you, nice weather, ne?" Apparently an afternoon job in Japan is more unconventional than I had thought.

But a few minutes up the road, I feel this frantic tapping on my shoulder. I turn around and this woman in an apron is trying to catch her breath, just gasping, "Sumimasen, sumimasen! Excuse me!" And I'm beside myself, totally confused and scouring the archives of my brain for some Japanese words that are appropriate in a "being-chased-while-jogging" scenario.

Konnichiwa? Genki desu ka? For the love of god, do I know nothing relevant in this situation??

While I'm working out how to say "Do you need medical attention," she catches her breath and starts asking me questions, just going straight for the small talk. And as she's talking, two things are running through my mind: a) This definitely explains the weird look my boss just gave me, and b) she ran an awfully long way in her apron for small talk.

Eventually I figure out that she's seen me in the neighbourhood and wants to use me for my English-speaking abilities, although the specifics are lost in translation. We walk back to her car (which was quite a walk, never mind a jog, showing her remarkable passion for English.) We exchange contact information and make some kind of English conversation date.

Yesterday evening, she had me over to her house, and I can't express how lovely the whole family is! We chatted over tea and cake, switching between Japanese, English and awkward silences. An hour later, I left with a bag of baked goods and a handful of grapefruits.

I've been going through a bit of a homesick hermit phase, but this, and the slow creep of spring, are helping ease me out of it.

Question Period/ My Life As An International Pop Sensation

In Japan, the school year starts in April, and with the year coming to an end, things are changing at school.

At my junior high, high school entrance exams are finally out of the way, meaning classes are getting a little less textbook and a lot more practical. For the last few weeks, my students and I have been doing a question-and-answer exchange. For 10 minutes a day, they write down a few questions for me to correct and answer, and hopefully teach them something about conversation along the way. The result has been a creative, bizarre, adorable glimpse into junior high curiosities often lost in translation, but thankfully not quieted by the fear of making a mistake.

Q: What Samurai do you know?

A: Excellent question. Before I moved to this fascinating country, everything I knew about Japan I learned from Hollywood. In fact, some of my favourite films and television shows growing up were centered around Japanese culture: 3 Ninjas. 3 Ninjas Knuckle Up. 3 Ninjas Kick Back. Sailor Moon. Unfortunately, none of those touched on samurai, so I'm going to have to go with Nathan Algren, as depicted by Tom Cruise in the 2003 blockbuster, The Last Samurai. Epic film, if I remember rightly.

Q: Who is love phantom for you?
A: The creativity of this one just blew me away. I don't even know how to answer. I tried approaching her in person for a bit of insight. This got me nowhere.

Q: Where are you going?
A: Right now? In life? I ask myself that question everyday.

Q: Lady Gaga is very beautiful and cool. How about you?
A: I am also very beautiful and cool. Thank you for asking.

Q: I like dog
A: Poor kid. Somehow her running out of ideas coincided with forgetting everything I've taught her about punctuation.

Q: How old do you want to marry?
A: I don't necessarily think about how I old want to get married - more like at what age will I no longer be okay with being a lonely old spinster who spends her spare time chasing cats in the parking lot and emailing pictures of them to her friends' digital picture frames despite being told to stop. I haven't narrowed down an exact number, but I'm not there yet, that's for sure.

This last one makes me laugh because of the order of the questions. He carefully planned each move, waiting for a green-light-answer before braving the next question.
- Do you like me?
 (Yes, you are a good student.)
- Do you have a boyfriend?
 (No.)
- How old do you want to marry? (Probably my late twenties or early thirties.)

- I want to marry in my late twenties, too!!!!
The uncharacteristic excitement he showed by the end of this is so cute, I just don't have the heart to tell him that by the time he's in his late twenties, I will be a 40 year old aforementioned psycho spinster, or remind him that I'm his teacher.

And of course, life is always exciting at the elementary schools. With varying levels of English/interpretations of my job description, Wednesdays and Fridays at the sho-gakko continue to get more bizzare. At my Wednesday school, I've been asked to teach the year 6 class "When You Wish Upon a Star." I agreed, partly because I knew I didn't have a choice, and partly because I thought I'd be lipsynching to a cd (wrong.)

One week, I'm a "guest speaker" in music class, giving a performance my kocho-sensei insists brought him to tears, the next week I'm blindly led into the multimedia room to give a concert with a microphone and a sound system. I always said that earning three quarters of my graduating credits in choir and vocal jazz would pay off one day, and here we are, world. 6 years later and I'm still reaping the benefits of my Mennonite education.

Thankfully, they did let me take a break from singing this week to do my signature holiday construction paper craft. Behold, Ms. Kuroee's Valentine's Day finger puppet. She'll look great next to my Jack-o-Lantern mask and Santa hat.

With all of the week's excitement, I enjoy a relaxing day at my Friday elementary school, where no one speaks English and everyone's too afraid to test my Japanese to ask me to do anything. This leaves me guessing a lot, but I'm never short on ideas for educational posters.



Happy Valentine's Day everyone.

Shrimps and Barbies.

A trifecta of sandy beaches in Sydney and bush walks in the Blue Mountains. Surfing in Byron Bay and Wagga Wagga Zoo break ins. Alley way roof-top beers and Fitzroy hipster-watching in Melbourne. What was supposed to be a simple 2 week holiday in Australia turned into a whirlwind tour of the East coast, my itchy feet showing blatant disregard for the holiday I planned to keep low-key by literally planning nothing at all. But my open schedule was too easy to fill up - too tempting to pack with Jetstar flights, train rides and road trips. My "low-key" trip didn't stand a chance. Here are but a few highlights from my 2 weeks in Australia.


1. Parking myself on Coogee beach with a pear cider in hand within an hour of landing at Sydney Kingsford Smith Airport.

2. Bush walks in the Blue Mountains with Johnny, catching up on the important things in life (ie: Hidaka, and the cricket) since we last saw each other in Japan.

3. Spotting a roo and her joey in the Blue Mountains.

4. Home-cooked meals and summer fruit salad from Johnny's southern mama.

5. Meat pies and cricket at the Sydney Cricket Ground for the Australia vs. India test match. Not knowing what was going on only added to the experience.

6. Byron Bay. Coconut sunblock, surfers and sun-kissed, Ray-Ban wearing beach bums selling strawberries on the beach. This place was paradise, and if my dying wish comes true and there's a 2012 remake of Point Break, it will be entirely cast by the people of Byron Bay.

7. Byron Bay's Backpacker Holiday Village. Like Koh Phangan's Coral Bungalows, with less vodka Red Bull buckets, but comparable numbers of Australians. This place reminded me of the joys of traveling alone, where all I had to do was sit next to a group of strangers, tell them I was all by my lonesome, and I was instantly in on a bucks weekend, sharing a bucket of goon cocktail over discussions of why the husband-to-be was wearing 8 pairs of underwear.

8. Bay Leaf Cafe, Byron Bay. If Winnipeg's Fresh Café and the Falafel Place had a baby, this would be it. Everyone here had piercings, tattoos, and unruly hair, and nothing could be heard of the chaotic yelling. I felt right at home.

9. Byron Bay's surfers. If I didn't have a job to go back home for, I could have stayed in Byron for the rest of my life — if only for the smoking hot surfers. At the risk of being too specific, my surf instructor, for example. Straight from the coast of California, with his sea-salt, sun-bleached hair and a vocabulary learned entirely from Surf Ninjas. We shared a high five and it was beautiful.

10. Melbourne. It's hard not to love a city where you spend your first night in Chinatown, at a BYO dumpling restaurant and drinking beers on a back-alley roof that I suspect doubles as someone's laundromat. Melbourne has everything I need in a city. Terraces at Federation Square, hipsters in Fitzroy. Street art, train stations, cafés, babes. It's no wonder I always like the locals so much. It's official. I'm going to have to rewrite my 5 year plan and move to Melbourne.

Doing What I Want To Do .

"I'm often asked, what do I do for a living? And I answer — I do what I want." Cee Lo

I went for an epic run last Sunday. The sun was out, I was feeling ambitious, and with my reappointment deadline having coincided with a sudden interest in my own future, I needed some time on the open road to think about where I am, what I’m doing and what I want. I parked my bike at Koma station and headed west, running alongside the train tracks and the mountains, stopping for temple-side breathers, mountain views, statues and scarecrows.

Just the backdrop I needed to contemplate life, love and other important things.




Without much deliberation, I'm renewing my contract for a second year. I love Japan, and not for the reasons I expected when I left Winnipeg 4 months ago. I anticipated sushi feasts and outrageous wardrobes. Wild nights in Tokyo, chaos and smoking hot Japanese hipsters.

And while I've found all of these things, they are not what keeps me here. I’m staying because I love Hidaka and the life I'm building here.

On the surface, Hidaka doesn’t have much. A cross between inaka (country) and suburbia, it's mostly houses and supermarkets separated by sidewalks and manicured trees. But I’ve grown to love my life here because of the little things that make me smile — forest bike rides to work; coffee conversations I pretend to understand; the pleasantly slow pace of life.

And the people I'm still getting to know — whose quirks and individuality I'm still uncovering beneath the language barriers. How I would miss my 3rd year girls who don't do their Thursday English homework because they know I eat lunch with them that day and am easily tricked into doing it for them; the joy I get from the 1st year boy who sits front and center and enthusiastically answers every question wrong — and I've only barely scratched the surface with my tofu salesman. He works out of the back of his van in my parking lot and blows a kazoo when he opens at 6 o'clock. What told him that was his calling, I will never know.

Some days I don't feel like facing the blank stares. Some days, I don't really want the only person I have a meaningful conversation with to be myself. And pretty much every day, I don't want to put on a Japanese accent so people will understand me. But there are too many things I would miss if I left in August, and that is what makes me sure that I am where I want to be, doing what I want to do be doing.

These are my thoughts on life. I will save love and other important things for another time.

Intro to Nommunication .

Nom-mu-ni-ca-tion: Noun. \ˈnō-ˌmyü-nə-ˈkā-shən\

• Definition: The Japanese practice of getting to know one's coworkers over a few (or many... or a weekend of...) drinks.

• Origin: A play on words taken from the Japanese verb "nomu" (to drink) and the English noun "communication."

• Purpose: to break down hierarchical boundaries, strengthen team spirit, and create embarrassing situations that no one will speak of ever again.

Forget Movember. It's been Nommunicember for the last 3 weeks, and my, has it been rewarding. Between nights out with the ladies and a staff trip to Gunma, I've been nommunicating like it's my job (which I think it is). Here are a few things I've learned through nommunication:

1. Whose favourite drink is a box of red wine.
2. Who is afraid of me, but only until we yell kampai (aka cheers). Then we're friends.
3. Which teacher is a "player" and "not good to the ladies." I can't tell you how strange this conversation was - mainly because said teacher was nodding in agreement.
4. Who loves hairy chests.
5. Who is disappointed her husband doesn't have one. (Hint - 4 and 5 are the same person.)
6. Who wants to get married (to the counselor who visits the school on Wednesdays, specifically.)
7. Who wears what colour of undies. Not something I necessarily needed to know, but after the first round, the yukatas got a bit loose.
8. Which teachers are too old for me to date (all except one, apparently, which suggests to me that the school nurse has an agenda.)
9. Whose children are certifiably insane.
10. That sake-pajama parties are probably the most fun anyone could have with their coworkers.

Of course, I always let a few of my true colours show for the sake of fitting in. Like the fact that everyone now knows my pajamas consist of Christmas bottoms and a fuzzy cat sweater. But you know what - I'm not even embarrassed about it.


In other news, it's getting a bit cold over here. Winnipeg's dry winters have not prepared me for this wet, cold air, and I'm not entirely sure how to deal with it. So I bought myself a wool sweater and a plane ticket to Australia. Just thinking about the beach warms me up!