(First, an apology for disappearing from the blog lately - have been out of the danchi on various excursions, and my internet's been down. I promise to be better now.)
Today, about five minutes ago (4:45 in the afternoon) my section looked up when it heard the crackle of the PA system. No one was speaking, so we instinctively looked over to the microphone (visible from our desks). Miho, the voice of our Shitara Reports (Koho Shitara) was standing next to another town hall worker as he fiddled with the buttons.
Earlier this month, I was woken by a rather strong earthquake (no damage, but felt oddly nostalgic as the inside of my apartment transformed into the inside of a New York subway car). It was the strongest of a series of countless quakes that week, and put everyone a little on edge, as we are expecting a large earthquke in this general region (and here I've watered down the scale of the expected shaking so that my mom will still be able to sleep...) And on top of that, the typhoon season is far from over, with Typhoon 26 dumping on us for the past couple days. Today we finally had what seemed to be a perfectly clear day.
As the static went on, I was sure they were going to warn of a nearby erupting volcano, or some dangerous pollution in Shitara's prized water. When the announcement began, however, I couldn't help giggling. Apparently, taking advantage of the nice weather, a crafty con-artist had been posing as a door to door salesperson right here in the town. I wasn't sure what sort of thing the person was doing (I think getting people to enter into phony contracts and taking their money), but it seemed somehow comical that they made an announcement over the town loudspeakers to beware of this person, rather than stealthily arresting him or her and recovering the money. But then, I don't know anything about running a small town. The elderly, a major demographic in rural Japan, are extremely trusting, so it's a protective measure for them.
Well, I can make no promises for my personal safety in case of a natural disaster, but if there is anything I am probably immune to, it will be phony Japanese door-to-door salespeople. And the weird Hokkaido Milk Truck that comes around to the Danchi every few days.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Hiking, a Ride in a Fire Truck, and Killer Bees
I'm going to try not to be disappointed that I can't post all my adventures... Some exciting moments have been an all-night Brazilian beach party, a trip to an onsen, a trip to Nagoya, somehow Lost in Translation-esque overpriced drinks at the top of the Hilton... If I have a chance, I'll add those too.
For now, though, I'll stick to talking about this weekend. Yesterday, a bunch of city JETs came to our area for hiking and a party. Ten of us trecked through the woods ("This is nothing compared to Fuji," a couple of them kept reminding us - they'd climbed Fuji a couple weeks ago, and did not recommend it), and finally we got to a temple where some other hikers tried to recruit me for their sect of Buddhism. I was very suspicious.
We got back to Matt's house for a barbecue, and it started to pour. A few bolts of lightening, and the power was out. It was great fun to use candles and flashlights, but with ten people in a two room apartment, it got pretty hot pretty quickly. Hamish drove me home early because I had a softball game at 8:30 in the morning - he was a great sport about being the designated driver, but I know my turn will come as soon as I have a car.
This morning, I showed up at what I thought was the appointed spot, but it was deserted. Since no one had bothered to tell me the time of the game (last night, Ben said, you know our game is at 8:30, right? No? Oh, maybe I was supposed to tell you...), I called Ben. He also didn't know what was going on. We walked to the baseball field. Other than a weird security van with a picture of the WTC on the side, it was totally deserted. I suggested we try the hiking trail I had noticed behind a temple by Town Hall.
We had a beautiful walk, but it was mostly downhill. We decided we would probably have to hitchhike back in order to make it to the barbecue I was expected at (but, of course, didn't know about). We kept going a way, until we came to the first school house in Shitara, which was built in the 17th century. It continues to be a working temple. I was just wondering whether it was still used, when an old monk poked his head out and poured out a bowl of I-don't-know-what. "Good morning!" I called out. He stared at me for a few seconds then shut the sliding door.
We decided to turn around and head to the main road to catch a car headed back to Taguchi. We passed a run-down country store and I decided to buy a soda from the vending machine (they don't sell water around here - ginger-ale and a mysterious liquid that passes for juice were my only non-caffeinated choices). We sat down on the bench outside the store for a rest. Nearby, the volunteer fire department had been having practice. The session seemed to be over and people were leaving. A fire truck passed, and Ben called out. It backed up. It turned out to be Mr. Nanahara, related to the Mr. Nanahara who had first hosted me here. I suggested we get a ride with him. We got to ride in a Japanese fire truck! Apparently, smoking is permitted in the fire truck. We were introduced to his daughters, who had the mumps - what a bizarre disease.
Finally, we got to the barbecue. It was still only 11 am, but they kept insisting I have a drink. I resisted for most of the event. We ate lots and lots of bees. The most delicious were the killer bees. They fried them in oil. Apparently, the venom is broken down when they are cooked, so they are alright to eat. We think. One of the guys told Ben and me that if you ate too many, you'd get too sexually aroused, and your nose would start to bleed. Um, I guess I was able to temper myself well enough, and my nose didn't bleed (despite the fact that I've repeatedly injured it by walking into glass doors and swimming into dividers and...)
Well, cookies need to be taken out of the oven. Will post pictures soon.
For now, though, I'll stick to talking about this weekend. Yesterday, a bunch of city JETs came to our area for hiking and a party. Ten of us trecked through the woods ("This is nothing compared to Fuji," a couple of them kept reminding us - they'd climbed Fuji a couple weeks ago, and did not recommend it), and finally we got to a temple where some other hikers tried to recruit me for their sect of Buddhism. I was very suspicious.
We got back to Matt's house for a barbecue, and it started to pour. A few bolts of lightening, and the power was out. It was great fun to use candles and flashlights, but with ten people in a two room apartment, it got pretty hot pretty quickly. Hamish drove me home early because I had a softball game at 8:30 in the morning - he was a great sport about being the designated driver, but I know my turn will come as soon as I have a car.
This morning, I showed up at what I thought was the appointed spot, but it was deserted. Since no one had bothered to tell me the time of the game (last night, Ben said, you know our game is at 8:30, right? No? Oh, maybe I was supposed to tell you...), I called Ben. He also didn't know what was going on. We walked to the baseball field. Other than a weird security van with a picture of the WTC on the side, it was totally deserted. I suggested we try the hiking trail I had noticed behind a temple by Town Hall.
We had a beautiful walk, but it was mostly downhill. We decided we would probably have to hitchhike back in order to make it to the barbecue I was expected at (but, of course, didn't know about). We kept going a way, until we came to the first school house in Shitara, which was built in the 17th century. It continues to be a working temple. I was just wondering whether it was still used, when an old monk poked his head out and poured out a bowl of I-don't-know-what. "Good morning!" I called out. He stared at me for a few seconds then shut the sliding door.
We decided to turn around and head to the main road to catch a car headed back to Taguchi. We passed a run-down country store and I decided to buy a soda from the vending machine (they don't sell water around here - ginger-ale and a mysterious liquid that passes for juice were my only non-caffeinated choices). We sat down on the bench outside the store for a rest. Nearby, the volunteer fire department had been having practice. The session seemed to be over and people were leaving. A fire truck passed, and Ben called out. It backed up. It turned out to be Mr. Nanahara, related to the Mr. Nanahara who had first hosted me here. I suggested we get a ride with him. We got to ride in a Japanese fire truck! Apparently, smoking is permitted in the fire truck. We were introduced to his daughters, who had the mumps - what a bizarre disease.
Finally, we got to the barbecue. It was still only 11 am, but they kept insisting I have a drink. I resisted for most of the event. We ate lots and lots of bees. The most delicious were the killer bees. They fried them in oil. Apparently, the venom is broken down when they are cooked, so they are alright to eat. We think. One of the guys told Ben and me that if you ate too many, you'd get too sexually aroused, and your nose would start to bleed. Um, I guess I was able to temper myself well enough, and my nose didn't bleed (despite the fact that I've repeatedly injured it by walking into glass doors and swimming into dividers and...)
Well, cookies need to be taken out of the oven. Will post pictures soon.
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