India: Part 2-Building

Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.

-Mohandas Gandhi

He's so wise!

I arrived at Narita airport in Tokyo early on Christmas Eve morning and scoured Gate 23 for Denise, my flight partner, travel buddy and roommate for the next two weeks. We had talked via email and tried to skype the previous day to finalize our plans, but that was the day skype wasn’t working. Of course. I had no idea what she looked like or sounded like. I knew she had been in Japan 3 years, spoke great Japanese as her position in the JET Program is slightly different than mine, and I knew she was American. Needn’t worry. We obviously we found each other at the gate and boarded the plane together. It was weird to have a conversation with someone you’ve never met, all the while thinking, well we’re going to be inseparable for the next two weeks. She was amazing, and we were a great team. Couldn’t have asked for a better buddy!

We flew Malaysian airlines every leg of the international trip, HIGHLY recommended. I was obsessed with the food and service. I am also obsessed with Kuala Lumpar`s airport, also, HIGHLY recommended. It was like hangin on

5^th Ave

in New York. Classy shops, Starbucks AND Coffee Bean, English book stores AND a mini rainforest that opens to the outside. Right in the middle of the airport! I spent a total of 9 hours in that airport. I can give you a to-do things of must see things if you ever have a layover there. Between the service, the airport and the little video they show you before you land, I was sold. I am seriously considering Malaysia as my next vacation spot. Evidently it doesn’t take much to convince me to go to your country. English books, good coffee and nice weather and I’m there.

Then it was another 4 hour flight to Chennai. A far cry from the Malaysian airport. Denise and I powered through the airport, into a taxi and to the hotel. Arriving at about 11pm. A solid 18 hours or so of traveling and we had just enough time to shower and take a power nap, as we were set to get up at 4am and meet the rest of the group to drive to the train station for our 6am train. Getting up at 4 am became a theme on this trip. I saw the sunrise no less than 5 times over the course of the two weeks I was there.

We arrived in the hotel lobby to meet the other volunteers in our group. Meeting new strangers that you are going to be inseparable with for the next week is always an experience, just add jet lag, serious sleep deprivation and a sunless backdrop to the mix and you’ve got yourself a partaaaay.

We hopped in the car and got acquainted for the hour or so drive to Chennai train station. Ravi, our leader who founded ARV and served as our all around link to India, was with us the entire time. And I was ever grateful for that. He had booked our tickets and made sure we were there safely. No one dared talk to us, hassle us or ask to take our pictures with Ravi around, though it wouldn’t be long before we all got a chance to experience that. He led us to the correct platform and train car. Something that sounds so simple yet is far from it in India.

The train stations are crazy hectic, so much so that I never took a picture because I didn’t dare stop in the middle of all the madness. Travel books had pre-warned us that display information is often incorrect (ummm what?!) and when asking for help make sure to ask a legitimate person. All of which made me slightly nervous, and I was beginning to worry about the day Denise and I were going to have to do this on our own. With valid reason I would later find.

We were sitting in First Class India. First class meant we all had our own seat, the car was air conditioned and there were even outlets for us to charge stuff. The trains also had sleeper cars which we were advised against when traveling alone, and general class, aka cattle car status with benches instead of seats and about 3 times the amount of people in the car than there should have been. We were most grateful for our 1^st class status for the 7 hour train to Vijayawada. Where we then stopped at the ARV offices for a brief orientation and then it was off to lunch at a restaurant for one of the best meals I’d ever had. Then it was another 2 hour drive to Gudiavara, where we stayed in a hotel for the entire work week. Driving about a half hour every morning to Cheveru village, our Indian home.

The first work day, the 11 volunteers and Ravi piled into 2 cars, the majority of us riding in the bed of the truck, a favored spot, and drove to Cheveru. We passed tons of people in beautiful colored clothes, dodged emaciated cows in the middle of the road, drove on whatever side of the road was convenient honking to let people know we were passing, all while blasting Indian music. I loved it. I was incredibly nervous the first day, but after about a day I learned to exhale during the car ride, and the drives to and from the village became one of my favorite parts of the day. 

The first day we drove to the village, I was taking in all the scenery and wasn’t really paying attention to where we were. The cars came to a stop and became surrounded by people. Apparently we had arrived. They popped the back of the truck and we all hopped out. Immediately kids started yelling hello, we were handed massive, intricate flower necklaces as kids took our hands and led us down the street. Other kids threw flower petals on us as we walked and there were drummers in front of the pack leading the way. It was absolutely amazing. A whirlwind of colors, sounds, smells, laughter and languages. Hands down the best welcome I have ever been a part of J

Welcome to Cheveru!

We walked through the village until we got to the village volleyball court and then we all stopped. The drummers played a bit longer and we all started to take pictures and tried to absorb our surroundings. It was a lot to take in. When the music stopped, Ravi spoke in Telegu, the native language of the town, and we all went around saying our names and a short sentence. Basically we all expressed how excited we were to be here and what an amazing welcome that was. This was technically December 26th, but I think all of us made it Christmas in our minds. It was such a memorable day.

Then it was off to breakfast.

We ate all three meals at the village. All three consisted of some type of curry and all three were always delicious. The people who cooked for us only used bottled water and had been trained in how to wash vegetables etc. It was even more delicious to eat knowing weren’t going to get sick, and none of us did.  

Chai break

Breakfast

Every morning after breakfast we were split in to work groups and headed off to the different areas around the village. We all rotated between whitewashing, smoothing cement, assisting the masons and carrying bricks. During our down time we played with the kids, who constantly wanted us to come meet their parents and families. It was great to see so many people and the inside of so many homes.

The people in the village were some of the most beautiful people I had ever met, inside and out. Pictures are worth a thousand words, enjoy. 

                                       

 Faces of Cheveru

As a surprise gift we all received sarees! We chose the color we wanted and the tailer came the next day to take our measurements. On our final day in the village, which happened to be New Years Eve, we all put on our sarees and got dressed for a final village farewell party! The ladies of the village decorated our hands with henna and helped us put our sarees on. I added some mascara, which was then pass around the group. 

Being that we had been hot, sweaty and covered in paint all week and now had beautiful clothes and minimal amount of make up we looked like brand new people. The transformation was amazing!

We had the most amazing time in Cheveru, and experience I know none of us will ever forget. There were definitely some tears from all angles as we parted ways and the final car ride back to the hotel was silent as we all tried to process everything that happened. Even as I write this, 2 weeks later, I am still not sure I have a full grasp on what we we did, the difference it made, or how it has effected me. It seems everyday since I've been back I reference something that happened in India to something in my day to day life.


Our time in Cheveru ended Dec. 31 and come January 1st we were on our own. Everyone was going different directions. I was set to travel India independently with Denise, Brittany and Beth, other volunteers from the group. Next stop Taj Mahal.

India: Part 1-The Country

After spending a good two weeks in this unique country, I was trying to figure out how I was going to blog about it, and every time I started, I got slightly overwhelmed. I just had too much to say. Between our work there, traveling and the culture shock we all went through, I decided it was too much for one post. So I’m going with three. One on the country, one on our volunteer work and one on my travels. Hope this helps to simplify things for everyone, I know it did for me, enjoy!

The minute I touched down in my current home of Japan, people kindly asked me, with an ever hopeful tone, “How was India?!”

“It was goooood!” I would reply, with some hesitation in my voice. They clearly heard it as I was then pressed for more answers.

“So what did you do, how were the people…how were the toilets?!”

All valid questions I must say.

I had been back merely hours before I was faced with this conversation, and I had spent the past 20 hours of travel trying to decide how to answer these inevitable questions. I had no idea where to begin. It is hard to describe India, a country like none I had ever been to, without explaining the entire story. Clearly people didn`t sign up for a 3 hour lecture when they asked how my winter vacation was, but I couldn`t think of any other way to describe it other than to just spill it all. My answer came out in spurts and in random sentences. I was essentially talking in circles as I tried to make sense of the experiences I just had. In order to simplify things for myself and help me reflect on my time there, I came up with some key words. I decided to come up with adjectives to describe the country, neither positive, nor negative, simply objective.

In a nutshell India is…colorful, photogenic, poor, pushy, dusty, multilingual, aggressive, beautiful, dirty, smelly, loud, smiley, unsanitary, on guard, congested, humid, smog filled and delicious.  

I’ve traveled quite a bit for my age (now 24, ohmygod) and I can safely say, having been to both poor and rich countries, and everything in between, this country was like nothing I`ve ever experienced. We arrived in Chennai to a humid, crowed airport, where we quickly became the clear minority. I traveled with one other girl from the program, Denise. Us two little American white girls have never felt more out of place. This coming from round eyes living in Japan. The airport was loud and aggressive and it promtly became everyman for itself. The complete opposite of the country that we had just flown out of, which operates with the group in mind. We put up our guards, grabbed our luggage, converted our yen to rupees and headed to find ourselves a prepaid taxi to the hotel. All the while ignoring constant offers from men for a taxi, following us, talking, sometimes yelling, in our ear, asking us where we wanted to go, “taxi, taxi ma`am, taxi, 20 Rupess, taxi ma`am, good deal, taxi, taxi, taxi, taxi.”

I fully understand why celebrities hit paparazzi.

That little taste of aggressiveness was only the beginning. Coming from Japan, where everyone stands in line and waits their turn, all in the name of harmony, was a far cry from India`s belief system. They seemed to run on the idea that if you had money to spend, you were entitled to literally shove and push your way to the front of the line, slip your money under the window and take your ticket. I wanted to shove these people. But given that I had a death grip on my bag at any given time it was rather difficult. Needless to say it quickly became apparent that the money equals power phrase held steadfast in this country. Which leads me to my next observation, every ones desire to earn money.

India is a third world country. We all know that.

The water is poor. Leading people to get ill from drinking it, fortunately for us we had a plethora of bottled water that we used. Exclusively. We`re talkin teeth brushing and sometimes hand washing.

The air is terrible. The black clouds of smog and dirt that hovered continuously were like nothing I’d ever seen, at times we would blow our nose and find our tissue black. Yes it was gross, but I was starting to really feel for these people who had to breathe it on a daily basis, for their entire life.

People would go to the bathroom on the side of the road, both number 1 and number 2. One morning I saw a man reading a newspaper while he did what we do every morning behind closed doors.

Brittany and my, don't screw with us face
Not today India, NOT. TODAY. 

And everyone wants to make a buck. Well in this case, a rupee. They`re desperate, and that is where I believe their pushiness comes from. They would constantly try to hire themselves to us as tour guides or our drivers for the day, when really all we wanted was a one way ride to the bazaar. No Mr. Taxi man, we do not want you to wait for us and drive us home. No we do not want you to take us to your friend’s saree shop. No we do not want you to then take us to a tailor. At one point I got so frustrated at having this conversation with every driver that I yelled, cutting him off midsentence. `NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,` I screamed, `Take us. Drop us off. And leave.` He immediately responded with, `Ok, but first saree shop?,` `NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,` I yelled again, this time glancing in the rear view mirror making eye contact with him. As I gave him a, you gotta me effing kidding me face. I saw him smile. We were all clearly aware of what was going on. He actually turned out to be one of our favorite drivers, and he teased us the entire ride, ultimately taking us exactly where we wanted to go and leaving just like we asked.

We were all constantly going through a tug of war with our emotions, between empathy and frustration. It was an exhausting trip on so many levels.

One of the things that shocked me the most was how multilingual everyone was. I knew everyone in India spoke English, thank God. But watching people on their cell phones switch languages mid conversation beyond impressed me. Even the taxi drivers or beggars’ on the street, people you may think were not the most educated, seemed to be fluent in at least two, probably three languages. It blew me away. The multilingual factor doubled with how poor the country was, was a combination I wasn`t expecting. In any other country having the ability to speak two or more languages puts your resume on the top of the pile. Apparently I associate it with high intelligence and monetary success and while India was multilingual everywhere I went, it was also poor across the board. I know there are Indian people with some big money, but everywhere I went I saw little to no money. It just amazed me that as a whole the country could be so poor.

All in all we had a great time. I took some of the best pictures I had ever taken there simply because it was hard to take a bad one. We found that once we got past people’s doing business facade they were some of the kindest people we had ever met. India really is one of the most unique, amazing and fascinating places I’ve ever visited. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was going to encounter when I got there, and it was that shock that made my experience what it was.

India is definitely worth a visit. Just be prepared to be shocked from all angles. 

The Norm for Me, A Chuckle for You

I was talking to a friend the other day telling them about my day and they started laughing. I have been here so long that I’ve forgotten that what may seem completely normal to me at this stage in the game, is still very foreign for most. Here are few stories that sum up my day to day life.

Jogging.

I am a girl who jogs. This is big news here in Japan. I figured this one out when I did my self-introduction for the first time.

Hello, my name is Kate.

I am 23 years old.

I am from California in America.

My hobbies are jogging and playing soccer. 
Not a total lie, but it should be noted that the fact that I could pronounce those words had a great deal to do with while they were chosen to describe me.

Then it was usually time for questions from the audience. The first question was almost always, what do I want to see or do while in Japan. Valid question. I always answered with, I want to hike Fuji. Valid answer.

A stifled gasp followed by a slight head tilt would inevitably spread throughout the audience.

It took a while to figure out why I was getting such a reaction of shock from my little brunetted audience. So I took my question to where I take all my Japan related questions. Ian.

“Big Bro, why do these people look perplexed when I say that I like soccer and running?”

He explained that he thinks it’s rare for girls to say they like sports, and then to say that I enjoy two, AND want to hike Fuji, was basically too much activity for them to handle. I envisioned them pondering whether or not they could somehow sneak me on to the Japanese Olympic team.

I kept that thought in the back of my mind as I gave my self-introduction over and over again. I watched for reactions, it was a mix of shock and awe. I deduced that Ian’s theory was correct. To add to the confusion, during these self intros I would usually be dressed in a suit with pearl earnings and make up. I could see a few of them trying to picture what I would look like in shorts and ponytail, accented with a few beads of sweat. By look on their faces, they just couldn't conjure up such an image.

As time passed, it became accepted at Gochuu that I was in fact, athletic. So much so, that the sentence Kate likes soccer, appears on average, in about one English lesson a month. As the students and faculty at Gochuu made their peace with the fact that I enjoy outdoor activities, the uniqueness factor began to die down. What I failed to realize was that the rest of Kamagaya had yet to join them.

I have taken to jogging up and down one the main roads here in my little hometown of Kamagaya. I usually jog at night, though the road is familiar, the one I take to go to the grocery store in fact, it’s well lit and there are usually other pedestrians. It’s completely safe. Hear that mom and dad…COMPLETELY. SAFE. Occasionally as I jog I’ll see other joggers, usually men, who almost do a double take as I run by, but I just smile and they simile back. End of story.

Except one time.

I had recently added Bon Jovi’s greatest hits to my ipod which by default lead me to run a little too fast around the Pachinko casino. I was stopping at the corner to stretch and catch my breath. I was stretching under a light…hear that mom and dad, UNDER. A. LIGHT., when I saw an older couple walking toward me. I glanced up and saw them, unintentionally making eye contact with the man. He smiled, I smirked back and continued stretching. They continued walking toward me. He a few steps in front of her. As I stretched my hamstring I wondered if he had ill intentions. It’s Kamagaya, so it was a safe bet that wasn’t the case, though if it was, he was doing a hell of a job hiding it behind a smile and a wife. He came closer. Still on the defense from living in San Francisco, I stood and took out one of my head phones. He was only getting one of my ears, Bon Jovi had made previous reservations.

I let out a, Konbanwa.

He replied with the same. We had established it was a good evening, what the hell did he want?

He smiled and I skeptically did the same. The man was 50 plus and had a limp. 
I had a feeling I was going to make it.

Joggingu?! He asked, mixed with the slight gasp and head tilt that had become all too familiar.

Hai. I said as sincere as possible, while trying to hide the, Is this seriously a real conversation? thought that was running though my head. Evidently he needed clarification for what he thought he was seeing.

With the raise of an eye brow, he let out a satisfied, hump, and asked if I was from America.

Hai, Amerikajin desu. California kara kimashita. 
If he was already surprised to see me running, I might as well just push him over the edge with the fact that I was from the movie screen state.

I watched his face as he looked me up and down, checking off the stereo types he knew from both the small and silver screen.

Fit...yup

High pony tail...yup

Blonde...nope

Big boobs...hahaha...um no.

I felt like he was looking at something he’d only seen in movies. And in fact he probably was. Kind of like when you go to the zoo as a kid and you happen to visit the elephants the day one of them is giving birth, and even tour guide Judy is excited. “You all are here on a VERY special day,” she explains, “Brenda has been due for some time now and… OOOOO there she comes! Even I’ve only seen pictures of this! I’m sure you will all be telling you friends and family about this when you get home!” Why yes Judy, yes we will.

So there I was. The equivalent of Brenda the pregnant elephant. Exactly what he had seen in the movies, but never in real life, let alone in his own backyard. He knew we Californian girls at the ripe age of 23 worked out, and he had seen a real live one. I`m sure his friends were going to hear about this. I could only hope that one of them works at Gochuu and could causally add, “Ya, and she plays soccer too.”

Kate “The Novelty” Sensei.


The title is strictly objective. I swear.

Upon arriving here in little Kamagaya, more specifically my middle school, Gochuu, I became the fascination of most of the students, and even some of the teachers. I was tallerish than most, though only 5`4``, I wore clothes that were different from what they had seen, I can run and get dirty yet be girly during the day, I wear nail polish and have pierced ears. I wear three rings on my fingers though I am not married, a concept that is still difficult for them to grasp. Mind you, none of my rings are on my left ring finger. My hair is a lighter color, so much so that I often get asked what color it is. They aren`t quite sure how to classify something that isn`t as dark as theirs or obviously blonde.

When I answer simply with brown or light brown, they looked shocked. By the looks on their faces, brown just doesn`t seem to be a sufficient enough answer for what they were looking for. I think they were expecting some crazy crayola color that is overly descriptive. Instead of brown I should be more thorough next time with, `Naturally brown, but went to Costa Rica last summer where it turned slightly blonde and has yet to grow out completely.` Try that one on for size kiddos.

But as time went by, all my nail polish, rings and unique hair color became quite normal to them. The amount of time I got called cute or kawaiiiiii in a day, was beginning to dwindle from 5,489,574,876 to only 1,000. Bummer. But I thought it was probably about time for my head to deflate anyway. I began to become less of a big deal, allowing me to talk a little more with both the teachers and students, and having them get to know me, Kate, not red nail polish girl from America. All was going smoothly until, day by day, they began to discover something new about me.

The realization: I can type…fast.

`SOOOOOOOOOOOOO fast Keito!! Sugoy!` they would say as I wrote an email or was Gchatting with 6 friends. Clearly working hard. I would smile, and do my best to dismiss it. But they wouldn`t let it go. Everytime I type anything, I get a few glances and they smile and shake their head in awe. Sometimes Keima will stand and applaud me. Just as that factoid was coming to a close I made the poor decision to respond to a text on my iphone (completely acceptable here, as is clipping your toe nails in the teacher`s room but thats another story) and that just about sent them over the edge. They were seriously in awe and now speechless. I had no explanation for this one and was tired of telling them what a big deal it wasn`t, so I just smiled and said, `Arigato.`

The truth: I type no faster than any of you. Promise.

The realization: I can drink…a lot.

It was time for an enkai. Drinking party, remember. We arrived, beers were set in front of us. We clinked glasses and took a sip. I, unlike my coworkers remained sober after that sip. They were instantly buzzed and completely hammered after the beer. After one I was feeling good, though still completely composed. My volume level had not gone up, nor were things as funny as everyone else seemed to think they were, and the biggest shocker of them all...I wasn`t bright red. I was continually asked if I was ok, worried that I wasn`t having fun. When in fact, the exact opposite was true, I was having a grand time! I ordered another beer. By now I was on number 3. More giggly, but still very much in control. Realizing that I was on number 3 and not acting much different than I was after one, word got out that I can drink. Which simply meant that I wasn`t as out of control as they were after having equally as many beverages.

I was immediately drilled with questions. I had no idea how I was supposed to answer them. Why do I not turn bright red  after a sip of alcohol? Well that would be because I`m not Japanese folks. But I couldn`t say that. So I went the other direction. `I`m half Irish,` I offered and shrugged. `HONTOOOO?!!!` three people said in unison. Yes, really I am. Word spread down the pillow seats like wild fire. She`s Irish, She`s Irish, She`s Irish, Hai Keito Sensei Irish. Hai honto! It was a modern day version of telephone. Only the alcohol had allowed the rules to be altered and instead of whispering to the person next to you, the game became to make sure the person two down from you knows. Hai, Irish, that`s why she can drink! I heard again. Another beer was placed in front of me. And some sake. They were doing their best to meet my Irish needs. Maybe this little realization isn`t so bad.  My Irish needs were leading to free drinks.


Did I mention, I`m German?

The truth: I am half Irish, German and Slovenian for that matter. Though I am not any stronger of a drinker than any of you reading this…except you Japanese people. You I have beat.

The realization: I have green eyes.

Since I have been here, I have discussed with students the visible differences in our appearance. As I stand in front of them every day, they have had plenty of time to take this all in. Yes, I have light brown hair, Yes, I have lighter and rounder eyes, Yes, my clothes are different, No, I am not a fashion model, Thank You for saying I`m cute.

Recently, a few girls learned the word beautiful, and upped the ante. 

As the months wore on in to winter, the compliments on my physical features dwindled, but those in the clothing arena were just gearing up. The girls clearly have my wardrobe down, and anytime I wear anything new, usually sent from home (THANKS MOM!) I receive complements all day. This also comes in the form of a great inhale and ooooos and ahhhs when I walk into the classroom in the morning. It`s great.

The other day I was helping a little girl the best I could with her 1 minute speech. She had written it in Japanese and we were trying to translate her simple sentences into English. It was going to be awhile so I pulled up a chair next to her. She had chosen the topic option of Respectable Person. On the worksheet, Keima had made, were pictures of Ghandi, Einstein and even Obama as examples. She chose Miley Cyrus.

I was trying to figure out what she was telling me so I could tell her what to write in English, when she literally put down her pencil and started at me. She said something to her friend in front of her who was also trying to help us translate. You should know that any conversation I attempt to have with any of these kids generally takes the assistance of anyone within earshot.

Now they were both staring. `Nani?!` I said with a chuckle. Neither of them new the word for eye so girl number two opted for plan B. Charades. She pointed to her eye. Unintentionally poking herself which diverted our attention, only for a moment, to check she was ok. The minute we determined she was fine, their heads immediately shot back to my face. `Nani?!` I said again a little more genuine. While they stared I was racking my brain trying to think of what was different about me today. Other than my scarf which we had previously discussed the moment I hit campus, nothing else was new.  

One of them was able to mutter the word color, and I laughed. `Ahhh, green?!` I guessed in English, then offering the Japanese, simply because I knew it, `midori?!` That`s right ladies and gentlemen, my eye color in Japanese is the same as my favorite cocktail, Midori sour. Coincidence? I think not.

They both nodded vigorously. I`ve been here 3 months, surely this would have been covered by now. Then I realized that all the time I`ve been here, they haven`t really seen me up close, evidently not close enough to notice my eye color. I am usually up at the board or kneeling next to them helping with a worksheet, rarely are we face to face.

The girls were now trying to tell me something. After a brief pow wow with each other, Eye Poker screamed, Chinese angles! I looked to the Miley Fan for assistance. She nodded in agreement. No help there. I didn`t have a clue. `Chineeeeeseeee angles?!` I said again, `Chinese?!` She nodded. This couldn`t be right. My mind shot to any Chinese movie I could think of, which was none. I tried to connect the green eyes to anything Chinese and came up empty handed. I was about to get up and get a map when she said it again. This time I heard, Charlie`s Angles. `OHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!` I let out. I couldn`t help it. We all laughed and I high fived them for good communication and the fact that we did this without Keima.

Eye Poker said something again in Japanese and I figured she wanted me to name the actresses that played in the movie. All I could think of was Cameron Diaz. Not even knowing if that was what she wanted me to do, I offered Cameron`s name. Eye Poker and Miley Fan were VERY excited. `Hai, Hai!` they pointed to their face then mine and said, Cameron Diaz. For clarification, I pointed to my own face and said, `Cameron to Keito, onagi?! Honto?!` Which literally translates to, Cameron and Kate, same. Really?! I didn`t know the word for face so that significant part of the sentence came in the form of pointing. And see you thought my Japanese was getting good.

They give a firm nod to expresses that was exactly what they ment. They were overjoyed and completely satisfied with themselves. It was official, I look like Cameron Diaz.

The Truth: I look nothing like Cameron Diaz. Oh, and my eyes are actually hazel.



Culture Shock…In My Own Culture

This past weekend I grabbed the only semi fancy dress I brought and headed to Fussa with my friend Nicola, to attend the US Air Force`s Christmas party. Random I know.

The previous weekend, I went out with a few friends in the Roopongi area of Tokyo, and every time we go out there are always new people added to the group. Friends of friends, former exchange students, new neighbors etc. That was where I met Nicola. She...well to be honest I am not quite sure how she got into the group, but it didn`t matter in the slightest. We hit it off, and when R.J., also part of our going out crew that night, and a logistics Lt. in the U.S. Air Force, invited us the following day to his squadron`s Christmas party the following weekend we were in. At the same time having no idea what we had signed up for.

Nicola and I met up in Tokyo and took the remaining hour long train to Fussa where R.J. kindly retrieved us from the station, and we headed to get checked in so we would be allowed on base. Those working at the check-in point obviously spoke English, though I am proud to say that I understood what they told me in Japanese. Or at least the gist, which at this point is good enough for me.

As soon as we were in, we headed straight for the food. The base is essentially mini America, a concept I struggled with the entire time we were there. We ate at Burger King, Nicola`s favorite. I didn`t get anything and held out for Taco Bell, WITH cinnamon twists and Starbucks. I was curious to see if they would take my American gift card, turns out no.


Then it was off to the commissary, where they have anything and everything you could want. We spent a solid 3 hours in the grocery store, buying as much as we figured we could carry back on the train the following day. I was shocked to see things I hadn`t seen in so long, yet looked so familiar. I was even more shocked to be able to read everything in the store. I left spending only 50 bucks and took home pop tarts, s`mores ingredients, (something the other non American ALTs haven`t had either), mac & cheese, pretzels, vitamins, lotion (way cheep), oatmeal in individual packets, Gatorade (also learned that it`s illegal in NZ, made me slightly nervous), brownie with walnut mix, my favorite peanut butter granola bars, my favorite marinade, an Oprah magazine, and so much more. I also took 3 packets of gravy mix to give to my teachers at school. I had been doing Thanksgiving Lessons all week, and by then they had all heard it mentioned but never experienced it. I also gave Namiko a box of mac & cheese for her kids to try. I can`t wait to hear what they think!

We legitimately spent 15 minutes deciding Pop Tart flavors.

Tourists? I think so.

For all your American needs.

View of Fuji from the parking lot.

Then it was off to R.J.`s to get ready! He ran Ksenia, a now mutual friendJ, to the train station while Nicola and I transformed ourselves. Then we were off!

Merry Christmas!

We arrived, got some drinks, ate some food, watched the raffle which gave away AMAZING gifts, and had a generally good time until it was 12pm and we had to get out. We all headed for another bar, a few more actually, our little group had grown by then and we were quite loud as we made our way to each bar. I was slightly embarrassed for us. The night was great, met some new people and had a great time. Japan needs to get up to speed on the no smoking indoors, it kills me every time. Other than that we had so much fun!

R.J., Nicola & I

We were out until about 5 am, which meant that the better part of the next day was spent sleeping and lounging. Though Nicola and I did rise to eat the breakfast R.J. made us, poached eggs with cheese on an English muffin, AND his first time poaching an egg. We`re so proud J

We ate Subway (Amazing!) and Nicola and I bagged and double bagged our loot and trekked home, where I promptly washed the dress I`d worn the night before and anything it touched in my bag during transport. I want that smoke nowhere near me.  

Culture Shock

I really did have an amazing weekend, but I also was legitimately in culture shock the entire time. This was not Japan. Not even close. There were white people (seriously weird for me to see), blonde kids, people speaking English, overweight people, dogs that don`t fit in your purse, people cussing, tattoos, and everyone seemed to talk about a decibel louder than they needed to. The portions at the fast food restaurants were larger than those of fast food restaurants in Japan, people didn`t seem to be as polite, and everyone seemed to be all about themselves and exuded a sense of entitlement. And I didn`t like it. At all.

Again, this was not Japan. By then I had come to terms with that. But this was also not the America I knew either.


I was just being shocked from all angles! I am surprised to see how much Japan had become my home, how comfortable I have become here. Being on base was almost "too easy". I have come to accept that on a daily basis I will not understand 100% of what is going on around me, nor will people fully understand what I am saying. And I have kind of learned to enjoy the challenge.


Mata ne!
Keito

Jovi. Bon. Jovi.

It`s my lifeeeeeeeeeeeee, it`s now or neverrrrrrr, I ain`t gonna live foreverrrrrrr...

                                                                                                                                      -Bon Jovi

He really has a way with words doesn`t he, that Bon? Not only is this one of my favorite songs, it also has become my motto lately. I am doing everything and anything I can in the time I have in this lovely country of the rising sun. I have made the conscious decision to say yes to just about anything I am invited to do as well as be proactive in experiencing as much as possible. That being said, when Jessica, my good friend and fellow resident of Japan, invited me to a Bon Jovi concert at Tokyo Dome, it went without saying that I would be there December 1 screaming at the top of my lungs.

And I was.

Last Wednesday, Jessica took the 3 hour bullet train from Aomori to Tokyo, with one of her co-workers and her husband. I took the train to Tokyo Dome with Sinapi and we all met each other with hugs, bows and handshakes. Then it was off to find food and somewhere to store Jessica`s bag.

Welcome to Tokyo Dome City!

Yasuo, Keiko, Jesshka & Keito

We easily found a spot for Jessica`s bag in a large locker, and opting to eat inside the venue due to the waits at the surrounding restaurants, we headed to get in a large line that would allow us to then get in smaller lines to buy specific merchandise. It was incredibly organized and went buy faster than I thought it would. Well done Japan.

Proud owner of Bon Jovi tickets!

Jessica, Kate & Snapz

Once inside, we grabbed a hot dog and a beer. Upon checkout I made a last minute decision to buy the most expensive pack of oreo`s I had ever seen. I hadn`t seen them since I`ve been here and I LOVE Oreo`s. Best decision I made all night.

You don't want to know how much they cost...

We split from Jessica`s co-worker and her husband. They were there celebrating their anniversary, and headed to the floor to watch the show. We headed to the ceiling.

If we stretch enough we can touch the ceiling

The concert was AMAZING!! Mr. Jovi is going on 50 and goin strong I must say. We stood the large majority of the time, unlike most of those around us, which blew my mind. How do you not stand when he sings, Livin on a Prayer?! I mean really. We sang/screamed along to all the songs we knew, and even some we didn`t. We left with sore throats and matching T-shirts, all in all we had a blast!

Jessica was spending the night at my little apartment and taking the bullet train back the following afternoon. We hit up McDonald`s for her on our walk home, as she doesn`t have one in her town. Then it was a late night talk as we synced up our latest life stories, needn`t worry we`re now on the same page again.

We had big plans the following day to go in to Tokyo and play before sending Jessica on her way. I had taken the day off Thursday to stay and hangout and max out my Jesshka-san time, but the late night talk led to a late morning. By the time we arrived in Tokyo we only had a few hours to hangout before parting ways. We ate lunch in Tokyo main station at Dean & Deluca, the only one in Japan I believe. God I love that place. So expensive, but such a treat. Then we were on a mission to find a purikura booth, one of those very Japanese photo booths to take pictures. We have both done it a few times, but never with each other and we were determined to change that. We looked high and low, even asking the information desk. Evidently there were none to be found in the station, and we finally determined that we would put it on the list for next time, so Jessica would not miss her train.

We hugged goodbye and I was left to wander Tokyo. I love the city. I love all cities. I am a city girl to the core for sure. I put on my ipod, of course to Bon Jovi, and literally walked circles around Tokyo. I was careful to keep an eye on Tokyo main station, so I wouldn`t get too lost, a skill that comes quite naturally to me. I took pictures of anything and everything I thought was beautiful. I have always wanted to take up photography, to be honest I feel like I have a pretty good eye, but I am just not sure how to make my pictures look as amazing as others I see. I heard once, that it`s not the camera that takes the pictures, it`s the photographer, but I don`t really think that`s entirely true. 


Here are a few shots of Tokyo in all its fall glory.

I ended up at a bookstore I had been to before. They had English books on the top floor, so that is exactly where I headed. I found a reasonably priced TIME magazine, listing the 100 most fascinating people of 2010. I have been feeling quite out of touch with the world so I thought this would be the perfect way to remedy that. Though when I glanced at the date, I saw that it was from May. Maybe I won`t be as up to date as I had hoped. Oops. Whatever, it`s still 2010, they`re still fascinating. Either way it made my hour train ride home significantly more enjoyable.

I also left with a simple Japanese to English, and vice versa, crossword book. I needed some sort of activity book to keep up my Japanese ability, and this seemed to be just that. I headed to Starbucks to try it out. It took me about 35 min but I completed one! There is a glossary in the back, but I am proud to say I knew most of the words, just checking to see how the sounds were divided up.

Well lookie what I can do!

It was a great mid-week break. So fun!

Livin' on a prayer,

Kate