All good things

(in no particular order)

my Mochigase
(Photo courtesy of James Thompson)

1. waking up with the sun at 5:36 AM

2. it being both Victoria Day and Eliza Doolittle Day

3. chocolate and the promise of more to come

4. a couple of unexpected emails

5. the fifteen-plus friends my students confuse (or do they?) for family

(Photo courtesy of M. W.)

6. unexpected smiles in unexpected places

7. the best-laid plans

8. peanut butter and banana sandwiches  

9. alone time

10. being chastised by my little sister for not trying my best in the 5 km race

harassing one of my Junior High School ichi-nensei (first grade)
students all the way to the finish line
(Photo courtesy of Adeline Loo)

11. public hugs and handshakes

12. runner's euphoria

13. song suggestions from around the world

14. a kekihodai (all-you-can-eat cake) and aisukurimuhodai (all-you-can-eat ice cream), after all

15. gifts and card from here and home

16. cool, clear water

17. having a quasi-legitimate excuse for not cleaning my apartment today

18. tokidoki wakata (sometimes understanding)

19. being somebody loved

20. kissing these faces in two months’ time 

21. enough sun to warrant another week’s worth of “kimchi face” comments from my Kawahara baseball boys

22. the internet

23. the patience and understanding of those around me

24. a rainbow of emotions

25. a walk to wonder at it all

26. sweet, sweet sleep

Monday, Monday

Sometimes Monday is nothing more than a reluctant return to the monotonous grind of another five-day countdown to freedom.

Sometimes Monday is the day you drag your violin to school to finally join the brass band club only to find out that the third graders - the leaders of club activities - are on a school trip in Tokyo, and the first and second graders go home after lunch so that the teachers are free to drive to their houses to talk with their parents. Long story short, with the exception of track and field, and baseball, there are no afterschool activities today.

Sometimes Monday is the day you leave school at exactly four PM because you've got no commitments, and the sun is calling, and you decide you’d better start thinking seriously about training for that 5-km run you (and a dozen awesome friends!) signed up for in a few weeks’ time.

Sometimes Monday has other plans, and, as you walk to the bus stop, a car stops in the middle of the main road and an older gentleman calls out to you, indiscernibly. You soon realize that he’s speaking English, asking, “Do you remember me?”

You don’t, but try to pretend you do. He’s not convinced. You feel guilty, which causes you to give up making excuses and get in his car already. And, off you go to a nearby onsen, where you strip naked with three old ladies, shower, and soak until you’re bright pink. Putting panty-hose back on is the only disagreeable part of this spontaneous outing.

Next, it’s introduction time, where your (name-still-unknown) host introduces you to his very good friend, Mr. Tanaka, who buys you a yoghurt drink, repeatedly calls you bizi (beauty), and insists on giving you a bag of freshly harvested bamboo shoots.

Then, it’s off to Hayashi-sensei’s (he’s given you such a thorough Japanese lesson over the last hour, you figure you ought to call him “teacher”) house so that his wife can show you how to prepare the bamboo shoots. This leads to an invitation to supper, followed by Chinese tea and oranges, discussions on Japanese rice versus varieties consumed in Canada, and, eventually, an offer to drive you home since the last bus to town left an hour ago.

Sometimes Monday is all you never knew you hoped it would be.