Would you like some NYAN with your coffee?

Japanese people love cats: Fact. 

There is even a cute sculpture known as Maneki Neko/ Lucky Cat who is beckoning with his paw for good luck and fortune to come inside.

Finding an apartment that allows pets of any kind is akin to searching for the Holy Grail: Fact.

Since most apartments are decidedly NOT pet friendly, the enigmatic Cat Café was born.

Cats will sleep where they are most disruptive: Fact

Cat Cafes are exactly what they sound like-a café filled with cats. I’ve been to several but my new favorite is in Omiya, just 5 stops down the train line. At Neko Café, you spend 1000 yen to get a beverage like juice or coffee or tea and an hour’s worth of time in the café. There are tons of books, manga, and even a computer and massage chair surrounded by fluffy comfortable couches and, oh yes, cats. There are about 15 in this particular café. Some are precious and some are so ugly they border on adorable.

So ugly he was adorable!

 I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss my cat like crazy, as nice as it is not having to be responsible for a pet over here. The past few weeks have taken a toll on my blood pressure, so petting some cute kitty-cats was almost exactly what the doctor ordered.


There is even a special package price if you want to stay 3 hours! I’m thinking that it would be a good place to go on a rainy day just to relax.


The staff was friendly, the café was clean and didn’t smell at all, and the cats were stinkin’ adorable! I mean, have you ever even seen a Munchkin Cat? They look so goofy with their tiny legs that you can’t help but laugh at them!

O-Town

It crept up on me again. The insatiable wanderlust I’ve had for as long as I can remember. Even if doctors find a cure for it one day, I will refuse any and all treatment. Traveling and exploring and experiencing are when I feel most alive.

For St. Patrick’s Day weekend I flew down to Osaka to meet up with some friends. I hadn’t seen Meagan since our India experience (there’s no other way to describe that trip), and I hadn’t seen Joey since Tokyo Orientation and the Los Angeles Pre-Departure hotel party in a bathroom that had a tub full of ice and alcohol.

Almost the instant Meagan and I were reunited at the airport we started acting like our normal, ridiculous selves. Poor Joey had to put up with it for the next 4 days, but in the end he joined the Dark Side and participated in the ruckus!

Osaka is a crazy city. To quote, albeit with some minor changes, “you will never find a more wretched hive of hedonism and debauchery”. Osaka made its mark as a merchant city. As such, back in the day money changed hands quickly and the city grew to be one that took pleasure in earthly delights-namely food. Nowadays it’s well known for delicious street food, dance clubs, business, host clubs, hostess clubs and being a great stepping stone into the Kansai region. It’s bright, it’s loud, it’s dirty (by Japanese standards) and its atmosphere is gloriously laid back and fun in comparison with snooty, uptight Tokyo to the north.

I loved it, yet I wouldn't want to live there.

Throwing salt to purify the ring

Are you not entertained?!

 Our first day, our trio went and saw Sumo with a big group of JETs from Wakayama. This was my second time viewing the sport, and I definitely liked it better this time around. I was very surprised to see that there were quite a few foreign wrestlers in the ring. It’s been a trend over the past few years that the top wrestlers have been Mongolian, but at this particular event there were at least 5 in the more serious matches. 

The evening was spent getting dressed up, coordinating with Meagan’s Kagoshima JET friends and going in search of an Irish bar for St. Patrick’s Day. Eventually, we found a place where we could have a few drinks, then stumbled our way to late night karaoke.

Interesting Teigan Trivia: I do not pride myself on my math skills, but apparently a little alcohol and a lot of sleepiness make me gifted. We took a taxi home early Sunday morning and I was sleeping for most of it. The moment the car stopped moving and the driver told us our total my head snapped up and I spouted out what each of us owed individually. Then promptly went back to sleep.

Sunday was spent sleeping in and slowly exploring the city. We managed to drag ourselves through the rain and go to Osaka Castle, which is very beautiful on the outside but, in my opinion, lacks a certain authenticity inside. I wasn’t keen on paying to go inside, so we ended up meandering around the grounds and eating Sakura (Cherry Blossom) flavored ice cream. Not a bad way to spend the afternoon!

Osaka castle

I put on my Tour Guide Teigan glasses on Monday and herded the gang into Kyoto. Although the sakura weren’t blooming, we still found the place lovely. As we strolled through the old entertainment district, Gion, we spotted several maiko and Geisha. Their kimono, hair, and make up are all simply breathtaking.

Entrance gate to Kiyomizudera

A maiko on her way to work in Gion

The highlight of the trip for me personally was the quick visit we made to the Human Rights Museum in Osaka. Understand that no country is perfect (the United States in particular has yet to own up to several events that I personally find abhorrent), but sometimes Japan comes off as this blessedly perfect nation rich in cultural heritage and history.

To put it bluntly, denial, apathy and cultural nationalism are largely responsible for this. It’s a long discussion to get started with, and I doubt anyone really reads this anyway so I’m not going to get into the nitty-gritty. Suffice to say Japan has a legacy of discrimination against ethnic minorities, indigenous groups, women, homosexuals, the physically and mentally handicapped, people living with HIV/AIDS, Atomic Bomb survivors (possibly the biggest WTF moment), Hansen’s Disease sufferers, and the homeless.

As such, this museum is probably the only one of its kind in Japan dedicated to discrimination. I had wanted to visit the past 2 times I’ve been in Osaka, but the timing never worked out.

Unfortunately, we were rather rushed because we had made lunch plans. However, the volunteers who staffed the exhibits were incredibly knowledgeable and kind, and despite most of the plaques having only Japanese explanations, there were subtitled videos and an English audio guide. Overall, it was really worth it to at least glean a little bit more information about how some of the aforementioned groups live in Japan and what steps they are taking in order to be seen as equals within society.

Our long weekend adventure had perfect timing to cheer me up after a stressful few weeks. I met new people, reconnected with others, ate some scrumptious food, and had a memorable time in the den of debauchery known as Osaka.

Graduation

Today was Graduation Day for Iwatsuki High School. This meant that Sabina and I had to dress smart, so I pulled out my reliable pinstriped suit and prayed that my hair would behave. Sadly, the weather decided to be rainy, so not only were we forced to walk to school in the rain, but my hair also poofed out something awful. Luckily, my headband tamed the worst of it.

Being that this was my first high school graduation I didn’t really know what to expect. True, I figured it would be a somber and serious occasion- all the more so because today also marks the one year anniversary since the Tohoku Earthquake and tsunami- but I didn’t realize quite how serious it was.

You know it's serious when students start sleeping

Honestly, I almost thought I was at a funeral. There wasn’t anything that screamed “fun”, “excitement” or “congratulations” at the event whatsoever.

For starters, the entire student body was made to sit in on the ceremony, which was full of speeches so full of honorific language that I could barely understand what the humble person was honorably speaking about to the honorable guests that humbled the humble person by honorably arriving with honor.

Afterward, every student in the graduating class was called out by name but…There was no cheering. No cries of happiness from the parents. No diplomas handed over nor walks across the stage. The students simply stood, bowed, and waited for the rest of their classmates to have their names read. In short, it felt incredibly anticlimactic and boring.

Class of 2006 baby! With Gram and Grandma

I can remember the screams of friends and family and the airhorn-yes, the airhorn- that my father brought in when my name was called and I walked across the stage. I remember a crappy, clichéd speech by our undeserving valedictorian and an amazing speech by Nayely. I remember being so ecstatic that I leaped out of my chair and bear hugged one of my best friends because it was over, we were finished, we were so grown up, there was so much waiting for us, and the world was at our fingertips!

The only truly moving part of the graduation was the closing song. I cannot for the life of me remember what it was called, but it was really depressing and nostalgic. No wonder the students filed out with tears in their eyes.

Still, some of them perked up when I went to their homerooms to visit them one last time. I ended up getting photos with several of my favorite students. As wonderful as it would be to keep in touch, I know it probably won’t happen. Life happens. They will grow up and move on. The best I can hope for is that they didn’t leave with a bitter taste in their mouths from my English class!

Mingling and munching

After the ceremony, Sabina, her friend Gillian and I mingled a bit with some of the parents and snacked on some finger foods. Unfortunately I either still have the Cold from Hell or I have developed a mad case of Hay fever, because I could not breathe whatsoever. I ended up excusing myself back to the staffroom where I was able to mouth breathe and sniffle to my nose’s content.

Let’s hope that these sniffles clear up because I’m flying down south to visit some awesome friends next weekend. I need to be healthy so I can party my way through Osaka!

Caution: Overuse of Japanese may result in fever.

Let’s talk about athleticism for a moment.

Back in the groovy 70’s, my mom was on her high school’s pep/drill team. She looked pretty hot, if I do say so myself. My dad was a rad football player who eventually entered into his high school’s hall of fame and had enough black belts in karate to kick Steven Seagal’s ass (to my childhood eyes anyway). My brother dabbled in baseball and karate before settling into Muay Thai, which has turned him into a lean, fighting machine (he’s definitely not mean). Hell, even my uncle was a fantastic baseball player and could have become a professional surfer!

Where does this leave me? I guess you could say I’m the runt of the litter, the athletic black sheep of the family. I hated soccer with a passion as a child, so I signed up for softball. I wasn’t any good. I got frustrated easily when I wasn’t able to do everything I wanted to do- even after hours of practice. Swimming was always fun, but I had no grace in the water. I was a cheerleader for a year, which was fun but, again, I was easily frustrated when hours of practice produced no improvement.

In high school I wanted a letterman jacket badly. It was my ideal status symbol; wearing one meant that I had achieved something worthwhile and noticeable. As a struggling perfectionist, I knew I would need to put in a lot of effort, but I didn’t let that deter me. I thought about joining cheer, and then realized I didn’t want to be stereotyped as a typical high school cheerleader. I considered volleyball because of my height, but then realized I had missed the late summer tryouts. I considered it a lost cause until spring, when our P.E. class was forced to try out different track and field sports.

Somehow, I fell into pole vaulting. The coach was hilarious, supportive and not afraid to be blunt. He knew his stuff, knew how hard pole vaulting was, but also reiterated how exhilarating it was when you finally sailed over the bar (after crashing into the standards, falling off the pads, snapping your pole and a host of other hazards). Suddenly, I was part of a team. But I hated team sports! I hated relying on other people, and the idea of dragging others down because of my mistakes was terrifying!

This girl is awesome. Thus, she is not me. I hated the short shorts!

The glorious thing about pole vaulting, however, is that it was both a team sport and independent sport. You might miss the bar every single time and fail miserably that week, but it had no effect on your teammates. Indeed, there were several competitions where I was reduced to tears because I was so upset with myself. But hey, at least I hadn’t made my teammates lose too!

I never became a truly excellent pole-vaulter. I put in a lot of work (my shoulder still occasionally hurts from awkward missteps and botched plantings that swung me into the iron standards) but I guess the athleticism gene skipped me. I still managed to be proficient enough to earn enough points to letter though. By senior year, I was sporting my own cool jacket!

In front of I-sensei's lovely house

This whole athleticism topic comes up because I decided to go skiing over the weekend. I-sensei has a second house in Karuizawa, which I think I’ve mentioned before. This time of year the town is covered in snow, so he decided to make another trek out there with his daughter, O-sensei and her daughter, and S-sensei. Sabina couldn’t come this time, so it was shaping up to a be a truly Japanese experience. 

Skiing definitely has an easier learning curve than snowboarding, which I have tried only once. Still, I was really worried that I was going to break my leg or my neck. Come on! How many people do you hear about in the news who die from skiing accidents? Granted they are usually professionals….

Suffice to say, more than my feet made contact with the ground. Probably the most hilarious moment of the afternoon was when I couldn’t stop, ended up bumping into I-sensei, frantically wrapped my arms around him in terror and we flew down the rest of the hill with me attached to his back like a baby monkey. S-sensei nearly fell off her skiis she was laughing so hard.

No broken legs! Just aching joints....

However, by the end of the afternoon I was starting to get the hang of it. With a few more runs I could probably not look horribly embarrassing, but my body had reached its limit. Every muscle screamed out for me to stop and I had to give in. I like walking. I like walking without constant pain.

Sunday was spent lounging under the kotatsu and roasting next to the wood burning stove. It was snowing lightly; we were drinking coffee and tea and just chatting.

Everything was illuminated in that moment.

Three years ago was probably the lowest point of my life as a whole. If you had told me I would be living and working in Japan in just a few years, I would have thought, “Sure. Whatever.” If you had added that I would be happy and would come to view my coworkers as beautiful, kind members of a strange extended family, I would have called you crazy. The universe has been very kind.

The weekend was incredibly fun and I would love to try skiing again, preferably after being well rested. In the meantime, I will stick with the one semi-athletic thing I can do properly: riding horses.

He's always going to be the first love of my life

You already have flowers, I'm taking these!

After living in god-awful Leo Palace housing for 6 months, Sabina and I finally washed our hands of it and moved into a fantastic new place! Our rent is about $50 more a month, but the apartment is nearly triple the size of our old ones. Oh, and we are splitting rent of course, so it’s actually cheaper to not live in a cockroach infested shoebox with Midnight Music Man, Snoreface and Stompyfeet all around!

Our lovely Totoro themed dining room!

We spent a good week or so putting the place together and I’m very impressed with the results. It feels homey, but not cluttered.

Our colorful TV room, complete with huge IKEA boxes!

To celebrate our move, we had a housewarming party and invited other ALT friends and some of our Japanese coworkers. In total, I think we had somewhere between 30 and 40 people come by. Luckily, the neighbors didn’t rap on our door, the cops weren’t called due to noise (hooray for proper walls!), no one broke or spilled anything, and no one barfed (Well…except yours truly, but as owner I am exempt from such rules).

Kira, Aaron and Tami- who came all the way from Gunma!

Some of our favorite teachers

At first, we had mostly Japanese guests and the party was incredibly Japanese: sitting around, drinking, talking, ooh-ing and aaaah-ing over the new apartment. I was madly scurrying around trying to be a good hostess. Eventually more English speakers showed up and that’s when the party took on a distinctively Western flair.

Yousuke is probably the tallest man in Japan, but he doesn't like to brag

So.Many.Shoes

Overall, it was a grand time and if you’ll forgive my mushy sentiments, the next morning I felt incredibly blessed to have had the chance to meet such amazing people.

Hm, maybe it was just the hangover talking….

p.s. That title is in reference to something....someone....said. Sabina had received Valentine's flowers and when one of our friends brought a pot of pansies as a gift, they ended up in her room. Aforementioned "someone" felt left out of the flower circle and promptly stole the flowers away to her own room.

Stupid Cupid

Valentine’s Day was last week. Officially, it was my first Valentine’s Day in Japan, since I was conveniently traipsing through Cambodian jungles at the time of my study abroad. That ought to tell you something about what I view as romantic…

V-Day in Japan is a bit different than in the west. Perhaps it’s because this is still a patriarchal society, or because the Japanese are not predisposed to overt gestures of love- who knows? Anyway, it is customary for ladies to bake or make sweet treats for their men on Valentine’s Day.

To an extent, this goes on in the workplace with 義理/Giri/Obligation chocolates. You can usually tell who the popular stud in the office is based on the number of colorful little bags on his desk.

W-sensei

At Iwatsuki, it was the ever-adorable W-sensei. Not surprising, considering he’s the youngest guy in the staffroom.

So, due to this whole “Guys get chocolate, ladies make chocolate” scenario, I wasn’t honestly expecting anything. From the love of my heart, not due to obligation, I made two pans of chocolate chip brownies with dried cherries added in. They were a hit, and I was finally able to prove to my coworkers that, yes, I can cook! And they were kind enough to remind me that I will indeed make a good housewife one day….(sigh).

My students, on the other hand, apparently like me at least half as much as I like them; before the day was over, I had a small mountain of sweets on my desk. More than W-sensei. Take that!

Let's have some om-noms!

Ladies get their own chocolate back-sometimes out of love, sometimes out of obligation- on March 14^th, White Day. White Day is a strictly Japanese invention, and when I first heard about it, I was a bit perplexed. Why not just keep Valentine’s Day and make it for both sexes? It’s practically become that in the US anyway, although the lads do bear a bit more of the expectations….Poor dears.

Oh, wait, what do I mind? Chocolate chocolate chocolate chocolate!

Yuki

It has snowed 3 times now in Saitama. The first time, I was sick with a nasty head cold, so the excitement simply wasn’t there. Also, the snow melted the instant it touched anything on its way down.

 

The second time the snow stuck only to earthen ground.

 

Monday evening, January 23^rd, it was COLD. I was bundled up on my room, nestled under my lovely kotatsu drinking hot tea when I got up to check if it was still raining. I threw open the slider and everything was white. Part of my balcony was now an ice-rink for bugs. The rooftops had close to 2 inches of snow on them.

 

I made a mad dash for my coat, earmuffs and gloves then ran outside. Sabina joined me later, although coming from the UK she has significantly more snow experience than I. A businessman walking home from a long days work looked at me like I was insane as I ran past him laughing and shouting something like, “It’s snowing! Wheeeee! Snow!” I heard him chuckle as I ran by though.

 

Sabina and I walked around a bit, marveling at the enormous snowflakes falling. I kid you not, they were nearly as big as a bar of soap! I’ve seen snow before but I’ve never seen flakes that big.

 

Of course, no nighttime snowy wander would be complete without a snowball fight. There’s a small park near our apartment, and our feet took us there. We forgot to make snow angels, but we at least realized that our aiming is very rusty. Oh, my softball years seem so distant now.

 

Lovely Iwatsuki High School

It’s safe to say that our ‘fight’ was more of a draw.