This has truly been a week of celebration. First of all, my birthday was this week (Tuesday), and everyone fell head-over-heals to make it special. Last Sunday I came home from Koriyama and Carrie, a teacher at Wakakusa, asked me to “step into her house for a minute.” Inside I got a huge, “Surprise!” from all of the other teachers, and the ingredients all lain out to make my favorite Indian meal. Even though I think we may have used parsley instead of cilantro (hey, we can’t read every Japanese word yet), it was still extremely yummy. Throughout the week the birthday celebration continued. I received cards and packages from all over the world, and actually on my birthday, the girls made American-style pizza and my mom’s carrot cake. The next day the Makis made me a birthday sukiyaki dinner (onions, tofu, mushrooms, glass noodles and beef sautéed in a yummy sauce), and gave me a beautiful arrangement of flowers and an amazing music “ball” that plays a traditional Japanese children’s song. The birthday day itself was actually very memorable, too (I mean besides the amazing party the teachers threw), for reasons that at least none of us could control. At exactly 6:38 AM, while I was getting ready for school, the doors in my apartment began to shake and a lengthy, intense earthquake commenced. In Funehiki we live on very stable non-fault-line rock (I’m sure there’s a name for it – bedrock? – I don’t remember), but we feel the tremors when other parts of Japan shake and tremble. This particular earthquake began in the ocean and was a category 6.9. It set off the tsunami sirens all along the coast. Fortunately, though, the tsunami that actually occurred was only 50 or so centimeters high, and hardly any damage resulted from the earthquake at all. I found out about the other landmark event that day around 3rd period at school. The TV in the teachers’ office was turned on (the first time since I’ve been here), and on it I saw a woman, in a very expensive-looking car, being driven slowly past hundreds of people, continually bowing in graceful, perfect form, while wearing a plastered half-smile on her face. She reminded me of a bobble-head doll in slow motion. Tamaki sensei explained to me that she was the emperor’s youngest daughter, and she was about to marry a commoner. This act, apparently, also changes her status to commoner. I don’t understand all the politics behind it, but apparently it was a historical day. And speaking of historical days, Saturday we celebrated Thanksgiving! A family in Miharu, a town about 15 minutes by train, owns an American-style house, and every year opens it up for groups to celebrate American holidays. So, we had our turkey – amidst a very eclectic group of people including Japanese, American, German, Canadian, and even Thai. The food was the only “normal” or “familiar” part about the festivities, but apparently, very exotic in Japan. Turkeys have to be imported, therefore they can cost about $50-$60 for a 10-ish pounder. Even with the mix of people and the lack of “normalcy,” to the dinner, though, it went very well, and we all had a wonderful time, leaving the table with smiles on our faces, our belts loosened by one or two notches, and the feeling that just maybe we added one more brick to the bridge between cultures. It was a very good day, and week for that matter, of celebration. I am thankful I was (am) in Japan this Thanksgiving. What are you thankful for this year? (The following pictures were taken at my birthday party and Thanksgiving dinner. We're a wild bunch, we are, we are!)

Me and two of my wonderful friends, Adriane (left) and Tammy (right), who helped make my birthday very special!

Lis, trying to make me laugh....it worked (by the way, I warned her this was going on the www...)

Cristy during a moment of inspiration...let's just say it was a fun night...

The entire Thanksgiving crew...not exactly what I would call "traditional," but definitely an experience I would never trade

Yukari Tamaki (the teacher I am with at Segawa Jr. High) and me, tummies full after our pumpkin pie....

Louise, a JET (Japan English Teacher, I think) who lives about 1 1/2 hours from me. She's really cool, and has a great sense of humor.

A bit shorter for you non-novel-readers... I woke up this morning after getting only five hours of sleep (I was finishing Memoirs of a Geisha. Yes, the reading bug followed me to Japan...). I assumed it would be a "wa choto" day (literally a little bit...), but it turned out to be fine, sunny, and filled with delightful little moments, such as these: An 8th grade girl telling me I had long eyelashes (what girl doesn't love to hear this?!) While teaching with a certain attractive male teacher, I was very nervous, so was looking down trying not to give myself away. When I looked up, though, I caught glimpse of a 7th grade boy in the middle of the room - digging with all his might at something WAY up his nose. Needless to say, that lightened my mood. What are some little moments in the last week that have made your day? Please comment if you feel so led, it's always a delight to hear from you!

This weekend marked the near-end of my Christmas present-buying adventures. Since I stepped foot on Japanese soil, I have been searching diligently for the perfect gifts for my friends and family (maybe even you!) Not being able to find gifts for my brother Chris and my father (men are extremely hard to buy for here...everything's cute), Tammy and I planned to go to Koriyama and embark on an all-day shopping trip. Since she's not going home for Christmas, she needs to send a box ASAP, and I just plain like shopping, so we got our Saturday 8 or 9ish K run over with early, and we headed off to Koriyama on the train at 11:40. When I say "headed" I mean more literally sprinted, because we finished eating lunch (and when I say eating, I mean inhaling) at exactly 11:35, and we don't live next to the train station. So, not wanting to wait another hour for the next train to come, and having decided somewhat foolishly on wooden sandals earlier for footwear, I ended up removing the cumbersome shoes and darting past some very confused Japanese people out for their morning walk in order to reach the station in time to buy tickets for me and Tammy, who was also wearing open-backed shoes. She didn't taker hers off, though...oh, well, I guess Japense people think I'm weird anyway. I can blame almost anything on being a stupid American = ). Anyway, we reached Koriyama a little after noon, and went strolling through the streets searching for a store to buy souveniers and omiage for our loved ones. This may sound easy, but it's not. Just a reminder, we can't read. Oh, and we can't ask for directions. Oh, and everything is crowded together and all looks the same. So, on any given day we could come across a gem of a store and find all sorts of stuff, but more than likely we end up leaving most stores, disillusioned by the fact that the cute jeans in the corner over there are $135 or something of that sort. It's definitely a challenge, but on Saturday, thankfully, there were a few "Eureka!" moements, and my Christmas shopping mission is almost complete. Tammy and I can't take all the credit, though. My co-teacher at Segawa offered, so kindly, to meet us there (she lives in a different city) and show us around. This proved very helpful because she, being Japanese, can read Japanese. Imagine that. Needless to say, she was a life-saver, and it was also a great time getting to know her and spend non-school time together. Tamaki-sensei (my co-teacher at Segawa) had to leave at 6:00 to catch a bus to another city, so Tammy and Lis (added to our group in the afternoon) and I walked around, sucked in by the 100 yen shop. 100 yen is roughly equal to one dollar, and let me tell you, these shops are NOTHING like our dollar stores at home. Just to prove this, here are some things I have purchased at stores of this type: dishes (nice ones), oatmeal, batteries, makeup, candles, corn starch, a laundry basket, sharp, sturdy knives, really cute hair clips, picture frames, wrapping paper, and on and on....just name it, I bet it's available there (yes, even alarm clocks). But anyway, we got sucked in, until eventually, worn out, we decided to go to a cafe-type place we had heard about called "God's Party." (Don't ask me why it's called this, probably for the same reason the trashcan in my bathroom says "for every bland new day"...) Anyway, we were prepared to kick our feet up in this, as we'd heard, "westernish" place. Unfortunately, we didn't have much time for the feet up-kicking, because we couldn't find the place right away, and by the time we'd ordered and such, it was 8:30. As far as we knew, the last train left at 8:45, so as soon as I realized the time, I felt a slight sense of panic, shared this panic with the other two, and we booked it outa there. Fortunately, we reached the train in time to find seats and relax for about 3 minutes before we jolted into motion. If any of you know me even somewhat well, you know that I can't go more than 10 minutes after buying something without pulling it out to look at it again. During this particular train ride, this usually annoying habit turned out to be rather, well, life-saving. About 15 minutes into the ride I began to get antsy (though Lis was so patiently showing me her knitting at the time...), and decided to get out some of the presents I'd bought to look at them. But, I decided that it would be more fun to look at the little pictures we had all taken together earlier in a little photo box machine thing (very, very popular here). I remembered that I had put them in a little pocket of my purse, so I reached into my other honkin' bag to pull out my little purse, and discovered....you guessed it, my purse wasn't there. I figured I had just set it next to me after buying my ticket, but then I remembered that in order to pay me back for purchasing hers to Koriyama, Tammy had bought my ticket home. I had no doubts. I knew my purse and its precious contents were still at the cafe. Let me explain. By "precious contents" I mean about the equivalent of $200, my alien registration card, my passport, and well, anything else doesn't really matter. The point was, if it was gone, I was sunk. It just so happned that when I realized this (the whole process was about 10 seconds), we were sitting in Miharu station, the 2nd of 3 stops before Funehiki. The other girls were like "what should we do?" and without thinking, I said, "Get off the train!" Trains only come once every hour or so, but because the timing was right, we only had to wait about 45 seconds after hopping off the train to Funehiki before hopping onto the one back to Koriyama. I can't say that I wasn't nervous, but I wasn't panicing. I knew the situation was out of my control, and while we were on the train, we stopped for a few minutes to pray. I always feel better after that... We reached Koriyama around 9:05 (by this time, we realized there IS a train after 8:45 to Funehiki, and we didn't have to rush in the first place, which would have avoided the whole situation...) The difficulty came when we went to hand our tickets in. I whispered to the girls "turn it upside down!", but apparently they didn't hear me, because as we were passing through, the ticket guy stopped us with a weird, confused expression on his face. He couldn't figure out why we were coming in to Koriyama with a ticket that said we just left Koriyama. After about 5 minutes of gesturing, whipping out the 5 Japanese words that I know, and making use of Tammy's electronic dictionary, we communicated my dilema and were off to find the purse. We had no trouble finding the place this time around, in fact, we made record time, even with my blistered feet from my (again, foolish) wooden sandals. We charged into the cafe, and Lis, without thinking, went straight to the table where we had been sitting, which was now occupied by new (Japanese) customers, and without even a "sumimasen" (excuse me), reached under the chair I had been sitting in to pull out, yes, my purse. The expression, though, on the lady's face who was sitting in the chair, was priceless. So much for our attempts at politeness. I guess there are exceptions. Anyway, as we were walking out, I heard the unmistakable melody of U2's famous hit "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" being blared over the radio. Though I was amused at the irony, I was thankful it didn't apply to me, for I soon discovered that nothing had even been stirred from my purse. If I ever wonder whether God is looking out for me, I need only to think of my passport/train adventures. Yes, it's plural, for this is not the only time I left my passport somewhere stupid. When I was in Victory Falls, I actually left my passport ON the train, and only remembered it just before the cleaning lady got to our car (after the car was "cleaned" I'm sure such a valuable item would not have remained untouched). Trains and passports....what a random combination by which to remember God's faithfulness... I had planned to make this short, but alas, I am a blab. But, to leave you with I have a quote by none other than my dear friend Tammy: "Patty, are you SURE you don't want the octapus balls?" I leave the context of this one to your imagination...

Miso Konyaku strikes again.... Before I start this entry, let me explain just exactly what miso and konyaku are. Miso is a flavor, very popular in Japan, created from fermented soybeans. The problem is that I think it actually tastes like fermented soybeans...with a lot of salt, of course. Konyaku is a substance made from seaweed, another ingredient very popular in Japan. Somehow it's made into a clear paste or something and turned into a really, really hard jello. Now, the fruity flavored konyaku (which come in little bite-size packages) are very tasty, and, if I might add, very fun to eat. Miso-flavored konyaku, however, even on a stick...well, not exactly my idea of fair food. So, yesterday I was thinking to myself aroud 3rd period "Gee, it would be nice if one of the teacher's brought in some omiage today. Omiage are like "souveniers" brought back by someone who visited another city or something (I will be expected to bring them back after my holiday in the States). Usually omiage are food, which around third period is really nice, because my breakfast is pretty much worn off. To my delight, around 10:30 I heard the clanking of what sounded like spoon against bowl, and I looked up to see Hida san (the lady who takes care of school lunches, cleaning, gardening, and pretty much everything around the school) passing out little bowls of mystery with a spoon inside. I was sitting at my desk, so, being below her level, all I could see was the bowl and spoon, but I did hear little squeals of delight and "oishii!" (delicious) coming from the teachers to whom she handed these bowls. I expected something like soba noodles, or, I don't know, something I would really, really like. I waited in anticipation, stomach rumbling. Then she came to me. She set it on my desk. And I just stared at it. For a full minute. I just couldn't believe, of all things, it was....you guessed it, the jelly junk, steaming hot and waiting to ruin my appetite for the rest of the day. I just kept thinking to myself "how on EARTH can I get this down? The first time was manageable, but now I actually know what it tastes like!" Thankfully, I got an idea. It just so happens that during third period, not many teachers are in the teachers' lounge. Lucky for me, all those within sight distance, except for Tamaki sensei, the English teacher, were teaching during that hour. So, I got sneaky. Tamaki sensei, at one point, had a question for another teacher, and I seized my one opportunity. There was a pile of books between me and the teacher she went to talk to, and another pile between me and another teacher on my left. Thankfully, my kleenex box was located in just the right place so as to be hidden by those two piles. So, I made some quick clanking noises with the spoon and bowl, (to sound like I was eating), then plopped half the gunk onto a kleenex, and wrapped it up as fast as I could, just in time for Tamaki sensei to return to her desk (next to mine). Unfortunately, she then had to run over a lesson plan with me for an hour, so I held the steaming ball of mushy gunk in my lap, hoping it wouldn't leak through the kleenex (the miso stuff definitely looks like a runny version of...well, you can guess, and having that on my pants probably wouldn't have been so good...) I think it ended up being ok. I didn't see any brown spots... What I don't know is whether Tamaki sensei figured out what I did. She did end up asking me later whether I liked it (after I gagged down the second half in front of her). I debated lying to be polite, but then fear seized me that I might be served this torturous food again, so I said something like, "welllllll.....it's......a little....." I think she got the hint. Hopefully that's the end of that. This whole experience reminded me of a passage in Bruce Feiler's book, Learning to Bow referenced in my last blog. It's amazing how his experience parallels ours. This is in reference to "mochi", a little different from konyaku, but the idea is the same: "'Here, why don't you try some?' a man said, handing me a melted lump. Moving slowly to avoid the heat, I pulled the puttylike ball to my mouth and sank my teeth into the center. As I chewed, the crowd leaned closer to watch. By this time quite accustomed to such attention, I smiled and waited for their surprised reaction when they discovered that I too could enjoy this treat. But as soon as the mochi reached my tongue, I knew I was in for trouble. This gelatinous paste tasted more like plastic dental x-ray tape than toasted marshmallows. 'Be a good Japanese,' I thought to myself. 'Gamman--suffer with dignity." 'Well...,' Mr C said, plopping a block into his mouth and swallowing it as a frog would eat a fly--in one gulp. 'How do you like it?' 'It's fine,' I mumbled, trying to swallow but feeling the weight of the ball swelling inside my throat. I wondered for a second if this was what a snake felt like after eating an entire rat. But then I reconsidered: a rat seemed oddly appealing." And on the topic of food, my favorite quote yet this week: "It was like a womb in there... so warm and, well, comforting." My friend Louise, a JET teacher, describing our dinner at (a very well-heated) Mc Donald's in Aizu. So...what's the worst thing YOU've ever had to eat????????