I bought snow boots yesterday. Real snowboots. The kind you strap on your feet before you go sledding, snowman making, or, in my case, snowball fighting. Yuki gassen they call it, "snow fight." Yesterday was our first doozy of a snow, and it certainly caused mild chaos in the town of Funehiki. In Japan, there are no plows, no snowblowers, and not really even any salt trucks, so everyone, out of necesity, puts snow tires (or, I think, chains) on their vehicles. For me, this meant a ride to school that felt and sounded like it was on a jackhammer rather than a bus. So much for the serene ride through the snow-tipped mountains... But the reason I actually bought the boots stemmed from a little event that occurred during "hiru yasumi" or lunch break. I was dying to go out in the snow, so I went to recruit the most likely candidates, ichi nen sei (AKA first year students, or 7th graders). When I entered the room, however, there was already quite a commotion, and over near the window, where the commotion was centered, it seemed I saw a school uniform-covered leg flailing this way and that. I went over to satisfy my curiousity, and it turned out my eyes had not decieved me. There indeed were, actually TWO legs flailing from the window, held by two merciful friends, with the other half of the student dangling inches from the snow outside. Ornery giggles streamed from the girls, and one of them tried to shut the window on the poor victims's legs. Eventually the limb-gripping friends wore out, however, and instantly the student found himself plopped in a pile of wet snow, without gloves, coat, or even shoes. After a few minutes one of the boys did bring out some shoes for him, but as gracious as he was to fetch the shoes, his laughing was merciless. I never did figure out whether the dangling student originally jumped from the window or was pushed... Watching this event, besides adding a bit of entertainment to my lunch break, gave me an idea. I tried to gather the girls together to go outside, but they would have none of it. "Samui! Samui!" They continually replied (AKA IT'S TOO STINKIN' COLD!) So, I gave up on the girls and tried the boys. They didn't seem to like the idea either, so I went for my last resort. I charged down the hall and grabbed my coat. Still in my dress clothes, I shoved on my gloves, and slipped out of my inside shoes and into my 7-year-old $2 Walmart clogs. Once they saw me outside, all dressed up and looking somewhat snowman-ish, I guess something sparked inside some of the boys, because I saw them jolt from the classroom, and moments later they were outside, preparing for war. We tossed a few snowballs here and there, but ended up in an all-out, forget-about-the-fact-you're-in-dress-clothes snowfight. I think we were playing a game somewhat like capture the flag, but it was more like "demolish the other team's snowpile." I never quite got it, so I just kept pelting kids with snowballs. If they were annoyed, they didn't let on = ). At the end of the hour, we were exhausted, and trudged back up the stairs to the school, a few "stray" snowballs still hitting their marked targets. When I got inside, reality began to set in for me. I took off my clogs at the door, and as I lifted them to put them in my locker, a stream of snow and water flowed down onto the floor. Needless to say, my socks and feet were not too much dryer. And then there was my hair, but that's a different story. This one's about the shoes. I knew it would happen sooner or later, but I never wanted to face the truth. Somewhere in my mind and heart, I knew those clogs, those blessed Walmart clogs, would not last forever. But alas, I think they have reached the end of their days. At least they had a glorious finish. And now, well, now I have new snow boots. I can only hope they'll be as good to me and take me as many places as did the clogs. Thus begins the saga of the Funehiki Park boots....