*SWEARING*

This particular episode of the Sam diaries will contain a lot of swearing.

If you are particularly moralistic, or of weak fortitude; proceed no further.  Also, if you're my mum or my grandparents, I would probably not read any further.  Dad, you've probably heard me say worse at rugby, so you're immune.

Swearing will commence in:

3

2

1

Fuck.

There - I said it.  Apparently the first one is always the hardest, and leads to a floodgate effect.  Fuck.  I guess the eponymous 'they,' were correct again; I can't stop swearing now.  Stopping might cause a quantum time loop effect that might well destroy the universe.  Best not hold back then.  Fuck.

So today didn't start well, the middle was excellent, and the ending was what caused my current annoyance.

Before I begin the story proper, it is important to understand that Japan has three major forms of transport.  The bicycle, used by anyone too young, too poor or too infirm to drive.  The car, used by a large number of people, and the train; used by a ridiculous number of people.  Think a billion a year.  Trains then, are an integral part of life in a way that they're simply not in England.  Bicycles too, as when I'm out and about I'll see three or four others riding around, every ten minutes.  Again, important in a way beyond the scope of comprehension among westerners.  (Huh?  Every kid rides their bike to school?  Why doesn't mum just drop them off?  Huh?  People with working cars ride to the shops?  Are they mad?)

I am often accused of lacking a logical coherence in my story telling, so it begins now.

Today was the day of an enkai (after-work drinking party) for one of my elementary schools.  I dropped fourty big ones to get a seat.  This included drinks (all you can, despite me not being particularly beer inclined, I wouldn't have minded a glass or some wine) and sashimi, some barbecue stuff and more.

Before the story advances I feel it pertinent to mention that I can't speak Japanese.  I make pathetic attempts at learning the language, but it's going to be an uphill struggle for sure.  I can remember that Germany has a population of eighty million, England and France have near identical populations of sixty million, but I can't remember the word for 'number,' in Japanese, despite being told a dozen times or more.

So I decided to cycle to the enkai, some ten kilometres away.  This is not particularly far, but I'd also wanted to travel to Ashikaga (nowhere near the enkai) for some time now.  The astute among you will notice that I used the past tense for the Ashikaga part, meaning I made it there.

When deciding my plans, I noted that I can't hold a conversation in Japanese for more than five minutes at best.  Therefore, fifteen people (give or take) times five minutes at best, equals an hour (if we take into consideration that not everyone will talk, and I won't be able to talk for the full five minutes with some).  Therefore, I determined that turning up with an hour to go would give me ample time to stuff my face, do the requisite talking, and leave - having 'experienced' enkai (noted for insane drinking and dropping of all social normality (normality = social restrictions, i.e your elders being better than you, social class, rank etc) and some awesome Japanese food.

To make things interesting, and to fulfil a goal of mine, I decided to ride to Ashikaga, hit the station, train it to Tochigi and ride to the bar.  A five minute journey from the station to the bar, half an hour on the train, an hour and a half (25km) to Ashikaga, Enkai ends at 9PM.  If I leave at half six, I will have plenty of time.

First of all, the wind was fierce.  Fierce as fucking balls.  30km an hour sustained windspeed.  Christ knows what it was gusting to.  About halfway to Ashikaga it started letting up.  Now, incidentally, I just threw a paper aeroplane out of the window and it made it all the way to the other side of the street without so much as a deviation.  Changeable.

So fighting a divine headwind I made it halfway.  Then I got a puncture.  Not a nice friendly puncture on the front wheel.  A bitch of a puncture on the back wheel.  Japanese bikes are not made like western bikes.  They are not simple.  They have the mechanical equivalent of the Starship Enterprises warp reactor safety mechanisms.  The back wheel has two nuts, four washes, a gearing system on one side, a drum brake on the other, a spacer, a kickstand (which, for some bizarre reason, goes on first) and a bizarre thing that stops everything spinning.  I don't have the vocabulary to describe what it looks like, or which group of 'things' it falls into.

This cost me the best part of an hour.  (Someone stopped to help me, and they had a pump which was awesome, because I didn't!  Japanese people can be exceedingly nice.)

Incidentally (again) this is my fourth puncture.  Four punctures, four weeks.  Japan is not as clean as you might imagine.  Apparently, all they do is sweep the detritus to the sides of the roads and let the cyclists throw it in the bin - after using their tyres to pick it up.

Anyway.  The wind put me behind schedule, the puncture kicked my schedule in the balls and ran off with its' wallet.

Having finally made it to Ashikaga, I went to get on the train.  Except, as it turns out, bikes aren't allowed on trains.

What the fuck kind of logic is that?  In a country that relies on trains and bikes, to have them be mutually exclusive is bonkers.  It's batshit crazy.  I can understand them being barred in rush hour, but when there are a dozen others on the train, it's simply insane.  Mental.  Crazy.  Exceedingly frustrating.

Before I carry on, and before I forget, I feel it apt to mention how I found the station in the first place.  A trio of extremely nice middle school kids helped me.  We chatted in broken Japlish, and they went out of their way to help me find the station, despite themselves living some way off.

I'm sitting here, smiling at my misfortune, and, now, extremely calm.  Primarily because of the people who helped me.  I love the fact that I can try little adventures like this, have everything go wrong, and still smile.  This is due to the people of this country and I often wonder if they realise how blessed they are with regards to these kinds of small incidents.

The situation right now:  My bike is twenty-five kilometres away in Ashikaga, where it will spend the night.  Tomorrow, I will pick it up.  Now, the ride their was actually quite fun, but the wind is forecast to continue tomorrow and as all bike riders know, it magically changes direction on the return leg, to once again impede progress.  So here's my plan:  I'm going to take the front wheel off, sling the bike over my shoulder and take it on the train as carry on luggage.

Fuck stupid rules.  Stupid rule - simple bypass.

The downside of today is monetary.  In the morning I purchased fifty quids worth of university textbooks, and this debacle is going to set me back around fifty five more.  (A tenner or so for the multiple train journeys, forty for the meal, five for the cakes and chocolate I bought to console myself on the way home.)

Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, dismantling and remantling my bike.

And now the cathartic experience is complete, and that was my day.

Fuck.

I was feeling particularly artsy the other day, so I made this picture.

It's a high-def resolution desktop I'm currently using.  Feel free to use it.  Please ask me before redistributing.

Notes on Gym Class

So I just watched a gym class conducted by a Japanese teacher.  Obviously there was no English involvement within the lesson, and I understood very little of what was being said; but the comparison with England is striking.

Todays lesson was entirely based around timing the kids in a 50m sprint.  Presumably, the information garnered from today will be compared with data collected at some arbitrary point in the future.

What struck me, is that Japanese kids can't run.  Jesus they can't run.  At best they look awkward while running, at worst they look like paraplegic invertebrates.  No effort was expended on the part of the Japanese teachers in correcting their styles, so I must assume that either the teacher doesn't care, he had never seen a 100m sprint on television, or this is the accepted method for quickly getting from A to B without a bicycle or car.  Frankly, I'm astonished.

I have been told that I look like a puppet when I'm running, with an upright back and robotic limbs - but I try my damndest to follow the instruction given to us by our teachers.  As far as I know, this is the fastest method of locomotion available to me, using only my legs.  It may be the case that I could run faster, but I've grown to like this style.  The point is, rightly or wrongly, I have adopted a style taught to me by my teachers, and at the time it improved my overall speed.  These kids have been taught nothing, and will continue to endanger those around them with flailing limbs (not to mention failing to get the most out of their bodies.)  I don't expect everyone to run the 100m gracefully, or quickly, but one kid ought to be able to, and every kid has the right to learn (whether they accept the teaching or not).

To give you an idea of what they look like, check out this video.  Then look at this picture.  Note, their arms don't move up and down like ours when we run, they just hang there, out at the side.  The problem is, this is an unsustainable position, and they end up wobbling all over the place.  In no logical society should this style be adopted.  It's mental.  Maybe this stuff flies in Korea, but it shouldn't be legal anywhere else.

Phew!

So I've finally got my study time for the day.  I decided to update my blog to recount todays events.  (It was a typical day, so I think it's only right that I relay such information so that when I say, 'for the past few weeks it's been nothing but humdrum,' you know exactly what humdrum is.

I just found some apple tea that smells exactly like the Turkish/Greek apple tea we encountered on our last journey there.  I'm just letting it stew now.

So the day started frantically, with two early morning classes.  I was busy trying to prepare the things for the lesson, but the principal of this school wasn't having any of it.  He was too busy telling me that I shouldn't roll around the office on the wheelie chairs, because it's not professional.

Aside from the fact that I don't get paid enough to listen to mere bluster, I'm a representative of England, and I think, to a man, no Englishman can resist rolling around an office on his or her wheelie chair.

The tea tastes NOTHING like it smells.  I'm so disappointed.  I brewed a whole pot, too.  Anyone who can send me some real apple tea, the stuff that's so sweet it rots your teeth before it even comes in contact with them, will receive something Japanesey in return.

Anyway.  The first lessons' teacher really does not like me in her classroom.  We have minor power struggles every time we teach together, so today, after another embattled classroom experience, I went on the charm offensive.  I saved her about an hours work by showing her how to use the laminator properly (so the work doesn't crinkle) and chopping up the myriad papers she was laminating.  I don't know if it worked, yet; the next lesson will tell me whether I need to be even nicer or not.  To be honest, I don't know if I have that depth of kindness within me.  I have work to do too!

The next class was a bunch of tiny, tiny people.  I don't know what grade they were, but they can't have been more than five or six.

I just realised why this tea tastes odd.  It's not apple tea, as advertised - but tea with apples.  That's false advertising right there, and grounds to sue.  Or sew, as I've seen it spelled on internet forums.  ('I'm gonna sew your ass,' no, please don't.)

The second class went smoothly.  Unspectacularly, that is to say, I expect none of the kids to remember a thing next time I see them, but smoothly nonetheless.  You see, everything I say is translated into Japanese for the kids.  So why do they need to learn anything in English when the answer is right there, standing next to me?  One of the many stupidities of Japanese language learning.

So those two classes, (and one cancelled class) aside, I've been making materials (on the biggest cutter I've ever used, it cut through sixty sheets of laminated A4 in one go) and lesson plans.  Now to do some university work!

がんばります

Sending Rice to China

Every so often I'll receive a parcel from my parents.  Inside will often be something vital for survival (bright orange shoes) and chocolate.  With the shoes, for example, were numerous packets of melted chocolate.  There were still liquid when I put them in the fridge; but my apetite for sweets overtook the solidifying process and while the outside was hard, the inside was still liquid.  This is an amazing combination, by the way, and if you have time I suggest you buy a bar and try it yourself.  You won't be disappointed.

This time, however, there were no essential items.  Mum sent me foodstuffs only, the likes of which baffled, surprised, amazed and bamboozled me, in equal measure.

The staple foodstuff of Asia (and consequently the majority of the world population) is rice.  This is heavily supplemented with noodles.  I don't specifically know the occasion for eating noodles over rice (for example, as posh nosh) but they eat it a lot.  Ramen (pot noodles) are massive business here; with each supermarket having microwaves and hot water dispensers dedicated to customers who want to eat the instant noodles they bought, right there in the shop.

So, for a reason beyond my imagining, and resulting in me laughing in the middle of a meeting (garnering some serious, disapproving looks) mum sent me some instant noodles.  I'm still smiling now.

These noodles, coupled with the pastry cheese twists and pringles have kept me smiling all day.  It was lucky she sent the pringles, because I missed breakfast this morning.  Pringles are also available in abundance (ruddy expensive though) although they're somewhat smaller than their western brethren.

This veritable feast was topped off with some mint chocolates.

Fantastic.

By the way, this is my face when I saw what was in the package.

Priceless.

University and Studying

So I've been accepted into Aston universities correspondence teaching course.  And I finally found the correct apostrophe on this keyboard.  ' look much nicer than `.  I don't even know what that second one is.

Due to my initial interest in this course beginning when I was in Korea, half of my address information was Korean (as I didn't know where I would be in Japan, I was advised to simply put down my (then) current Korean information) and the other half was Japanese.  As such, the university queried my personal information, and this pushed me over the April deadline for admissions.  This means I'll be enrolling in the October intake.

In the meantime, I have a mahoosive reading list, a dozen titles provided by them, and dozens more recommended to me by others.

I also need to send in a certified copy of my passport page.  In the spiel given to me by the university, it states that I need a professional to certify it, which can be any one of: a doctor, lawyer, civil servant, police officer or worker of the state.  It also means a teacher can provide this certification.  Does that mean I can sign it myself and send it back to them?  Either way, I'm surrounded by teachers, and I have three possible head teachers to choose from, should they be willing to verify my documents.  I'm going to try and convince one of them to write a little message in Japanese, to see if anyone at Aston understands.

In footwear related news, I have received a new pair of shoes, curtesy of my father.  They're the brightest, most vulgar things you have ever seen.  They're running shoes, with tons of give and flex, and they weigh nothing.  Needless to say, they're bitchin'.

I am reminded of visiting america a number of years ago and purchasing a pair of bright yellow Saucony running shoes.  They didn't leave my feet until I'd outgrown them, and this bright orange pair being of the same make and comfort, I expect the same will be true here.

If you ever come to Japan, make sure you bring two pairs of shoes with you.  One pair will act as your outdoor shoes, and the other will act as all-purpose, indoor footwear.  I use the bright orange ones indoors and for exercise, as they provide the most protection from constant pounding on treadmills and whatnot.

If you're interested, these are the shoes in question.  I can vouch for their initial awesomeness, but not for their longevity or wear.  Only time will tell, as they say.

That's all there is to it, at the moment.  The cherry blossoms have almost all fallen, which means something I'm sure.

Flague

So for my first week I`m working with another ALT, one who has been here for six years, doing the same job, day in, day out.  As I understand the situation, he`s been in the same schools too.  He has no girlfriend, and seemingly no friends.  He`s american, an american christian (that is to say, he`s about as christian as a pet) and a generally benign guy.  Luckily he`s not preachy, but he is extremely loud.  He`s the loudest american I`ve ever met, and considering the general lack of consideration evident in americans, that`s saying a lot.

He simply lacks the ability to control himself in any way.  He`s not fat, but he is devoid of any manners.  He snatches things, shouts at you from a foot away (I`ve more headaches in the past week than six months prior), talks over you (even if you started talking first) and is has a generally annoying air.  It`s true what sane Japanese think about most of the foreigners working in Japan; we`re outcasts from our own society.  Outcast for a number of reasons, resulting in a generally annoying regiment of foreigners tending towards Japan.

To a certain extent it`s apparent in Korea too.  Must be something to do with the women here (generally annoying, nerdy bastard men, not women)

I hope I`ve not turned that annoying (I must share some common trait with these people, which frightens me if I`m honest), or were originally that bad.

So the title is probably quite confusing.  This guy reached the height of annoyance when he pronounced flag as  above.  Flague.  Like plague.  Or vague.  Flague.  Seriously.

He then had the gall to call me weird for not pronouncing it like that; citing the entirety of america being his equal in this particular pronunciation.

Not only have I never heard another yank say it this way, I`ve never even comprehended the possibility of it being pronounced this way.

This continued.  Bag, in his world, is bague, stag (the deer) is stague... and so it continues.  I think he has autism or something.

So... very... annoying...

Luckily I only have to work with him for one more day, then I`m on my own.  This suits me perfectly, as it takes a special kind of moron to live in Japan.  I`m happy being that moron - just by myself.

*EDIT*

So my bike has its' eighteenth puncture in as many minutes.  To maintain their industry, the purveyors of all things bike related have designed nuts that aren't standard, meaning you must take it back to the manufacturer every time a valve goes.  (This has already happened to my piece of shit bike).

Fifthwings, my company, have furnished me with this bike primarily so I can travel for 45 minutes to one of my schools; every Friday.  I don't mind the distance, especially at this time of year - it's a thoroughly pleasant ride.

What I object to, is their requirement that I pay the 15 pounds for my bike to be fixed every time something goes wrong.  Do they want me turning up to my schools?  If they do, they'd better start coughing up some money or parts.  Considering I've had this bike a week and it's already cost me 20 pounds (a quarter of the amount it's worth, if you're interested) doesn't bode well.  Especially if fifthwings keep playing silly assholes about it.

It's all the more galling considering the amount I'm being paid.  It's about 60,000 yen less than the going rate for someone doing my job.  Convert that into pounds in google.

Of English Ability

So the Japanese view English in the same way the English view R.E.  It`s a governmental requirement that will never be useful in everyday life.  A learn and forget subject, if you will.

In most countries it would be difficult to escape English.  France had to legislate against the steady encroachment of the English language - Korea actively embraces the alphabet and words while reviling anyone non-Korea.  There is tons of English in Japan, just none that`s intelligible.  They`ve appropriated English and created the infamous Japlish, a kind of strange dialect that`s mostly Japanese with an English twang.

Again, most countries speak English with a native accent.  The French speak distinctively, as do Italians;  even Koreans are discernible among a crowd.  The Japanese have learned the other way round.  They speak Japanese with a slight English accent.  For example; apple becomes a-pu-ru (ru being pronounced loo), baseball becomes bay-su-ba-ru (bay pronounced as in baying), birthday becomes bir-su-da-i (bir pronounced as in bird).  I picked words that have Japanese equivalents to show that their pronunciation is about as far from English as you can manage, while still using a base English word.  Some words have been integrated into Japanese and, frankly speaking, I often don`t understand what they`re saying.

Unfortunately this passes as acceptable English here, so the English teachers work is difficult.

Another side-effect of this appropriation is class direction.  The English class is conducted entirely in Japanese, with the target word, phrase or grammar given in English.  Learning single sentences or ideas in isolation creates an environment where learning becomes more difficult, as everyone asks for the direction in Japanese, even when they understand enough to answer the question.  You don`t need to understand every word to understand the meaning of a sentence.  Maybe you do in Japanese, but this severely hinders progress in English.

This is exemplified when, having a class for a mere five minutes (the teacher was busy administering a health checkup (teeth, if you`re interested) for his homeroom class) I managed to get them to understand, with no prior knowledge, the units of measurement for weight and height.  I had them guessing my height and weight, and saying their own.  I didn`t ask the weight questions of any of the girls, in case you`re wondering.

The point being that, learned in isolation, this would have taken an entire class, were the lesson conducted in Japanese.  Sure, retention might well be lower, as the students were unable to take notes during class, but over a period of time, reinforcing this for a couple of minutes each lesson, the students would naturally remember information in this way.

I presume the school has a set syllabus for learning English, and they will stick to it rigidly; just as our French and German lessons were conducted in England.  There are myriad parallels to be drawn between our systems, as the Japanese government styled itself on English and american parliamentary systems, education systems and to a lesser extent health systems after the war.  Unfortunately, they inherited all the problems we have with foreign language teaching - a side-effect of not creating their own unique system, tailored to the specific weaknesses of Japanese students.

On Earthquakes and Crapping of Pants

So I was previously asked whether the Japanese care about earthquakes; and if they do, what happens?  Well today we had a medium sized quake, while I was in the school gym playing table tennis.

I didn't feel most of it, if I'm honest.  Being the insensitive person I am, I wondered why on earth everyone was diving under the tables.  It ramped up towards the end, and being on the second floor balcony of the gym, it really started rattling and rolling.

Everyone was screaming initially, it seemed to be more of a warning call (like meerkats sensing a lion) than through fear though, as the boys were joining in while shouting something.  The girls reached pitches previously unbeknownst to man.  One girl was crying by the end of it, the rest were playing table tennis within five seconds of the quake ending.  A general chorus of 'are you okay?' went around, which was answered in two seconds, and everyone carried on.

What amazed me was the speed of their collective reflexes.  The kids were under those tables before I even realised the place was shaking.  All the teachers were standing around looking annoyed, they didn't dive.  There seemed to be an air of annoyance at being stopped from working, and that's about it.  The kids are perfectly trained, as are the adults in their own way.  I think anyone over the age of sixteen realises that if a ten tonne girder is falling, a table won't stop it.

So I cycled to the gym after that excitement, and quickly got a puncture.  The return journey was a dog, if I'm honest.  It took an hour and twenty minutes (a fast ride takes 20) and I had to pick up dinner on the way back.  I also found out that I've lost five kilogrammes.  Five.  I didn't have five to lose in the first place.  Where did I lose five kilos?  I was pretty annoyed at that.  And at getting a puncture.  And my boss sending me a message to see if I was okay, only to not bother replying when I told her that I had a puncture.  Separate personal and private lives, I suppose.

Then I came home to all my stuff being on the floor.  Luckily no more glasses broke (primarily because I have no more to break).

If you want to get an idea of just how frequent our tremors are (I'm going to establish a new form of differentiation between a tremor and a quake - tremors are sub richter 5, quakes anything above that.  Sam has spoken, let it be known to the OED.) check this out.  It's a world map/log of the tremors/earthquakes that occur.  They're all in Japan, and the first page is filled with tremors just from today.

Entrance Ceremony

So the entrance ceremony was today.  Needless to say, it was long and efficient.  Patience is a virtue in all matters here, it seems.

Firstly, I sat with all the new teachers for roughly an hour, while the school head teacher, mayor (or some such city official) the deputy head, the head of each of the departments and some specially selected kids gave speeches.  Individually they weren't long; but collectively they were taxing.  Before each person spoke we had to bow, and after each person spoke we had to bow.  This includes standing up and sitting down each time.  Tiring.

Then the new teachers were ushered onto the stage to bow in front of the students.  We were introduced individually, mine being a particularly drawn out affair.  I don't know why, he said something about me being English and from London.  That aside, it was relatively mundane.  This happened an hour into the ceremony.

We then sat down in our original positions (I don't know how long for) and waited.  After that, there was a ton of sitting around and waiting in the teachers room.  I was tasked with literally no work, so I busied myself with my university application, and asking those around for help finding local university libraries.  From a personal perspective, it was extremely productive.  From an education prospective, it was not.

I hope this trend continues, because I will be able to do monumental amounts of work here, if I'm tasked with the same workload as today.

In radioactive news; we had a magnitude 7.0 earthquake some 200km offshore yesterday.  No tsunami's that I know of.  A tsunami, for those are wondering, is caused by tectonic activity.  A tidal wave is caused by lunar or solar interaction with the ocean.

The quake lasted for around a minute all told.  It built up slowly (a trend I've noticed with the earthquakes here) and lasted for a long time.  Long enough to smash one of my glasses and force me out of bed to lay my computer and TV flat - you suddenly find out what your priorities are when something like this occurs.

Another interesting fact - before I came here I assumed earthquakes were quick events that happened over a period of seconds.  It turns out that the big earthquake a few weeks ago lasted for three minutes.  In the same way, it built up from minor shaking to become a massive earthquake.  The sixth biggest in recorded history.  That's huge.

The reactors are all being scrapped after they've been secured.  It appears that only one of the reactors is causing the headaches you can read about in the newspapers; the others are either secure or posing little risk. The one that's leaking everywhere, however, is burning holes wherever it touches.  Workers are being paid about 700 pounds a day to solve all the problems.  Of course, those workers will be dead in ten years, so, frankly, I think 700 pounds is too little.  The company in charge is taking advantage of the Japanese 'it's my fault, so I will kill myself to rectify the problem,' mentality.  On the one hand it's a crying shame that these people are sacrificing themselves for this; on the other it's amazing they would willingly choose to do so.  I don't know many people that would be willing to wade up to their knees in radioactive water to fix a leaking pipe.

The world can't run on oil forever, and using solar, wind or wave energy is, frankly, delusional.  Therefore, I guess the Japanese will have to build their power stations on top of bouncy castles or some such earthquake-proof device.

It's interesting to note that the reactors themselves were initially unharmed, it's only the cooling systems that failed.  Once a reactor is started, the cooling systems keep the temperatures at nominal levels - it's an ongoing reaction that lasts as long as the fuel does.  Once it's started, it doesn't stop.  There are emergency backups, but it would seem to me that the actual nuclear reactor technology is safer than people would imagine.  They've just got to invent a way of supercooling the reaction much faster than they were able to this time around.

Also, these reactors are forty years old.  I wonder how a reactor today differs?

P.S My water is not radioactive.

The Junior High School

I met the Junior High School head teacher today at one of the schools I'll be teaching at.  It's a middle-sized school with four or five hundred students - all of whom attend after school clubs of some kind.  It turns out that these clubs are primarily sporting, but run the gamut through to traditional Japanese particulars, such as the tea ceremony.

Tomorrow I'm picking up my immigration card thing, i.e a visa (hopefully).  I've a decision to make: should it be a multiple entry (6,000 yen) a single re-entry (3,000 yen) or no leaving permitted.  I'm probably going to choose the single re-entry, in case there's a chance to go somewhere.

It's pretty damned cold here right now.  The Japanese don't believe in insulation, so you have to heat the room constantly.  If you turn the heater off, it becomes cold immediately.  This will (I assume) lead to enormous heating bills.  I am, therefore, wearing a dozen layers instead of turning the heating on.  I'm one stop short of a woolly hat.

There's no gym here (that I've found yet) so I'm extremely worried about what I'm going to do for fitness.  There's a gym half an hour by train (the trains are worryingly intermittent at the moment, due to the earthquakes) but it ends up being an all-day affair just to get there if I use the trains.  Instead, I'll use the new bike they furnished me with (an old granny bike, with a basket on the front and everything) and cycle.  I think it will end up being about 45 minutes each way, but the benefit is that I won't have to spend half an hour on the treadmill each time I visit, which will cut the gym-time down significantly.

All my boxes arrived from Korea in one piece - except the computer.  The CPU cooler fell off, twice.  Don't use stock Intel coolers on I7 2600k cpu's, they're rubbish.  I'm not convinced it actually on properly now, but short of putting a hole through the motherboard, it's as fastened as it will ever be.

The shortages of fruit juices and milks is mostly alleviated.  There are still a few bare patches in the aisles, but I expect those to be filled within the next week or so.  We're still having earthquakes every day, usually a few.  There's been one day without any.  Most are tame, with a couple of shakers thrown in for good measure.

Someone requested more pictures, so here's the first hit when you type 'iwafune,' (the tiny town where I live) into google.

This isn't actually where I live, it's a different iwafune (in Kyoto.)  It looks nice though.

My iwafune looks nothing like this.