Springtime for Brenda in Niijima

(students' indoor shoes)



So, I was inspired by Grizzo and GCB's European shenanigans (see under 'Links') to post an entry... too bad I have nothing to write about.

Oh wait, yeah I do!

Spring is in gear. The mosquitoes are beginning their reign of terror and I sleep like a little princess underneath my sissy mosquito net, complete with velvet tassles (thanks, Dad). It's a new school year as well, and I shot a couple photos of my kids in action.

They had an opening ceremony with lots of standing and sitting and the principal doing some what looked like some wacky speech about counting in English but I'm sure was really about studying yer ass off. BTW, my principal is a black belt in judo and can do one hundred pushups. If you mess with me, he'll kill you in one move. Two, if he's feeling fancy.

After that was dodgeball. You'd think I'd be all cool and buff and kicking everyone ass in revenge for my own balls to the head in high school.













But no.






(defeated!)





Still suck at it, even with the cool glasses on. The students kicked ass, tho.






































And here are two of the three sexy new lady teachers that joined us:


The one on the left may look all sweet and innocent but can drink any Mexican or Irishman under the table. Seriously. The one on the right likes gangsta rap. Summer's gonna rule.





Then there was the student assembly (with snacks!),











and some taiko, which I can't get enough of,














teachers' introductions, and the student clubs try to persuade the freshmen to join up by doing little skits. Like the classic "Guys: It's baseball that gets the chicks":
















































It's also the baseball team that breaks into song and dance:

























All the freshman (or first-years, as they say here) are all giggly and high strung cuz they're in high school now. I tried saying hello to a group of them and they dissolved into hysterical giggles.











Sigh... life will soon cruelly beat that enthusiasm out of them.




That's pretty much it this week. Oh yeah, AND! I found out one of the nicer, swankier bars in town, the one with the kick-ass karaoke and the super-nice waitresses happens to be called Kuronbo Pub. Kuronbo = nigger. Yikes! According to Mike, the other gaijin here, the place is called Pub Kurombo, as in Colombus. But a straight up local set me straight. He didn't tell me why it was called that (or why the major toy store Kiddyland in Tokyo stocks the offensive little blackface dolls), but made a gesture that seemed like, "It's not like we're calling anyone that." Hmm, does it make me a total dick every time I go and party there?

Well, I'm meeting up with Stevhan next week in Vietnam and Cambodia and will soon be partying in Saigon with the Commies and hoping against hope that Stev doesn't kill us when we rent a motorcycle. It'll be a lot of gin and tonics (since I can't find any anti-malarials around) and adventures. Correspondance for Southeast Asia soon....

Hisashiburi, ne!

(Long time, no see!)

Yes, it has been a while, but that's because I've been taking care of shit. Like this:














I went back home to Chicago, where I immmediately devoured a giant carne asada burrito and then locked myself in the bedroom with my man (What? WHAT!? I'm a grown woman and my needs hadn't been met in a few months). But I'll get to all that in a sec.

Before I left, we had my welcome pati/farewell pati for all the teachers heading on to greener pastures. And while Niijima High School's a little slow on the pick-up (had to wait a two months for the party), they set up a NICE spread:










Yeah, that's a giant platter of sashimi tastefully arranged around the gutted fish. I was so busy stuffing my face with raw fish, I forgot to take pictures of the rest of the feast.



Now, because a lot of the senseis here are family men, they don't get as rowdy as the Kozu crew, but I still try to kick it up a notch by encouraging debauchery and karaoke. The after party was the place to be. We didn't have any blow, but we sure acted like we did.














And these are the married men. Woo!











Of course, the older gentlemen could totally keep up, except for Murakami-san, who's nickname is Pooh (and he really does look like the bear...)















So, after all the partying, I up and got INFLUENZA! At least, that's what they call it here. Maybe it's just a regular cold, but whatever, I felt like shit. And it knocked out all the first graders on the island (all seven of them). So, I got Chicago, feeling like a wadded up kleenex. But I was still horny, hence the 12 hour stay in Stevhan's bedroom.

After that, I did some of this












and more of this

















and then mustered up the energy to attend Marjorie's birthday shindig!












There was a lot of T&A but that's what happens when you're around beautiful people.




































And with T&A comes crotch shots.














And with crotch shots comes embarrassment.























Oh, that handsome blonde in the back? My man. Yeah, he gets mistaken for a male prostitute ALL the time...


















And while I was there, I stocked up on the basics like tampons, girl scout cookies, and designer jeans. But I was happiest when playing house with Stev (he sews his own button while his deadbeat girlfriend gets high on the couch),








watching movies, drinking whiskey, cooking food, playing with dogs...











It's the mundane stuff you miss the most when you're in a foreign country.




It's also kind of funny how my feelings for Japan have changed since I've been back. Before I left, I had some anti-Japan feelings stirring. Mainly from some stories I've read in the paper about the anti-foreigner sentiments here, ranging from deportation of children of Iraqi immigrants born here to police dismissing calls from gaijin to job discrimination based on race, sex, and religion. Now, I've never received anything nastier than a frosty nod from one of the local curmudgeons and yeah, I'll be gone in four months. But it's interesting to note that the things I take for granted back home are certainly not true the world over. I mean, it's not like we're all holding hands back home, but at least I'm not feeling like a second-class citizen.

But: falling asleep on the train back to Tokyo, not worrying about my shit getting stolen, finding a warm welcome from my old Kozu students at the pier, having my breakfast on the deck of the ferry boat in the morning on my way to Niijima. Japan and I had kissed and made up. I was glad to be back 'home'.