Boom! Boom! Boom!

SUNDAY, AUGUST 1

Lazy morning. I read some from “The Stories of English” which was given to me by Charles last year before his big move. He also gave me a book on English Structure, which will be next on my reading list. I should have snitched more of his books when I had the chance.

Breakfast was leftover rice. I had saved the leftovers in a bowl, with a plate on top, held on with a rubber band. I am nothing if not inventive. It hadn't dried out at all, which was lovely. I ended up just getting creative, so it's probably terribly un-Japanese. I used my saucer to heat butter (which, by the way is sold in big blocks, not sticks like at home.) then dumped in rice and stirred until it was well heated. I then mixed in salt, cayenne, basil and oregano. Later, for an experiment, I mixed in some white pepper as well, but liked it better without. I can only imagine all the nutritional benefits of white rice and butter.

It's getting hot in here. I have air conditioning, but I haven't turned it on yet, trying to sweat it out and save the extra money. Yet, according to my Washington Monument thermometer (which my father brought me back from one of his work trips to DC as a child, undoubtedly to the objections of my mother that I was spoiled and would never use it) it's 90 degrees in here and not yet 10am.

I spent the day furnishing my apartment. I stopped outside and asked Parker, who, like any sane person has his front door open to let in any trickle of breeze where the hundred yen store was, and he pointed me in the right direction. Hundred yen stores are like dollar stores, or pound stores, or Euro 2 stores in Ireland. Everything is a set price (here, about a buck, give or take) and they have EVERYTHING. Which, perhaps makes them very dangerous stores.

I visited twice, spending about 5,000 yen on the most basic of necessities and a few niceties (after all, it's only a buck!) I bought $12 in hangers (totaling 70 hangers) a cutting board, a vegetable knife, a sharp knife, soap dishes, kitchen towels, a bath mat, dish towels, veggie peeler, dish rack, you name it.

I have discovered that in Japan, they take their sack lunches very seriously, so I dressed mine up, too. I bought a (pink) cloth bag, two different, matching (pink) lunch tupperwares, a (pink) chopstick case, and (pink) chopsticks. It was a smart move on my part, because my coworkers all eagerly commented on my lunch today, when they saw the bag sitting neatly on my desk.

Also, in case you haven't noticed, I decided to make pink my theme. This way, like in 'The Sixth Sense” (which I've never seen, but I paid attention in English class when we discussed it during the film unit) everything red had been touched by the devil or some such, everything pink in my apartment has been personalized by me. (Un)Fortunately, Japan makes this so, so easy. My sink drain cover is now pink (and in the shape of a bear!), as the one there was looking ratty and I didn't want my dishes next to it. My chairs have pink stockings. Yes, chairs here have stockings. No, I don't know why (I could speculate on that not leaving marks on the floors, or making it quieter in an apartment, but I really don't know for certain.) I had had seven stockings on my two chairs (yes one was missing) and they were old, a hideous brown and filled with dust, hair, and dirt. It looks much more homey now. Plus, the floor in the front hallway is already a light rose, so, really, I'm only matching the pre-existing decor.

While organizing was also the first time I heard the drums. I live very close to a temple and I had been told that you could hear traditional drumming. It went on for about ten minutes and was very peaceful.

Once I got that all set, I headed back toward the hundred yen shop. See, on my way over the first time, I noticed that there seemed to have been quite the hubbub, but with a basket bursting with my new treasures, I was hardly going to stop, leave them and my bike and walk around. But, while I was hanging clothes, Parker rang up and told me that a traditional Japanese dance would be starting at 6:30. So, I biked over to check that out.

Pictures will be up soon. I'm not sure what the celebration was for, but there were tents everywhere with food and a few small handicrafts for kids. There was even a tent for the Japanese chapter of the Red Cross. The dance was in the middle of a boulevard with traffic blocked off. There was a stage on which about 5 men in kimono/yukata stood singing or playing instruments (like drums or a stringed something.) Meanwhile, around the stage in a huge circle, were the dancers. There were obviously many groups, as they each had their own outfits (mostly a yukata of their groups' pattern, but some with traditional hats, or parasols, and some in just black pants and matching shirts.) They did a simple step, clap and tap dance, that slowly moved them around the stage. I'd guess the whole rotation (and they did 1.5) was about 30 minutes or more.

The festival also meant that many people were dressed up. All over, dotting crowds in “western wear” were girls in bright yukata, children in yukata, bright traditional patterned pant outfits, and even a far number of men in yukata. The children, in particular, were adorable.

One thing that hit me during the festival was that I was the only white person around. I had been the only white person (non-Asian, and I might even presume, Non-Japanese) in the department store, and now at the festival again. It made me feel like I stood out and everyone was watching me/paying attention to me, even if I don't think they were. Yes, Junior, now I know how it feels. I did eventually seen one other white guy, and I stated at him in shock until he smiled at me and walked past. Oops.

I biked straight from the dancing out toward where I'd heard there would be fireworks. I love fireworks. Parker said to just follow the crowds, so I did, and ended up parking my bike in a rice paddy and watching with a crowd of other people, as the mountains faded into night and the fireworks (finally) started.

By this point, it was getting dark, and I biked about 3 blocks before I realised I should turn my bike light on. I pulled over on a side street and tried to figure it out, but I had no idea how Parker had managed it. Luckily, there was a conveniently located pedestrian (phrase to be trademarked soon) who, with a quick “sumimasen!” (my favorite word!) some pointing, and a flashing hand motion, he helped me click something into place. Lights here are built onto bikes are are powered by the turning of the wheel itself. If you bike, you power your own light. It's nifty.

It was a long show, perhaps over an hour, or two. I don't have a watch here. It was smaller (though longer) than Rhythm and Booms. About on par with Elver's fireworks, only with four or five “finales.” Otsu's fireworks this weekend are supposed to be particularly impressive.

After that, I biked home and tried not to get myself killed by cars or accidentally run anyone over. My light seems to be more to identify me than to light my way. I saw my first person wearing a helmet, a child who was wearing it so loosely that I actually double checked to see if it was snapped. I'm surprised it wasn't falling off his head. I passed them but saw them later in front of my apartment building. Neighbors... they cheated by having home court advantage in getting home faster by taking short cuts and direct routes.

By this point, it was about 9pm. I'd been going to bed at 10, so it was getting quite late, but I HAD to make lunch for tomorrow. So I started frantically washing my rice, then let it soak while I cut up my veggies. Eventually, I stir-fried them, ate some, then packed the rest away as lunch for Monday. Finally, exhausted, I took a quick shower and headed off to bed at 11, the latest yet in Japan.