winter cycling and warm hearts

Nothing warms the heart quite like the sight of a monk, dressed in full regalia, run a red light on a moped.

Happy days.

Log burning fires and the lack thereof

Its cold now. I know I commented on this last time, but I'm going to say it again. Of course, this is all comparative, the temperature is probably only 7 or 8 degrees or so, but its been raining, so it feels a little chillier.
Japanese houses don't have central heating (maybe they do in Hokkaido, but I'm told around here C.S. is a rarity), so after a few months of natural air-con (i.e. opening the windows) it has once again become too something to do that.
So, last week on went the air-con and my skin instantly dried up. Nice. Now starts my twice annual hunt for good moisturizer...
My students have been telling me about something called a kotatsu, from which it seems people rarely stray during the colder months. This is actually just a low table with a heater attached to the underside, so it performs the dual function of keeping food warm and one's tootsies toasty. I'd seen pictures before, but it only twigged what these things actually did last week, so this is in effect a public service announcement. The beauty of it you see, is that in addition to the heater, people put a futon over the table as well, to keep the hot air in. I mention this, because as Jack posted a video of the first log fire of the season at the Mapledurwell ranch on his blog a couple of weeks back, I have been feeling a yearning towards warm winter nights. I'm obviously not allowed to burn stuff here, so I'm going to investigate the Japanese option on Monday.

Weather report

Today is the first Saturday in November. I'm not at work because I have the 'flu/cold, I've been feeling pretty icky and bless her, Sachi our manager has rung twice to ask if she can take me to the hospital. I'm coming to the conclusion that riding out illness is not the done thing here, that you should go to the hospital/doctor at the first sign of illness. Still, its only been a few days, so I'm going all western and sleeping, drinking hot lemon, taking hot baths and trying not to think about letting our students down, or worse, making them take Multi-Media lessons.
Had I not been feel a bit grotty I would be enjoying the glorious sunshine and warm temperatures right now. Coming from a country where the seasons seem to have merged into one rather nondescript season, characterized only by a slight increase in temperature or marginally improved chance of snow, I find the seasons rather fascinating.
I always mark the beginning of winter by the time in which I can no longer wear flip flops. This was only two weeks ago (and for Katie only a couple of days ago - she was even less impressed with the necessary change of footwear than me, and I'm pretty anti-socks). Its still warm - I can go out without a sweater if its in the middle of the day.
Autumn is here though; it has crept up on us, quietly and gradually. So gradually that none of us really noticed until the socks appeared again. The air has lost its humidity, now it is crisp and fresh. It gets cool much earlier, we can leave the windows open for ventilation rather than having to keep them closed to help the efforts of the air conditioning. Last night I had to shut the windows because it was too cool. It's darker too - when I leave work at 5.40 we are into dusk; sepia toned sunlight (if we're lucky) and optional headlights. The rice has been harvested and the fields have been rotivated already, allowing time for the ground to rest until the next sowing of the seeds. And, typically Japanese, the fire engines' sirens can be heard more regularly. The dry spell of autumn is coupled with more house fires, and the fire brigade seems to be working nightly now. News of serious fires are transmitted by a loud siren; 1 drone for the all clear, 2 for fires nearby, 3 for ones far away. The wailing is disconcerting on a still, cool night and kind of heightens the drama of it all - a few times I've rushed outside, expecting to see half of Nakatsu ablaze, but I'm guessing the fire brigade just relish having some actual work to do (the last time I saw them, it was in March and they were cruising around halfheartedly reminding people not to set fire to things).

Pan- Pacific Career Advice

I'm in a slump. So's Laura. This makes me feel better.
Until last year I thought I knew what I wanted to do with myself - PhD, teaching, yay. Now, I'm really not sure that's what I'd be happiest doing; keeping up to date with positions advertised at various Universities, Colleges and educational supplements I'm realizing that entering the world of academia gives you very little choice as far as locations are concerned. I don't want to end in living in Coventry or Aberwythstythhwyth (????) no matter how good the job is. Once I'd realized this, admitted this (these two stages occurred months apart - denial is a bitch) and come to terms with it, I've been feeling rather unsettled.
I'm certainly not complaining about my current situation. I'm loving living in Japan, with all its quirks, differences, similarities and food. Its great to have a set working week and two CONSECUTIVE days off WITH Jon. I love only having one job to think about and I love seeing students progress.
Even so, being overly thoughtful about most things does mean that I've been wondering what I should be doing long term. So, during one of our phone dates, Laura and I were chatting at length about this and after we agreed to exchange emails with our respective non-life plans. I have to say there's nothing like having a friend who knows you well suggest things, plots and plans that should have seemed like natural and logical choices all along. Now I have my plan(s) I have to figure out a way to combat my biggest hurdle - my tendency to let imagination rule over practicality - and just GET ON WITH IT.
Go on, phone a friend.

Trust Fun

A few months back now (notice how I've decided to not bother with an apology about the lack of recent posts?) the Mapledurwell clan were visiting and we went on a little jolly to Nagasaki. We had decided that dinner was probably a good idea, but as with any city you're unfamiliar with we had no idea where to even start looking. We located the entertainment/food district and were still wandering around, hoping that a restaurant would magically appear from nowhere right there in front of us on the sidewalk. Jon decided to ask a random guy working in one of the many pachinko parlours. He clearly had no idea what we were talking about, and the longer i watched him and Jon talking the younger I realised he probably was. By the time we left I concluded he was probably no more than 16. In the midst of this confusion, a [very] drunk salaryman emerged and with good (though inebriated) English he told us that he knew a great restaurant and that we should follow him. I could sense three reactions to this:
1/Relief - from the child working in the pachinko place
2/Interest mixed with slight apprehension - me and Jon, slightly familiar with this kind of harmless drunkenness, but nevertheless a little unsure of where we were going, especially as the prostitutes down this street all seemed to know this guy...
3/Suspicion - the Clan. Who the hell is this guy and where the hell is he taking us?
Of course, we needn't have worried, Drunken Salaryman personally escorted us to an amazing restaurant that we would never have found in a million years, spoke to the waitress, sorted us out with a table, bid us adieu and stumbled off into the night.
If that had been London, he'd have walked off with all our valuables and we'd all probably be indentured somewhere in North Korea by now. Trust is fun.