"Wow! Just... wow." The words left my mouth without the slightest bit of sarcasm, a growing trend with me and one contrary to the previous 26 years. I marked the map in my head with the location of the small, pleasant joint I had just stepped out of. I was still in the midst of understanding the complexities of the language used by the unassuming face of Makoto, the owner and cook. That process started nearly two hours earlier when I walked in.
That day started with much thought and reasoning. It also started at 11:36, the time when I decided for the third time that it was time to get up. 11.5 hours of sleep is too much for what I do on a regular basis, and it creates an argument for getting a job that mandates an early and more productive start to my day. At any rate, I resolved to reduce my expenses in March, and as a start, I insisted on cooking that day, too. Regular lazy mornings are great for creating associated lazy habits.
And like Makoto, Jonny, too, is full of surprises, offering just yesterday to let me use a few tools of his to work on my bike (scheduled for Wednesday at 13:15). This comes from a man with a family to feed, and the means to which is his bicycle shop. Upon seeing my front tire, lightly ravaged from the weekend's ride to Gujo Hachiman (a fantastic recommendation from Rob Thomson, more on this later), he gave me a (very slightly) used tire. He could have sold it to me, but this marks the second such instance of tire bequeathing. Both of the tires I now use daily are from Jonny, and I paid nothing for either.
I'm starting to like the Continental Grand Prix 4 Season tire, despite its very stiff ride and less-than-ideal traction around sharp corners in the rain. It is a very fast tire with a moderately-predictable feel, and is light yet durable (and therefore not very cheap, at nearly US$60 each). Compared to the Bontrager Race Lite Hardcase tires I used to cross the US (~US$50 each), they are lighter, stiffer, and faster. But, the Bontragers gave me 4,300 miles with only two flats across every conceivable type of road (including gravel, glass, flooded, and thorn-ridden roads for days on end), and have exceptional grip in all circumstances, not just the dry.
I stopped by his shop twice this week, each time discovering more and more about cycling. I left the first time with a new little pump and tire. Admittedly, the pump was more for the nifty factor than for the need to have a pump that fits in my bike's tool bag (so I don't have to consciously carry a pump in every bag I pack). The second time, I left with a small tube of Teflon grease, a necessity for the re-packing of my wheels' bearings and the bearings in my headset, which hadn't seen the light of day in over 1.5 years until three days ago.
While at his shop, I spied Mr. Inoue's new wheel. I'd use the word sexy to describe it, and if not that, then definitely sleek and sharp. I told Inoue of it, and he was excited to pick it up on Friday after work. Why does that matter to the grill out of which I had just stepped (see paragraph 1)? Well, I called him after I got home from work, wanting to go for a ride with him (to test out his new light, which is identical to mine), but he was out for drinks with his co-worker, Mr. Suzuki. I got an immediate invite to join, and since I was already on my bike at the time, my plans for the evening changed rapidly as I turned around and went towards Ichinomiya station (7 minutes).
I called Mr. Inoue (who has instructed me to call him Koki, his given name, implying culturally that I am now a close friend) when I arrived, and he met me soon at the station. We walked maybe 10 minutes to the small grill Makoto runs. At first, Makoto gave me a few odd looks. I wondered if he didn't like me (some people don't like foreigners, and some for good reason), and so I kept a low profile and a quiet tone. I avoided eye contact, and didn't order anything but a 生ﾋﾞｰﾙ ("nama biiru", or draft beer).
But quite thankfully, I was very wrong about Makoto. His name is maybe either誠 (literally "sincerity") or 実 (literally "reality" or "truth"); I don't know which, since 1) I'm a Japanese idiot, and 2) the pronunciation is the same. Anyway, I assumed he didn't like me by his eye contact and behavior. I was correct in noting that he acted differently towards me, but my assumed reasons were incorrect. As it would turn out, he speaks incredibly good English, and is exceedingly pleasant to talk with. I would put his fluency at 90 to 95%, some percentage points higher than anyone I've met in Japan who wasn't a native speaker (Jonny is about 80% fluent, Nakao-San is about 90%, and everyone else is pretty far behind them).
He and I began talking, at first about macroeconomics and its implications, and then about the infiltration and influence of religion in the US political system, and finally about the invasive nature of technology and how that is shaping the speed with which we learn of the world, and at the same time, how it can keep us from forming more traditional friendships in the real world (or, how we're divided by the very technology that connects us). We talked for two hours until, at about 00:40, Koki told me that he had to wake up at 5:30 to go to work. I'll be going back soon.
After it was all said and done, I headed back towards Ichinomiya (一宮) station with the two gentlemen (Mr. Suzuki, and Koki). Upon passing by the station, I noticed the scarf on a man slumped over sleeping. If you want to know the rest of the story pertaining to that man, contact me; I won't post it online for his sake.
This week, I've been back and forth with W5, another English company here in Japan, about a potential job in Inazawa (about a 20 minute bike ride from my apartment). Here are some details about both my current job and the potential one:
Currently, I work about 6 hours a day. You can start hating me at any time, it's ok. The potential job will require 8 hours a day for a nearly identical paycheck. Why take such a job? A few reasons.
1) Time off. Currently, I get 10 vacation days a year. Of those, I get to choose 5; the other 5 are set. I also currently get about two weeks at the end of the year. With the potential job, I get zero discretionary days, but I get more time off overall, including pretty much the entire month of August, two weeks in December, and one week in Spring. There may be another two week stretch of no work, but I can't say for sure (read: I forgot). Despite not working in August, I would still get paid 100 000 ¥ (40% of normal), which covers my monthly expenses. The idea of having a month off and still keeping my job and location is pretty good with me, and I would like to use that time to travel (probably state-side).
2) Environment. This one is more up and down, because right now, I have the classroom to myself. Of course, this puts all the responsibility for the students on me, and if something were to ever go wrong, there is no local support to be found. But, nothing has happened so far, and I have little reason to believe that it will, so this is a minor issue. The up side of having the place to myself is that I don't report to anyone on a regular basis. I presently see my boss about once every three weeks.
The potential job would be in an actual school, with actual staff, and much larger classes (closing on 30 students/class, as opposed to my present average of 8). However, I wouldn't be alone in the classroom; there will always be a second teacher (Japanese) present. That makes life easier in the discipline department. The other benefit of being in an actual school is that I would be more immersed in the language, the learning of which has been made a conditional event for my employment with Ryoki Tools.
3) Working more might do me some good. I currently wake up when my alarms (3, the first of which sounds like a duck) go off, and then go back to sleep until I feel like getting up. Most nights, I get much more sleep than I need, and once I am awake, I often lie in bed, thinking. Let's say that, on a normal day, I spend 10 hours horizontally, 9 to 9.5 hours of which are spent sleeping. Enviable, yes, but hardly useful. And, as one friend put it recently (I suppose not realizing that others have a need to contribute to the world, too), 'others would be irritated to be babysitting contractors, but we long to be useful.' I think we all long to be useful, but to whom that usefulness is varies widely. That's another can of worms.
4) Age. The proposed job would deal with elementary students, ages 6 to 12. That cuts out two age ranges from what I currently teach (2 to 17), and conveniently takes me away from the ages I dislike; the very young (who are temper, accident, and unreasonable-prone), and the very old (who are most often very quiet, and sometimes "too cool for school", though on occasion very smart and fun).
Downsides to this job are:
1) I would be giving my current employer less than 30 days of notice, which is far less than the 3 months they requested should I find another job. This shouldn't affect Mark in an ideal world (we work for the same company), but we don't live in an ideal world.
2) I may be slightly cut off from some of my social circles developed at work. This isn't a huge concern.
3) Of all the other teachers I know doing the same job, I have, without question, the best setup. All my schools are relatively nearby, I get every weekend off (most don't), the vast majority of my classes have really well-behaved kids, etc. If I make this move and then decide that working a 1st shift position for a few more hours a day isn't for me, I'm out of luck. If I give this up, you can bet good money it's not coming back.
4) I kind of like my students. Taking a new job means taking new students. This is a risk, but a relatively small one compared to moving to this country in the first place.
In other news:
1) I've started a (meager) propaganda campaign to get Thomas over here. If nothing else, it'll provide him with photos and stories.
2) Since the frequency of postings has decreased and most of the postings throughout winter were depressing, I assume that my readership here has dropped. Oh well.
3) My mother tends to pull things out of realistic perspective sometimes. Recently when on the phone with her, she alluded to suicide, drawing a vague association with my yearly (winter) depression (intense cabin fever, maybe?) and the horrible idea that I would ever consider taking myself out. "I just worry about you," comes off as an insult and a complete lack of faith in my ability to cope. The idea is laughably unrealistic, but unfortunately has taught me to censor what my mother has access to reading. She tried to play it off as "... not what I'm trying to say," but I would hear none of it; I called her out on it, for I felt really offended that she would even entertain the idea. This isn't the first time she's brought this to my attention, every time it's increasingly disguised in the sort of vague, drifting language designed to leave the audience to infer conclusions after the conversation is over. Meh. I'm not killing myself. Period. I'm infinitely more likely to be stuck by a car on my way to work, or otherwise be fatally injured in one of my adventures.
"I would rather die on my feet than live on my knees." - Patrick Henry.
4) Mark recently made a trip state-side. Many were worried (including Mark), for he has a history of not coping well with the reverse culture shock of coming back "home". But, despite heightened tensions normally found in the Middle East, I'm told everything went really well. Aya joined him a few days later, and they are currently on a cruise ship somewhere south of FL for their honeymoon. I hope it goes well and he comes back well-rested and ready to tackle life.
5) Since Friday, I've been lent a copy of Burn Notice's first season. Last night, I marathoned it (I watched every episode in one sitting). It comes recommended.
6) I've recently been very quiet. I've not shied away from social circumstances, nor have I sought them out, but personally, I've felt an odd calmness in my life. It's hard to describe, but I'm very happy it's here. Everything is, just... good. I spend a lot of time watching simple things move, taking in tiny details, or listening to my environment. I also don't find myself wanting to chase after a girlfriend (that's not new; I've been not chasing for maybe two months now). Everything is simple. I love it.
7) Gujo Hachiman. A few weeks ago, I was asking around for recommendations for a long weekend. Some were expensive, but one offered by Rob was cheap and promised to be a bit more attainable by bicycle. So, I planned to leave Friday morning (I had the day off work) for this mountain town, located some 70 km away and up a mountainside. But, as I began preparing, looking at maps, finding potential places to camp, and gathering what gear I thought I'd need, I remembered that I was set to meet Jonny to replace the crank on my bike early Friday afternoon.
I would have just replaced the crank disks (cheaper, easier), but the crank had placed itself on the verge of catastrophic failure. After learning of this, I had to ride with very low power input (high cadence). That's fine for riding in town, but Gujo Hachiman is up in the mountains where I was sure to use my lowest gear and still need to go lower while climbing, meaning more power input. I couldn't risk that kind of failure (potential injury, and then I'd be stuck in mountains with a vehicle only useful for going down hills), so I kept my appointment.
Jonny informed me that my choice was a good one; Gujo Hachiman was supposed to have snow. I pointed to my bike outside, which was packed and ready to take off to the mountains as soon as I had my new crank. I was sharply disappointed with my new-found open schedule. I spent the afternoon talking shop in the shop, musing about velomobiles, paragliding, and the adventures that turn in my head. Jonny talked about Italy, racing, quality versus quantity, and his shop. We had a good time.
With new crank installed (new tooth count: 36, 46 (a cyclocross crank), old tooth count: 34, 50 (compact road)), I went home. But, I wasn't about to let the weekend escape. I went to bed at 19:00, and set my alarm for 03:00.
** sleep**
My alarm went off, but the lights were on, and I was already awake. Adrenaline pumping and excitement high, I was up 3 minutes before my target time. Outside it was dark. Raining. Cold. Quiet. ... Perfect. Silently and with a determined focus, I re-arranged and lightened my gear for a day trip in the rain up the mountains and back. Breakfast was cup of coffee and some small bits of rice and tofu. I didn't waste time cooking; there was an adventure to take. A quick check: wallet, keys, cell phone, extra layers, extra socks, a second pair of gloves, tools, cameras, pump, duct tape, and some food. "Get out" were the only words I uttered. The door shut and locked, I rode off into the night.
For the rest of that tale, you'll have to stay tuned; it's 01:45, and unlike most days, I have somewhere to be in the morning. This post, written in MS Word, has now bled onto the 7th page. If you stuck out reading this whole update, you're a trooper. And if you're not a trooper, then it's just as well, since I have no idea why you pulled me over. Cheers. Good night/morning.
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"Great enterprises are only achieved by adventurous spirits." - Fables, Jean de La Fontaine, 1621-1695
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