I rode up the expressway into Akita to watch the biggest fireworks festival in all Japan. Getting off the tollway was a bit of a chore but after half an hour of maneuvering through the slog of cars and despite poor directions I made it just in time for the start. It was magnificent.

Of course, there were about half a million people there. Which meant that afterwards the throng proceeded to hop in their vehicles and clog the streets. I was staying the night at another JET’s place so I needed to get out of town and onto route 13. But the roads were jammed with cages. What’s a biker to do? Well, the nice policeman who gave me directions told me to drive on the wrong side of the road, as there was no traffic.

So I did. The road was a parking lot. I must have passed 500 cars. Ahh the advantages.

This morning I went with the vice-principal and one of the groundskeepers to an elementary school to pick up the rope for this week’s sports festival. The school we went to was in the absolute middle of nowhere; it served about 10 students in total (in six grades). Rice fields and forests on rolling hills surrounded the arbitrarily placed school, which looked like it had been built for a hundred students. A single winding mountain road, devoid of stoplights, twisted off into the hills, and not a single car was in sight. My only thought was that I should have brought my camera. I think I know where my next tour will be.

Yesterday I took a trip to Sendai on my motorbike, stopping for a quick detour into Furukawa to order a jacket. The day I ordered the bike there was a guy from my town getting a workup done on his bike. Yesterday he was in the shop as well, and left at the same time I did, but in a souped up Skyline. We wound up following the same route for 15km or so, trading off the lead.

The real challenge came once I got into Sendai. I followed the lead of the other bikers- apparently you’re expected to cut to the front at stoplights. From that point you accelerate fast enough to beat the other traffic. This shaves a good half hour off the trip but by the time I parked I was sweating rivulets. Thankfully the trip back was easier.

I came back from a quick trip to the post office to find that there was a giant teachers’ meeting in progress. What a surprise, the one time all the teachers are actually in the teachers’ lounge, and I can’t meet them.

So jumping into the middle of conversations is hard enough in one’s native language; imagine doing it in a foreign language. Now multiply that by ten because the Japanese language always assumes you always know the topic being talked about. Multiply it again by ten because half the people are mumbling, and again by ten becausethey’retalkingreallyfast, and again by ten because they’re changing topics every 30 seconds. Finally, multiply by a thousand because the FOUR handouts they gave you (without page numbers) are all written in what might as well be f**king Chinese. I swear, the paper I’m looking at now is solid kanji. The title is 17 kanji long. “Nowifyou’llturntothesecondpagethreepagesbeforetheoneentitledbreedinghabitsofAfricanrhinoceriinrelationtorelayracesandearthquakeswecancommencewiththepresentation.”

Oh yes, and I can’t ask the English teacher next to me for help, because she has her head buried in a mountain of papers and appears to be desperately trying to ignore me. Hm.

And of course, I’m certain they’re practicing the art of using as many words as possible without saying a damn thing.

Update:

2 hours later, and they’re still going at it. Good lord, when will it stop?