Where’s Summer B.?

On Sunday, I went to Miyajima to see these guys. Maybe you’ve heard of them.

And I’m went to see them here:

For this event: 黒澤明生誕100年 ＩＮ 宮島 (Link is English, no worries.)

That feeling that you’re getting right now? Delicious jealousy. ^___^

I’ve always attributed “floating in the ether” to have rather negative connotation. But currently, I’m really not feeling that. I look in the mirror at myself, and boy am I happy with what I see. Confidence, happiness, a general feeling of being content; all these things have found their way to my features, and everyone has been telling me so. That, combined with there being generally less of me in the mirror to begin with, is all adding to the whole Finding Tara plan. It’s working very well, and I’m very happy with it.

So what’s been going on? Let’s see.

First semester (trimester?) is almost over!! Only 3ish more weeks left. I would say it flew by, but it really didn’t. Teaching in Japan is a whole lot harder than people make it out to be! It’s possible that that could be my inexperience talking, or the high standards my company sets for us, but either way, it’s not a total walk in the park. It pays off, so so well, though. I’ve inspired kids to actually LIKE English, teachers to actually USE their English, and I’m even teaching a Japanese/American kid to read English. Even the special needs kids seem ok around me, which I take as a huge compliment. Teaching is the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done, and it makes all the paperwork and annoying pre-lesson meetings worth it. Some lessons don’t go just right, but I’m sure that will get better with time. I’ll get the hang of this.

I finally, officially, own my first box of Munchkin. I can’t believe it’s taken me since high school to buy a set, but now that I can afford it, it didn’t seem so bad. AND I have people here to play it with, which is… pretty much why I bought it in the first place. If Munchkin goes down well with the Agricola group, I’ll be picking up Star Munchkin as well. Hooray!

Oh yes, I’ve been an Agricola fiend. Jordan brought his copy from the states, and since my house is the apparent social hub of Hatsukaichi, it now lives here with me. We end up between 4-7 times a week, with about half of those games involving alcohol. I’ve yet to win a game, but that’s only partially because Jordan was a chess prodigy when he was a kid. He’s got a few moves on me (but not for long!).

There’s another weird thing. Ever since I left the states, I’m finding that male interest directed my way is in no way lacking. …Which is weird. But I’m not complaining!! (Karma, cover your damned ears.) I’m really finding that physical appearance isn’t as much of a barrier as I’ve always been told and made it out to be. It’s all up in the noggin, really. And if someone says “Wow, you’re cool and all, but boy you’re just too big”, well… your loss, jerk. Next!

My most favoritest of udon restaurants just opened up a store walking distance from my house. All that weight I’ve lost? Yeah, it’s gonna come riiiiight back. XD

MY TOMATOES ARE GROWING HOLY GODS Did I mention that I’m getting far too excited about my tomatoes? Your opinion matters not, world, for I am absolutely giddy at the notion that I’m growing my own freaking food. AND I finally found herbs at the Juntendo (think Home Depot), so my next trip there will be planning out my window box. AND, at long last, I’ve started a 5L jug of umeshu, a deliciously amazing kind of sour plum liquor. While it’ll be ready by December, I’m going to hold off until at least March or April to start dipping in.

Summer vacation is coming up quickly for us (mid-July to late August), so if any of you were thinking about hopping over the Pacific/Sea of Japan/Tsugaru Straight, or are in Japan and wanting to explore Hiroshima, you have but to poke me now to make arrangements. Anyone is welcome! I have an extra room with a bed and everything. Plans to go to Tokushima with Jordan are coming to fruition, but that may not be until the first week of August.

Soooo that’s what’s going on. I’m trying my hand at gardening and homegrown things, am surrounded by great people, in a great apartment in a beautiful city in an amazing country, doing something I love to do and sustaining myself by it… What can I say? Japan is making my dreams come true. So fucking cheesy, but there it is.

I’m really sorry that I’ve sucked at updating the past couple months. Really, really going to work hard to remedy this now.

Wait, what? I’ve been in Japan for 2 months already?!

Holy crapsticks.

“But Tara, what are you actually doing over there?” Good question. Let’s see if I can take you through a typical day of mine.

M/T/W – 7:15am; Th/F – 6:30am
GOOD MORNING BEEP BEEP BEEP. If my phone had any choice in the matter, I’m pretty positive it would go straight for my throat. My M-W school is a 5 minute bike ride from my house, so I get to have extra sleep on those days. My Th/F school is a 10 minute walk, 20 minute train ride, and 10 minute walk/bus ride away, but totally worth it because I love that school. Breakfast does NOT happen; if I eat anything before lunch besides tea, I’ll get sick during 5th/6th periods, and that’s not a good situation.

8am(ish) to 5pm(ish)
Work. I’m contracted 40 hours a week to the BoE, but the bus/train/class schedule being what it is, and depending on how much I play with the kids after school, I typically spend about 45 hours a week at my schools. An average day is 4-5 classes, which will certainly take it out of you if you’re energetic enough. The rest of my time I’ll spend at my desk planning lessons or making materials, roaming around the hallways high-fiving the kids, poking my head into classrooms, or playing with the special needs kids. I’m getting pretty good being a human jungle gym, have developed a great dinosaur impression, and earned numerous nicknames from the kids for different faces I can make. (“Sakana-me”, which means “fish eyes”, “Shiro-me”, which means “white eyes”, and “Kokao”, which I guess is shortened from “scary face”. Silly kids.)

I teach whatever curriculum the schools want me to teach. At my Th/F school, I’m working on redoing the curriculum, because my predecessor was apparently less than optimal at doing his job. 5th and 6th grade have to learn out of a Ministry of Education textbook called “Eigo Noto” (English Note), which I really dislike. Because of this textbook, I see my 5th and 6th graders for 35 classes a year. This means I see my 1-3 at each school 15 times a year, and my 4th grade 10 times a year. Why yes, it sucks, but we make the most of our class times (except for today, when my third graders were being MONSTERS).

5pm – ?
I keep VERY busy after work, mostly. Tuesday nights, I go to Miyauchi (a few stops down) for weekly Japanese lessons offered by the Hatsukaichi International Association. Daisuke goes with me for the advanced class, and afterwards we will normally go for Tuesday Night All You Can Eat Ramen (his current personal best is 5 bowls; mine is 2. He’s a beast!). Wednesday nights, Jordan sometimes comes over to play Agricola, or Leigh and I will go run errands. Thursday after work, I go out to Miyajima island to eat at Mastumoto’s cafe with Jordan, chat up cute Japanese girls in the manjuu shops, and give them some easy English lessons. We get paid in manjuu, I really can’t complain. Fridays always end up with Agricola and alcohol at my house. Always. I can’t prevent this from happening. Saying no just doesn’t happen.

Weekends
Typical weekend-y stuff. Laundry, shopping, etc. Leigh and I will sometimes to go an onsen (big hot springs type bath, so awesome once you get past the OMG I’M NAKED aspect). Sometimes the four of us will go out for a really big dinner. Maybe karaoke happens. Perhaps a trip into Hiroshima city to go look for something or another. I usually have house guests. Weekends are far too short.

This is all excluding nauseating descriptions of the beautiful temples that I see on my way to work, the fact that I live spitting distance from a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the Three Views of Japan (as in, I pass it on my way to work twice a week), and how great it is here. That, however, is for another post and another day.

See? I’m just a regular working stiff with an 8-5 job. I promise I will make a picture post soon to aid in the you-guys-being-here-with-me thing!

Life continues to be hellishly busy and thoroughly amazing. My friends and my current life are working very hard to fill the hole in my heart that last relationship left. It’s going to plague me for a long time, but time (and a whole lot of hard work) will heal the wound and fill the void.

I have found more wonder and pure life in the past 2 months than ever before, I think. There is suddenly more of a crystalline shine to raindrops, more pure energy crackling through the air with each burst of lightning during a storm. Food tastes better, the air smells sweeter. My body moves easier (probably due to the 6-8 kilograms I’ve dropped since my arrival), my mind is able to relax a bit. Daily aspects of life have become simpler; if I need something from the store, I can go buy it without having an existential crisis on whether or not I’ll be able to afford to eat.

I don’t know if these peaceful kinds of posts will stop. I never, ever want them to. I want to be in love with life like this forever. And to think, to have someone to share this with? My head explodes just thinking of the possibilities… but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m still hanging out with just me, because I am my priority here. Once The Me has been figured out to the extent of proper functioning, I’ll move on to other things on my list.

And with all that said, I’m planting tomatoes this weekend!!!

I feel simultaneously poetic and speechless. Doesn’t make for a good combination, really. But for right now, I’m exhausted. Time for sleepies. <3

As much as I want to sit down and regale the entirety of the past month and a half to you, we both know that it’s just not going to happen. Suffice to say, Spain was phenomenal! I got schooled in European and Spanish culture, and saw things beautiful enough to make me question even my own thoughts. Eventually, I may get around to blogging about them, but for now, I will leave it at that. The experience was eye opening and wonder inducing, and made for a great platform to board my current adventure.

I’m sitting here in my tatami room, the windows open, first glimpses of spring weather finally coming through the screen door, my futon doing it’s weekly airing out on the laundry pole. I have a big can of whatever lemon flavored fruity cocktail alcohol was left over from a rowdy night a couple weeks ago, Indian leftovers coming to room temperature in my kitchen, and the distinct smell of what I can only describe as Japan filling my room. Over the past month, I have finally felt that overall sense of contentment that I can only call peace. There’s a distinct spring in my step, more of a chance to see a smile on my face for no particular reason. While I’ve been working so tirelessly the past few years to get back here, through the ups and downs, I sometimes had found myself questioning if it would be worth it in the end; if this was nothing more than a silly dream, if the naysayers had been right, if this would be a waste of time, if this was, perhaps, all for naught. What if I got lonely? What if I got sick? What if this wasn’t what I thought it would be, and then I would be stuck?

The wise Harry Dresden said that pain and fear are some of mankind’s best motivators. In a sense, that is very true. But someone else said something to me many years ago that has stuck with me, and helped to drive me forward ever since:

“Listen to your heart; the rest will follow.”

I don’t know if Norm, my sophomore year resident director, knew what an impact that would have on my. Hell, I don’t even know if that’s his quote. But I do know that it has become a way of life of sorts, and I couldn’t be more grateful to him for helping to plant that seed of wisdom.

So as the sparkly beverage makes it’s way through my system, and I sit here in a sunbeam like a lazy cat, I’m happy. My life is finally my own. I’m here, with all of you, and with myself.

I never thought it would feel this good.

Life has been a whirlwind. Suffice to say, I’m finally starting to feel content. <3

I also don't have internet yet, so I'm taking bits and pieces of what I can at the internet cafe. There will be a massive update yet to come, but here, have this to tide you over:

Hanami in Hatsukaichi, 3/4/10, with newfound friends.

I have so much to discuss about Europe, I’ll try to do this in chunks.

On Friday, I was dragged out of the house to see Madrid. The day was overcast, and Rachel pointed out that “this is not what Spain really looks like!” quite a few times. After a few rides on a crowded Metro, we emerged in the Puerta del Sol, the center of Madrid. (Sidenote: Madrid is not built in a grid fashion, but in circular radials instead. Puerta del Sol is like mile marker 0 in Madrid.) The plaza is huge and beautiful, complete with a bell tower and fountain. There was some sort of banana giveaway that day, so we didn’t spent long in the plaza itself. We hit a pastry shop and picked up snacks, which we took to Plaza Mayor to enjoy. There was a beautiful market which, while a bit expensive, carried just about everything you could think of. To make up for the failed ones I made a few months ago, I picked up some freshly pre-made pumpkin gnocchi for a later dinner. After tons and tons of walking, we met up with a friend of Rachel’s for some Lebanese food (I still miss the Greenland Cafe, Tampa!), took the Metro back home, had tapas and drinks at a bar, and picked up some fruit at the local market. Productive, tiring, good day.

Saturday was a day trip to Cuenca!! Rachel and her friends had been trying to plan this trip for months, but the universe kept getting in the way. It really was a “Where have we never been before? Let’s pick there and go!” kind of trip. Three hours on a bus got us there, but while everyone was napping (7am bus trips FTL), I was staring out the windows, in awe. Beautiful rolling mountains, destroyed and half standing castles, fields of olive trees… stunningly beautiful, and with earphones in, I had it all to myself. Cuenca (say: kwen-ka) is a historic city, complete with a STUNNING cathedral. We walked through the cathedral, spent some time on tall walkway bridge, and saw houses hanging over the side of mountains. Like any good cathedral, it was at the top of a mountain, so we could overlook the entire city. It was beautiful!! Pictures are posted here on facebook for your looking pleasure.

Sunday was my first trip to the El Rastro Market. The size of this place defies belief! Imagine 2-3 miles of nothing but booths filled with everything you can imagine, at cheap cheap prices. You could spend a whole day there and not see everything! I ended up picking up some scarfs, some cheap omiyage, earrings, etc., and we had a fantastic time. Rachel’s friends were coming over for dinner, but since it was Sunday and everything in Madrid closes, the only supermarket was one in the Metro. A little pricey, but we got what we needed, headed home, and had delicious food and great company for dinner. Rachel because my official translator, as two of her friends didn’t speak a lick of English!

These will be the talking points of my next Spain entry (just to keep myself organized):
(getting around by myself, Palace)
(staying inside, Prado museum, walking around with Rachel, pallaya)
(school with Rachel, Irish bar for St. Patty’s day)
(Alcala)
(Reina Sofia, McDonald’s, Museo de la Radio bar)
(Toledo)
(Rastro again, Fallen Angel park, Flamenco)

I really want to write about Japan, so that will probably be my next entry. For now, I’m exhausted, and it’s bedtime. Training starts tomorrow!!! Wahoo.

So! I’m here in Madrid, Spain, and it is neato completo. How did I get here, you ask? Weren’t you just whining about being fat, you may wonder? Well, yes, but that will be for another entry.

Saturday night was the Serengeti Night Safari that I won because of the badass tour selling I was doing. (204 tours sold in an entire month, when the ENTIRE front gate total was about 1k? Management was kissing their heels with all the praise I got.) The night went something like this: beer, beer, food, beer, more beer, have you had enough beer yet?, here’s more beer, let’s go see animals at night, oooh look animals, dirty jokes from the tour guides, a “beer deposit” stop, let’s get on the back of a flatbed truck when the wind chill is -284 and see more animals, beer, beer, campfire, beer, story about rhino artificial insemination gone wrong, beer, QUICK CHUG YOUR BEER WE HAVE TO GET BACK ON THE TRUCK, now that we’re all drunk let’s feed some giraffes!, dirty jokes from the tour guides about prehensile giraffe tongues, coffee spiked with Kahlua, pastries, hot chocolate spiked with Kahlua, free photo and mug, to hell with the coffee let’s just drink the Kahlua, good night and please give the keys to your DD. Brad, Chris, and Megan came with me, and I couldn’t have had a better time. So many awesome times were had. XD If you go to Busch Gardens, I really really highly recommend splurging on the Night Safari. Hilarity will ensue, that’s a damned fact.

Sunday night was spent putting the finishing touches on packing my life into 2.5 suitcases. I said goodbye to Marc, Sarah, and Brad, and spent the night at Chris and Megan’s. After BK breakfast on Monday morning, they took me to the airport, where I had to repack parts of my suitcases in the middle of the airport. Thanks, airlines, for telling me that my life can only be worth 50lbs per suitcase. Landed in New York in the afternoon, and spent the next couple days shopping with my aunt. We picked up all the OTC drugs I’ll need (Ibruprofen, Tylonol, Sudafed, cold medicines, etc.), a few shirts, and a pair of pants. There was a fabulous little plus size shop called Alight in Plainview that I scored some AMAZING little jewelry pieces from. There was food and playing with the dog, and generally a nice quiet few days with the family.

Then, there was flying to Madrid.

After a quick panic attack at the airport, one of my bags ended up being so overweight that it wasn’t allowed to fly on Air Europa. Super rapid re-packing (AGAIN) happened, and after I almost broke the zipper on my favorite suitcase, I was on my way. The flight was empty. Stretched out over two seats, I was able to put away a few bites of the “pasta” we were served for dinner before nap time. Upon awaking, I was lucky enough to open the window as the sun was starting to rise. Have you ever seen the sun rise flying over the Atlantic Ocean? Rich reds and oranges rising from the clouds, reflecting down on a vast sea of glittering nothingness? I’m going to have to start reading a thesaurus, or “beautiful” is going to get overused rather quickly.

The ride was a short 6.5 hours, and we landed at Barajas in Madrid. After a nice long line to get a shiny new stamp in my passport, my luggage was obtained and money was exchanged. Rachel found me at the terminal with a hand drawn rooster drawing and chorizo sandwich. Then, we started the long… long… long… long walk to the Metro.

And then it got fun.

Call me excessive or what you will, but one of my bags weighs roughly 60lbs and the other about 70lbs. This is on top of my carry-on (maybe 15lbs) and my laptop/book backpack (about 20lbs). We had to lug this through three Metro stations and up 4-5 flights of stairs.

-_-

Suffice to say, failarity ensued. The pull up handle on my newest suitcase ended up snapping right off when I got off the second Metro. It took us the better part of an hour and a half to make our way back to Rachel’s piso, and by then, I never wanted to see another piece of luggage again in my life. Ever. EVER. Seriously. But snacks, a shower, and a nap were had, and the world was shiny again. Rachel and her beau Rolando made some delicious pasta with chorizo (sensing a theme here?), and we called it a night.

Next time: Plaza del Sol, pastries, Lebanese food, going to the market, and drinking the Spanish way. Also, a post on today’s bus trip to Cuenca.

Welcome to the travel journal! This will be the first of many posts about my travels around the world.

Pre-Departure
Sunday night was spent putting the finishing touches on packing my life into 2.5 suitcases. I said goodbye to Marc, Sarah, and Brad, and spent the night at Chris and Megan’s. After BK breakfast on Monday morning, they took me to the airport, where I had to repack parts of my suitcases in the middle of the airport. Thanks, airlines, for telling me that my life can only be worth 50lbs per suitcase. Landed in New York in the afternoon, and spent the next couple days shopping with my aunt. We picked up all the OTC drugs I’ll need (Ibuprofen, Tylonol, Sudafed, cold medicines, etc.), a few shirts, and a pair of pants. There was a fabulous little plus size shop called Alight in Plainview that I scored some AMAZING little jewelry pieces from. There was food and playing with the dog, and generally a nice quiet few days with the family.

Then, there was flying to Madrid.

After a quick panic attack at the airport, one of my bags ended up being so overweight that it wasn’t allowed to fly on Air Europa. Super rapid re-packing (AGAIN) happened, and after I almost broke the zipper on my favorite suitcase, I was on my way. The flight was empty. Stretched out over two seats, I was able to put away a few bites of the “pasta” we were served for dinner before nap time. Upon awaking, I was lucky enough to open the window as the sun was starting to rise. Have you ever seen the sun rise flying over the Atlantic Ocean? Rich reds and oranges rising from the clouds, reflecting down on a vast sea of glittering nothingness? I’m going to have to start reading a thesaurus, or “beautiful” is going to get overused rather quickly.

The ride was a short 6.5 hours, and we landed at Barajas in Madrid. After a nice long line to get a shiny new stamp in my passport, my luggage was obtained and money was exchanged. Rachel found me at the terminal with a hand drawn rooster drawing and chorizo sandwich. Then, we started the long… long… long… long walk to the Metro.

And then it got fun.

Call me excessive or what you will, but one of my bags weighs roughly 60lbs and the other about 70lbs. This is on top of my carry-on (maybe 15lbs) and my laptop/book backpack (about 20lbs). We had to lug this through three Metro stations and up 4-5 flights of stairs.

-_-

Suffice to say, failarity ensued. The pull up handle on my newest suitcase ended up snapping right off when I got off the second Metro. It took us the better part of an hour and a half to make our way back to Rachel’s piso, and by then, I never wanted to see another piece of luggage again in my life. Ever. EVER. Seriously. But snacks, a shower, and a nap were had, and the world was shiny again. Rachel and her beau Rolando made some delicious pasta with chorizo (sensing a theme here?), and we called it a night.

Next time: Plaza del Sol, pastries, Lebanese food, going to the market, and drinking the Spanish way. Also, a post on today’s bus trip to Cuenca!

The ideas I have, have all been had before. They’ve been thought of, philosophized about, hashed through and accepted as a part of basic life. When I come up with something that’s new and fantastic to me, when I tell the world about it, when I share it with the people that matter most to me… I get a pat on the head and a “yeah?” with that rising end intonation that denotes that Yes, of course that’s what that means, now what was your real point?

Part of this frustration stems from watching the growth of one that I’m close to, and seeing how similar it is to mine. Someone that I have spent a few years with. It was difficult to watch this person grow when I was going through such a reconstruction as I was, but there were a few glimpses that were able to be gleaned. Now, as I’ve kept watching and listening and learning about this person, so much more has been picked up than they have noticed. We have walked the same path, but in different shoes. We have evolved the same way, but by contrasting means. Yet, this person finds that treating me like a child was (and still is) the only course of action. We have both arrived in a forest, and they are both filled with trees. Perhaps theirs are a bit stronger and wider, and mine are more colorful and limber, but does that make one forest better than the other?

Why must I be made to feel so inferior because I don’t think deeply every waking hour of the day? Why must I feel as though what I’m doing with my life isn’t worth it because I’m taking the path less traveled? Why must everyone be expected to have a plan leading to some great American dream?

The question here, I suppose, is: When will I ever be allowed to feel good about being me? I am so self-aware these days that it’s slaying my left brain to watch my right brain act. I can see myself doing things at the exact moment I’m doing them, and not be able to do anything about it. Is this what ADD eventually manifests into: a life essentially filled with two people in one body, both completely cognitive and aware and not able to communicate with each other? I look around at people who are seemingly well-adjusted, who can think in a straight line or in a hazy cloud, but can at least keep their focus. Why is this such a foreign concept to me? Perhaps this lends itself to why I’m so good at playing devil’s advocate, and why I’m so poor at oral debating. The other side of an argument is already playing out in my head, and before anything makes it’s way to my mouth, the first side is speaking up again. I feel like Jane Brady, with all this chatter going on. If you’ve ever seen me argue a point with myself, you know what I’m talking about.

It makes me wonder if this is where my problem with weight is taking place. Both sides of my brain have the ability to get motivated, but never at the same time, and when one loses interest, forget that plan. I’m not shy about asking for help, but the help I get is never complete enough for my mind to totally grok it. The most common advice is always “Just buckle down and do it. Make yourself do it.” Maybe for someone whose brain functions in harmony, this works like a charm, but my head just simply can’t wrap around it. The switch is still in the locked position, and I’ve yet to figure out the unlock code.

I can’t write eloquently, with flowing verbiage and elucidations that sing of beauties untold. I can’t philosophize past my own vision of wonder. I can rarely use big ides in conversations, and words like “relative” and “subjective” are still shiny and new in my vocabulary. But I can make you smile. I can show you the beauty in a single musical note. I can absorb knowledge like a dry sponge, and once in a great while form a wisdom from it. I have seen bliss and agony, and know how to find a balance in either extreme and in between. I have rebuilt my entire existence from the pillars of sand upon which it stood before it all crumbled away. And yet, a feeling of complete humility befalls me when I am around that one person, as though nothing I ever say or do will ever, ever be enough to be recognized.

Dearly do I wish to end this on a strong note, to say that I am strong and intelligent person (which I at least know is true). However, any point I wished to make has since been argued through to the point where I don’t even remember if there was a point at all. So I leave you with a quote:

The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself like a lotus of countless petals.
-Kahlil Gibran, “The Prophet”