Ohayo!

Ah, time -- and jet lag -- is trampling over my hopes of doing a daily blog post! Let's see if I can catch up.

Tuesday, after watching the sumo meet (and Dawson's Creek, during the foreign television hour) we headed to the nearest "mall" -- similar to a multi-level grocery store and a department store combined. I was in search of cute Japanese fabric as well as the finest items the 100 yen store could provide me, including, I hoped, some fresh socks and undies. I was successful on all accounts, buying some gifts for others and two pairs of underwear (pickins' were limited, as I needed something that would cover my chubby, non-Japanese butt). I put on the first pair Tuesday night, and they were comfy, in a boy shorts sort of way. Wednesday's pair was a whole 'nother story. The I was just about rip the tag off the pale blue cotton undies when I noticed the tag had what looked like a large oversized raindrop on it, with the phrase "Irretention Shorts" on it. Below that, in smaller print was a French phrase. Now, I'm no Francophone, but "culotte d'incontinence" reads the same in pretty much any language, I think. I touched the crotch and it gave a plasticy crackle. I'd bought myself obaasan underwear!

Also Tuesday, when I wasn't busying myself buying grandma underwear, I was taking part in "American Conversation Hour" with some adult students of Mike's. The night's students were Tamako, Kobayashi and the Yamadas, who owned the preschool where we met and who made us dinner. The meal was composed of these savory, egg-and-batter concoctions with veggies and fish cake that Colleen said roughly translated as "as you like it," udon noodles with basically the same flavoring, sushi with mayonaise (which is actually quite delicious -- mayo is a big condiment here, after soy sauce) and, for dessert, a yummy strawberry custard-like dish made from tofu. Not a bad dinner, although I an unintentional bite of tuna and the taste of bonito powder confirmed for me that I am not meant to be a fish-eater. Tamako, the preschool's cook, said she was shy, but was probably the biggest talker of the group and spoke the most English, showing us cell phone photos of some of the crafts she's made, and teaching us how to say "oishiso,""it looks delicious." After some beeru, Mr. Yamada, already proving himself to be a bit of a character, got even more animated, getting up from the floor to teach us some puns (the particulars of which escape me right now, oops).

Jet lag appeared to catch up with me Wednesday, as I woke up just as the sky was beginning to grow light, the birds' chirping not yet quieted by the white noise of traffic. It was just before 5 a.m., and there was no way I was going back to sleep. So I went on a walk, up the hill behind their apartment, past a small graveyard and near the stadium that hosted a sports festival last year, and then down around the residential area to Ichinomiya's small commercial area. Colleen and Mike are the only foreigners in this side of town, so my walking attracted some attention, which made me feel shy, particularly since I was so tired that I couldn't remember how to say "good morning!" (which, duh, is "Ohayo!, pronounced the same as our dear Buckeye State).

Just as common as the rice patties out here are small shrines tucked into the landscape, befitting for a town whose name translates as "first shrine." Many of the statues inside them are wearing fabric bibs (I'm not sure why, I keep forgetting to ask) and have food placed out in front. The plants are beginning to bloom here, although the trees -- with the exception of the sakura, or cherry blossom, which peaked in April -- have yet to flower, a sight Mike and Colleen say is particularly lovely.

Late Wednesday morning, our luggage arrived and I was able to finally take a shower. The bathroom here is separated into two rooms, the toilet in one and the shower/tub in another. The warmlet, which I mentioned before, is proving to be a favorite of mine, and applicance I've found nearly everwhere. The seat heats up when you sit down, which in my opinion, is genius. The model Colleen and Mike have in their compact bathroom actually has the sink tied into the toilet tank, so when you flush (turning the knob a different direction, depending on whether it's a "big flush" or a little one), a faucet allows you to use fresh water from the tank. Pretty neat. But back to the shower.

The room housing the shower is probably sixteen square feet or so and includes a small sink, a narrow but deep recessed metal tub, a tiled floor with a drain and a showerhead hanging on the wall, on the edge of the tub. The idea is that a tall person can stand in the metal tub to shower, while a shorter person can just shower without getting inside of it, Colleen explained to Kyle and me. The shower was great -- perfect pressure, warm -- it was hard to get out. If I had one like it in Columbus, my hygeine might improve by leaps and bounds!

After we were dressed and ready, Mike took us to Joyfull, a sit-down restaurant with "American"-style food as well as the big draw, a soup and drink bar. On the menu were foods such as spaghetti with bacon strips and fried egg, but I opted for something a bit more tame: a salad with tofu and what was basically scrambled eggs with soy sauce and other flavorings. Mike told us that Joyfull has a bad reputation as being a place where the microwave is the main cooking tool, and while Kyle's chicken skewer lent creedence to that belief, the delicious fried root dish Mike ordered for us proved the microwave isn't the only weapon in the restaurant's arsenal. While I opted out of the soup bar, I was thrilled by the drink bar, which gave me a chance to check out some of the sodas I'd been curious about. First up was a melon drink, which despite its unholy green glow, was actually not too strong-tasting, reminding me of Midori liquer. An orange soda was a bit of a letdown, with a pretty weak taste, but White Water proved to be my favorite. Living up to its name the drink was a milky white, but tasted like cream soda. Yum.

Next up was a trip to Monkey Park, in a nearby town. After paying the entrance and a pit stop at the park restroom ("pit stop" being fairly literal, as this was my first time using the traditional, pit-style toilet) we climbed up a steep trail to where we would encounter the monkeys. While the monkeys are wild, they congregate in one particular place on the hill, because an area for them to play on ropes, spinning wheels and the such has been built, and more importantly, there is an enclosed place for visitors to feed them. We saw a rare golden monkey hanging out on a rooftop as well as, from afar, a tiny baby monkey, which was pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.

After a few "oh, shit!" moments involving the monkeys running precariously close to us, we entered what Tamako and Kobayashi had termed the "human zoo," (the people are inside the cage, and the monkeys are on the outside). I bought a can of monkey food for 100 yen and then dropped the pellets in a small trough accessible to the monkeys through the fencing. A particularly aggressive female monkey ate most of the food -- I understood why none of her fellow monkeys tangled with her when I ended up on the receiving end of her aggression; I made the mistake of making prolonged eye contact with her, and she screamed and threw herself against the cage, making me happy I'd already made a trip to the bathroom.

After leaving Monkey Park, we headed to the Yamadas' preschool -- a miscommunication involving me wanting to take photographs at dinner the night before had led to an invitation to take pictures the next day -- and Mike, at six-foot-something, was clearly a crowd-pleaser, with the children using him as a jungle gym, lining up to climb on him. Shortly after we arrived, Tamako greeted us with a surprise: small cookies she made to look like each of us. It was an incredibly touching and sweet surprise.

Later in the evening, we headed to the home of Osaki, a woman who has been a mentor and friend to Colleen since her arrival. Her home was gorgeous, and unsurprisingly so -- the same company who built the castle we'd visited also built her house -- and was filled with cozy nooks behind sliding doors, as well as art and crafts from her travels around the world. Dinner was amazing. Osaki had set aside vegetarian versions of the meal for me, which was a tremendous kindness -- and included miso with lightly fried tofu, tempura, edamame, pickled onions, and for everyone else, roasted salmon. After dinner, Mike, Kyle and I watched television -- a special about the Mall of America, which appeared to have been taped somewhere in the late 1990s/early 2000s, while Osaki and Colleen readied themselves to host a traditional tea ceremony.

The ceremony was held in a room set aside especially for that purpose, and Osaki showed me the proper way to enter, crawling and bowing before contemplating a scroll and vase of flowers and finally coming to rest on a mat. The ceremony is hard to describe, as each move required remarkable precision, but basically Kyle, Mike and I sat on the floor while Osaki took Colleen (and, at times, us) through the paces, giving us sweets, balls of sticky rice filled with red bean paste and wrapped in leaves, before we drank the tea, green tea Colleen made by whipping the tea powder with hot water using a bamboo whisk. Despite the caffeinated tea, Kyle and I were dragging by the end and we headed home, on our way to sweet, sweet sleep.

In keeping with the tradition of being a step behind in writing this thing, the update on Thursday's activities will come later. ;)