Do-It-Yourself Photo Session

So I woke up grumpy today. This happens once in a while. I mean, I am a tiny but potent package of emotions, am I not, and grumpiness is a common byproduct of a lot of emotional action, so a grumpy morning makes a lot of sense.

Fortunately, with a long rapid-train ride, a good private lesson and a walk in a park, to act as mood-changing enzymes, I was able to pull myself out of that mucky mood. I find myself, then, in a pleasant state of contentment, though it is a little hot in here...

So about those pictures! First, let me take you to Hakata Eki (station), a hive of activity a 30 walk to the east of Fukuoka's downtown core: Tenjin. Take Edmonton and turn it 90 degrees to the left, then think of downtown as Tenjin and Hakata as Strathcona. Once upon a time, the two halves of the city were separate, and now, though officially amalgamated, they still retain their own distinct identities, Hakata being home to one of Japan's most distinct accents: Hakata-Ben...not that I could pick it out from any other Japanese accent with my skills in the language, but that's beside the point.

Okay, Hakata Eki. So I squeeze myself into this jam-packed building that quivers with the stomping feet, laughter and heartbeats of two thousand Japanese citizens and about 3 gaijin (foreigners). I head to the info desk to figure out how the name of my destination is spelt in Kanji. Some of you might be aware that Japan prides itself on having not one, but three alphabets: hiragana, katakana and kanji. I have heard many people complain about how this fascinating trait makes Japanese very hard to learn. "English is so much easier! Just one alphabet. Crazy Japanese." To this I say two words. Spelling tests. The bane of my grade four self and the cause of one of only two all out screaming moments of my life. Yes, that's right, while Japanese children slave away at learning the meaning, pronunciation and stroke order of Kanji, English kiddies enjoy the immense frustration of learning to read and spell through and rough and though. Take that. By the way, the Kanji dictionary Alex bought me as an unbirthday gift kicks ass.

Okay, Kanji. The kind woman at the info desk helped my learn the Kanji for Haruda Eki (原田駅). I headed to the self serve ticket booths, slipped the ticket into the ticket machine, picked up the hole punched version that emerged from the other side and headed to my platform. The train arrived and left on time, and the folks around me kept a safe, but not inhospitable distance. The train I boarded was a rapid-service train, a fun kind to take as they whiz by platform after platform before stopping right where you want to be. Oh, how excellent. Also, I like to think that at least one person standing on one of the platforms we pass is as silly as me and smiles at the whooshing of passing trains, treno in transito, for those of you who have visited Italy. I love that feeling, especially when you are walking the opposite direction of the train.

Okay, train ride. I arrived at Haruda a little late, but got to the school on time and soon met the little sweetheart I was intended to teach. We chatted a little, read a book and watched a video. And they call this work. After that one hour break, it was back to the real world, and I was driven back the 500m to the station so I could head home. But I didn't go home just then. The sun had finally emerged after a day of heavy rain, and I decided to take advantage of being out of Fukuoka (oh yes, Haruda is about the same distance from downtown Fukuoka as Leduc is from downtown Edmonton). There were green mountains rising that looked like the tops of broccoli to one side and a good sized park with some sort of archaeological point of interest. Two birds are better than one, so I went to the little park. It was deserted but for a resting man next to his bicycle, and an old man and his golden retriever. I basked in the spring-like sun and ate bread that I had bought at a local artisan bakery. I have not experienced better bread than that anywhere on this side of the Pacific. By the way, I think I finally might get the whole Jesus-bread thing. I took one bite of that bread, and there was home, not the images or people, but the feeling of home. Very strange indeed, but I can imagine that the folks who were at the table with their pal Jesus that night had a pretty neat feeling the next time they ate bread. I think eating artisan bread in a park in Japan was a far more religious moment for me than any communion I have ever received. Just a thought. I'm no theologian, and some of my friends may dub me pagan for my love and need of nature (does that explain it Carrie?), but it was something that popped into my head at the time.

So, the park. After I finished my delectable bread, I saw the strangest thing. I had just crumpled up the bakery bag when, just to my left, a magpie alighted upon a bald tree. No, I'm not fond of the Holstein pheasant, and I will openly admit to laughing quietly when info centre guests would ask us what that "stunning black and white bird" was called, but I haven't seen one here before. Again, very strange. But, as with most things that can fly, pigeons excepted, it flew away, and off I went to the train station to catch the express train home.

So, I close. The days have flown by and I am celebrating my 2 month quietly. Everything is falling into place, a little roughly at times, but falling nonetheless, and I am excited for the coming days, weeks and months as I continue to travel, teach and learn. Thanks for the support everyone!

Much love,

Joanne

By the way, I bought a new bike this week. I like it very much, though I would have been blown onto the road in the thunderstorm we had yesterday if it weren't for the girders. Whee! Pictures of the bike to come...