Well, I forged a letter from Bush to Prime Minister Koizumi, complete with southern vernacular speech rhetoric, stutters and spelling errors, officially giving Texas to Japan, but it must not have worked since some government officials visited me the other day. Talk about touchy. Someone got to tell them to lay off the coke or something.

So I went to the Ise Shrines and Gifu castle over break. The Ise shrines are supposed to be like the Mecca of Shinto, so they were pretty sweet. And Gifu castle was built on a big hill. I got kicked out for yelling “bonsai” too much and pretending I was a drunk samurai. They should put up a sign or something if they don’t want you to do that. It’s a freaking castle, what the hell else are you supposed to do?

My friends here are all debating whether they’ll stay another year, including me. I’m pretty sure I’ll stick around, but most of them are calling quits. If it weren’t for a certain teacher in my department, who continually invades my workspace and gives me projects centered around his neurotic learning of the English language, I would happily stay.

Not only my foreign friends are leaving, but many Japanese are leaving. The population here is actually decreasing. A similar trend is happening in America, with the expatriate thing, but they’re being replaced by lots of immigrants, of course. The most intelligent people are leaving, say the stats. It reminds me of Tolkien—the Elves are leaving.

The students continue to win me over. The other day two girls came to talk to me in the English department for like an hour. Then one of them wrote me a letter thanking me for my time, with no grammar or spelling errors. It was incredible. And she’s a first year student.

It’s taken me a long time to get them to speak to me freely. I’ve had to continually praise them and smile and nod when they actually attempt speaking for the last five months, and they are still scared about speaking and even listening. I’ve got enough Japanese so that I can sometimes translate difficult words and phrases, but there’s still times where they just smile and shake their heads. The most precious ones are the students that get really excited about something, making hesitation noises and hand gestures, but are forced to resist the anticipation and communicate at the speed of second language.

I had a long lunch with one of the Canadian ALT’s that comes on Fridays. He’s been at my school a long time and we talked a lot about how to deal with the old, controlling, curmudgeon teacher. He suggested that I get my recontracting papers signed, and then stand up to him. While he can get other teachers transferred for refusing his delegations, it is almost impossible to get me to leave. And he knows that after his excommunication of my predecessor.

It’s really amazing what culture shock does to people, especially under the influence of alcohol. At our weekly izakaiya (traditional Japanese family restaurant) last night, I refused the last 5 or so sake shots, as I don’t enjoy hangovers. But as to culture shock, Mr. E, for example, asked me permission to have one of my Japanese friends--he phrased it somewhat less elegantly (I gave my permission, knowing he had no chance), tried to seduce one of our mutual Japanese friends unsuccessfully, and after being refused, repeatedly stood during the rest of the evening and offered to show what—in his exact words—“would be missing out on.” I had a good time, but I do miss, to a certain extent, dignity and grace, but not yet enough.