And this is why I have not blogged in awhile.
There is not too much to be said. At least, my internal monologue of how crazy things are has had a significant decrease. That being said, I am not too sure what it is I think about considering most conversations I have take place in slow motion allowing for at least 45 seconds of daydream time between stanzas of a so-called conversation.
Green scenery has returned to Ikeda, so my Monday morning drive to Kawasaki Elementary School has once again become one of the highlights of my life. I teach the entire school at Kawasaki. All 9 students, grades 2-6. And that is normal.
This Monday I skipped out on the Hakuchi Community monthly Awa Dance practice. But I did run into a woman I meet the last time I was there. And she made me go to her car with her where she had gifts for me and the friends I brought to the last one I attended. That was normal too.
Wednesday's are some of my favorite days. On Wednesday, Ashely and I go to Ikeda gym where we share equipment with Japanese people who do not wipe it down after they use it. And that is also normal.
Wednesday's are good because I am guaranteed to have at least an hour and a half of native English conversation. On Monday's or Tuesday's it is possible that I will climb into bed and realize I did not have one solid conversation where both parties really understood what was being said.
On any normal Thursday, I might drive pass a pilgrim who is walking the 88 temple route on Shikoku. I might look out a window while I am teaching a class at Sano or Umaji Elementary and see there bamboo walking stick hit the ground in the same rhythm as their feet.
This last Friday was normal when I paid roughly $40 for a work drinking party. It was normal to find myself about an hour into a conversation with a man, at least twice my age, whose name I had completely forgotten, though he repeated it more than once. When he told me he would not vote for Hilary Clinton because he would not trust a woman to run a country I was not surprised. And when we later laughed and his hand happened to brush across my thigh (though this was not exactly normal) I was not startled.
And that Saturday night it seemed normal enough to want to stay in to watch The Hills on the internet. But when Brad convinced me that we should walk up to the highway to hitch a 15 minute ride into the city I was not surprised when three Japanese girls in their early 20's, armed with many cigarettes were the first ones to stop.
And it was not unexpected that this then happened till about 5 a.m.
And waking up with a sore back when I deserve my few hours sleep on an actual bed as opposed to some futon on the floor has unfortunately also become a normal part of life.
Spending a Sunday at a mall to look at shirts like this
is a normal that I do not know how I lived without.
When I find a pair of shoes that fit my feet or understand the interaction that involves a man telling me how much I will need to pay for my glasses and what day of the week they will be ready, things are not normal.