Malifact

I’ve always been a really big Michael Jackson fan and defended him through the child abuse allegations, baby dangling etc. I grew up listening to his music and my Dad was also playing the Thriller and Bad albums in his car. And if a Michael Jackson video was being premiered on TV our whole family would gather round to watch it. So understandably I was upset about his untimely demise. One of my close friends who’s the biggest MJ fan I know told me about an event being organised through Facebook. The idea was that MJ fans would congregate at the O2 Centre in London on the day he was supposed to start his series of concerts there.

I met my friend, her brother, sister and her sister’s friend after work and we headed for the O2. Her Dad even joined us later! The organisers of the event had set up a stage underneath a giant screen outside the centre that showed images from MJ’s life. There was also a wall to write messages and leave flowers etc. Despite the sombre reason for the gathering the atmosphere was really positive. There was a big turnout and apart from various events on the main stage fans gathered together in small groups to sing and dance to MJ songs. A few people broke down or cried during the songs like “Gone Too Soon”, but generally people were upbeat. The only disappointing thing was the sound on the main stage was too low. The MCs didn’t have proper microphones and just these tiny speakers to play the music. One surprise was that Britain’s Got Talent’s finalists Signature http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4sGmnKuIjU turned up and performed on the stage.

The funniest event of the evening occurred towards the start. We were just hanging around outside when suddenly a Michael Jackson look-alike came walking towards us. He was surrounded by a small crowd that continued to grow, as more people saw him and someone was even holding an umbrella over him. Of course everyone knew it wasn’t Michael Jackson, but the resemblance was really scary. As he entered the centre we all continued to follow him inside. I don’t know why and it sounds crazy, but we were all caught up in the moment. MJ headed for the Starbuck’s at the end of the centre (despite there being one near the entrance) while we gave chase with our cameras flashing. We only realised after a few minutes that we’d lost my friend’s brother and called him to let him know what was going on.

Finally, MJ got to Starbuck’s and reluctantly posed for a few photos while we milled around outside. He then sat down with some friends and a woman came out and politely told everyone to leave. Then two police officers arrived! They spoke to MJ for a few minutes before leaving. We only found out later when he took to the stage outside that the man was a professional MJ impersonator. I had thought he was just one of the many fans who had dressed up for the occasion. Anyway, despite being really tired I had a really good time and I’m glad that I went along.

I went to Rome two weeks ago for four days with my Mum. We had a really good time and managed to do and see most of the things we wanted to. The trip was uneventful in a good way (apart from my mobile phone going “missing” from my hotel room). We had no real communication problems, as I had tried to learn Italian pronunciation before we left and had a phrasebook to hand. If I was really stuck I tried to visualise the French or Spanish word and say it as an Italian would say it! I found Italians generally friendlier than people in Barcelona and France. Also, it’s true that coffee, pasta, pizza and ice cream does taste better in Italy.

The first day we arrived pretty late and so we didn’t start sightseeing until the next day. We got up early and climbed up Capitoline Hill (we kind of took the long route) and saw Michelangelo’s Piazza. We also looked around the museums there, which were a bit too much and would have been more enjoyable with an audio guide. Then we went to look at the ruins at the Palatine tagging along with a free tour group and saw the view overlooking the Roman Forum. Finally, we went to the Colosseum, but only got to see the outside as it was closed. Apart from the sightseeing I tried to help a group of Japanese girls who were having problems using the ticket machine.

On the second day we went to Vatican City (my Mum’s main reason for going to Rome) and looked around the Vatican museums, which were really extensive, but very interesting. We also saw the Sistine Chapel and fortunately it wasn’t very crowded so we could take our time appreciating it. Then we went to St Peter’s Basilica, which is supposed to be one of the holiest Christian sites. I must confess I didn’t feel anymore spiritual as I do in any church, but I think it’s because I was too busy looking at the artwork. I also dragged my poor Mum up to the top of the church’s dome (we took the elevator part of the way). I also lent my camera’s battery to an American girl, as hers had run out.

For the final day we went to the Villa Borghese Gardens. It’s actually just a nice park, but after all the sightseeing it was nice to stroll around and relax a bit. We had intended to visit the Galleria Borghese, but there were no tickets available until 5pm that evening. We then rode the bus for the first time (the bus drivers are crazy in Rome) and after lunch went to the Piazza Navona and looked around while trying to avoid people selling stuff. We then went to have ice cream at some place that Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck went to in the film Roman Holiday. As we were approaching the entrance my Mum recalled how surprised she was that Audrey Hepburn is popular in Japan and lo and behold we ran into a group of Japanese tourists!

Although the holiday was great I had without a doubt the worst journey home ever. First, our flight back to London was delayed by nearly an hour. Then when we got on the plane and had to wait over an hour and a half to takeover, as our plane was grounded due to the strikes in France. To top it all off we had a really annoying group of young Americans sitting in the middle of the plane. The leader of the group was a girl my Mum and I christened “Becky”. She spent the whole time talking in a really loud voice so we could all hear about everything from her views on fashion to how she was “more open” as a child. We could tell she was one of these people who had to make everything about her. For example, when a friend of hers admitted she was bullied in high school, Becky had to interrupt and talk about how she was also “bullied” for wearing “really ugly glasses”. The funniest thing was that in her little group all the girls clearly wanted to be her best friend and the guys were drooling over her every word. It probably helped that every time she was talking to a male she would play with a straw suggestively in her mouth.

Not only did we arrive late, but we missed our last train and so had no choice, but to get a coach to another airport closer to where we live and then the bus from there. We had to wait an hour and a half in the coach station with just a homeless woman for company sleeping on the bench next to ours. We finally made it home at 4am in the morning. My grumpy brother had to get out of bed to let us in, though Lil’ Bilbo was delighted to see us and insisted on a quick walk before I could get to bed. It was either that or listen to him crying while I tried to get some sleep.

I had to stop going to French class temporarily, as there weren’t enough people to continue doing the intensive class at my level. When I got back from Rome I got a message to call the French Institute’s course administrator. She told me that I still couldn’t do the intensive class, but there was another evening class running two nights a week about to start. I was a bit annoyed, as we had already had to postpone the class due to lack of numbers and now we couldn’t do it at all. However, I figured it was better than nothing and two of my friends from my old class would also be doing it.

So I went to the first class and it was awful. Firstly, there were about sixteen students there. It was so packed two people had to sit at the corners of the tables. Secondly, I didn’t like the teacher. My previous teacher had been lovely, but this guy was the stereotypical snooty French teacher. The only thing missing was the scarf around his neck! Also, he had the same first name as me (same spelling also). To top it all off the class was boring. We spent half of it going around saying the French authors we knew and what type of literature they wrote. The other half was naming five problems in society. When I think something is a waste of my time (for e.g. the infamous JET conferences) I just shut down and try and do something productive. I did that for most of the lesson. Also, when we were discussing problems in UK society the teacher encouraged the students to make generalisations about the UK (most of my classmates were not British). I had to bite my tongue when he started going on about how the Japanese were “systématique”.

So I decided to quit the class and I e-mailed the courses administrator to ask if anything else was available. I didn’t want to slag off the class or teacher and so I just said the class was “not what I expected”. In the end I ended up having to call her and she wanted to know why I wanted to change and I was forced to tell her. I tried not to slag off my namesake too much though. It all worked out okay in the end. I’m now doing a three-hour class on Saturdays. It’s a bit of a pain to have class on Saturdays, but the teacher is pretty good and best of all there’s only six of us in the class. I ran into my namesake on Saturday and he blanked me and strolled off with his nose in the air!

One of my colleagues went to Japan on holiday and brought us back some treats, including some limited edition KitKat. They’re described as “University Sweet Potato Flavour”. Apparently KitKats are often given to Japanese children studying for exams, because the name resembles the Japanese phrase “きっと勝つ” (you will succeed). Also, sweet potato was a popular dish in university towns.



She also gave us a packet of まんじゅう (Japanese bean-jam buns). The picture on the front shows Barack Obama and the mayor of a city called Obama in Fukui Prefecture. This city had been supporting Obama throughout his election campaign and one of the things they did was start producing this variety of buns.



The colour of the buns is not very politically correct, but they are pretty tasty!

I went to France for five days after Christmas, as a friend I had met while studying at Yamasa invited me to visit him. I had to take a plane from London Stansted to Nantes in the northwest of France. My friend came to meet me at the airport along with his brother (who is actually studying Korean) and a friend of his. We then drove for about two hours to the town my friend is from which is called Laval. It’s a nice town with lots of little shops and cafés and even a castle and a cathedral. It’s a nice place to visit and stroll around, but I can imagine it would be a bit dull to grow up there, as the nearest big city is pretty far away.

I spent the next two days and the end of my trip with my friend’s family. They were really nice and made me feel very welcome. Apart from my friend’s brother who I had already met, he has a sister about fifteen years old and a younger brother about twelve. I was expecting his sister to be a bit of a brat from his description, but she was really sweet. Her and the younger brother were pretty shy around me. My friend’s mother was very friendly and I really enjoyed chatting with her. She loves the British TV shows “Doctor Who” and “Torchwood” and is a bit of a computer geek. His father was a bit stern, but still a nice guy. I didn’t see him so much because he was working and also got sick while I was there.

My friend had told me previously that we would probably have a party with some of his friends for New Year’s Eve. However, after I arrived he announced that we would be going to Paris instead with his brother and the friend who I had already met. When his father found out about this he was not happy and seemed reluctant to let us use the family car. He even asked me if I was okay about going. I said I didn’t mind, but to be honest I wasn’t keen on the idea. I had little choice though, but to go along with the plan. In the end we didn’t leave for Paris until 9:30 in the evening and it took us over four hours to get there. I was looking forward to going to bed and getting up fairly early the next day to do some sightseeing.

However, my companions had other ideas. First of all when we arrived I couldn’t believe my friend had referred to his brother’s place as an “apartment”. It was more like a box room with a kitchen area and a bathroom (there were four of us). Also, my plans to go straight to bed were thwarted, as the others wanted to stay up and drink, smoke etc. I didn’t fall asleep until about 4:30. None the less I woke up before lunch and I was determined not to waste the day. So while the others stayed in bed I went exploring the local area on my own. Later on when I returned the others finally surfaced and we went to the Eiffel Tower. I had wanted to skip the touristy things, but again I went along with the majority decision.

That night I assumed we would be going to a bar or something to celebrate the New Year. My friend had been very vague about our actual plans. In the end our “plan” was just to go to the Champs-Élysées to meet some people they knew. When we arrived I wasn’t surprised by how crowded it was, but by the number of police in full riot gear and the people who would randomly let off fireworks on the street. I expected there to be a big fireworks display like in London. However, instead the Eiffel Tower was just lip up. Also there was some kind of minor firework display, although that might have just been fireworks let off by people on the street.

Then just before midnight I got separated from the others in the crowd. By the time I got my bearings I had lost sight of them. I tried looking around and calling my friend and his brother’s mobiles, but I got no answer. I finally got hold of them after over an hour and my friend’s brother gave me vague directions of where to meet them. I tried following the directions the best I could, but I had no idea of where I was. Also, after that I couldn’t get hold of my friend or his brother again on their mobiles. I couldn’t even return to the apartment, as the trains weren’t running to the nearest station and I couldn’t get in anyway without a key.

Fortunately everything ended up okay in the end. I met two groups of French people around my age who were very kind and insisted I stay with them when I explained my situation. It turned out I’d need to get a taxi to where the others were and they advised me that my chances of getting one were slim. I was enjoying chatting to these people anyway, despite being strangers and the cold. We mostly spoke in French, but one guy who was really drunk kept on saying to me in English randomly “Where is your friend?!”. I got the impression that they felt he had let me down. Anyway, the trains started running again and so I could finally return to the apartment. When I arrived the others were already there sleeping. By that point I was just delighted to get to bed.

In conclusion, my trip to France was definitely an experience. Apart from meeting my friend’s family the best part of the trip was using the French I had learnt. I was able to speak to my friend’s family and friends in French nearly all the time. It was also fun when I went exploring on my own to speak to people in cafés and shops. However, if I ever in that situation again I’ll make sure I have my own place to stay, or at least my own key!

I had my work Christmas party two Fridays ago. I had been looking forward to it, as we were attending a murder mystery evening. I'm the sort of person who as a child used to watch murder mysteries with their parents and tried to work out who the killer was. Also, Christmas parties are a good chance to see another side to your colleagues. Well, sometimes you found out stuff you'd rather not know!

Well, the evening was a bit of a letdown. The murder mystery turned out not to be a serious thing, but a comedy event. Basically the owner of this department store had been murdered and we had to work out which of the staff did it. The cast were all stereotypes of course; the office tart, the camp guy etc. Cue lots of bawdey jokes and innuendo. After an introduction in the bar type area we went to have dinner, which was interrupted at regular intervals by the cast who gave us updates on the murder investigation. Like we really cared.

The evening as a whole was pretty average. It didn't help that I was stuck at a table with people I didn't know so well. The food was also awful. We had a full course meal and the main was a roast dinner. Except it was like one of those microwave roast dinners that taste like eating toilet paper. The highlight was two of my colleagues got roped into helping out with the murder mystery. The camp Australian business development manager had to play a security guard and one of the eccentric staff from our clinical unit had to play a drug-dealing nurse.

Well, I spent the next day in bed with what I suspect was food poisoning. I couldn't even keep water down I felt so bad. I can't prove it, but I put the blame firmly on the seafood starter I had the night before. Oh well, at least I didn't pay for it!

When I was in high school I had a "friend" who used to make fun of me for "speaking posh". I remember another friend advised me to try and not speak so posh, because then I wouldn't draw attention to myself! Even though like any teenager I could be self-conscious I ignored both of them. Today I went with another mate to visit a friend we used to work with. We had lunch in a café converted from an old railway carriage and looked around the local markets. We had a good time though it was really cold. It didn't help that the door from the café was open the whole time. The area where I met my friend is called Deptford and is in south London. Before we met up my friend warned me it wasn't the "most glamorous of areas". When we arrived and exited the train station, myself and my other friend found we were on the high street. Three kids about half our size walked past us. They didn't give us a second look until I started speaking to my friend. Then they stopped and started staring us down. They kept looking at us as they kept walking up the street. When my friend arrived and we told her what happened she said jokingly, "Next time you come here to see me try speaking more chavey!"

I started my new French class yesterday. I am now officially an intermediate learner of French. Three other people from my previous class have continued also. Unfortunately, my mate from South African decided not to continue. She said she wanted to take a break from studying French and resume in January. However, there is some good news. Firstly, our previous teacher is teaching us again. I get on really well with her and she’s probably the best teacher I’ve had so far. Even better this guy who really got on my nerves decided not to continue.

So there are three new people in the class. One of them is a Russian woman who works for a company that deals in skincare/beauty products. She seems a bit sullen, although her French pronunciation is very good. There’s also a British woman who seems quite nervous and had to ask our teacher to explain in English what the homework was. Finally, there’s an Australian guy. He actually lived in France and seems confident speaking. However, he has a potentially annoying habit of interrupting and speaking over people. We’ll see what happens if he tries that with me!

The other day I went to meet one of the managers for ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) in a local college. We had spoken on the phone when I had called enquiring about part-time work and he had invited me to come and meet him for an “informal chat” and tour of the college. The college is in Hayes a rough part of London where some of my friends from school still live. To get to the college I had no choice but to take a bus called the 140, which is like a tour of the dodgiest areas in North West London. I usually have my headphones in for the whole journey and try to zone out.

The meeting with this manager went very well and he seemed very keen for me to work for him in some capacity. However, the interesting incident occurred while I was waiting in reception for him to come and meet me. It turned out that a group of young offenders had been transported to the college that day to do some classes. However, two of them had done a bunk and could not be located in the building. I knew about this because while waiting in the reception the security guards and receptionists openly discussed these transpiring events in front of me. What really surprised me was no one was panicking or seemed in any rush to locate these ruffians. As one woman commented,
“Well, they can’t get back in, because the doors are all locked!”

I went to the Japan Centre in central London the other day for the first time. I popped in to buy some sauce, as I had decided to cook yakisoba for my family for dinner. I felt very “懐かしい” walking around the centre. It has a supermarket, a nice restaurant, a travel agency and a book shop. The supermarket prices were not as bad as I thought and it was interesting to see some familiar products. The book shop in particular was really cool; I was especially impressed by the Japanese study books they had. It was also really nice to speak in Japanese in a non-interview situation. It made me remember how much I enjoyed doing simple stuff in Japan like shopping, as it was like an adventure in the early days.

I started the next level in my French class the other day. We had been worried there wouldn’t be enough people to continue the class, but in fact it’s full thanks to some newbies. My new classmates include a girl training to be a nurse, a guy who works for Apple and a rather elderly woman. I haven’t taken a dislike to anyone yet, but it’s bound to happen! Our new teacher is a middle-aged guy. He’s okay though very much a traditional French teacher in the way he conducts the class. One of my friends isn’t very keen on him, but I guess I’m used to his style after studying in Japan. One thing I’m pleased about is the pace is much faster this time. Yesterday we did two lessons from the textbook in one class. Also, our new teacher is very strict about pronunciation. If things continue this way I’ll be happy.

I had my first French class yesterday. There are five other people in the class apart from me; all female. Everyone seems pretty nice apart from one girl who is from Bulgaria. I had to do pair work with her and she was rather sullen and even a bit stand-offish. Looks like I have an early candidate for that one person I have to dislike! Our teacher seems pretty good and she said she will try and only speak in French as much as possible. This week we will mostly be doing review. However, I still feel the content is a bit easy. I spoke to my teacher after class and she suggested I try going to the next level’s class and see how I get on. Unfortunately, they do not have such a class for the three times a week programme I have signed up for and the other class after that would be much too difficult for me. So my plan is to make the most of the class I’m in and try and dominate proceedings. May as well get my money’s worth!

One of the things I wanted to do when I came back to England was try and learn a new language. Initially I wanted to learn German, but I decided instead to try and learn French again. Firstly, I studied French at school and though I hadn’t used it for nearly 13 years at least I wouldn’t be starting from zero. Also, I have some French friends now so I would have someone to communicate with in the language. Finally, despite my joking I do like French culture. So after consulting a friend I decided to do an evening class at the French Institute in London. The courses there are very expensive, but they are endorsed by the French government and they have an express course that takes place three evenings a week.

However, before I could be accepted for a place I had to take a written and speaking test in French. I went to take the test today losing my umbrella on the train in the process. Beforehand I was confident I would do okay in the speaking test, but probably do pretty awful in the written test. It turned out to be the opposite. I managed to complete most of the written test and the guy who registered me commented that I had done pretty good in one of the most difficult sections. However, the speaking test was pretty horrendous. As soon as the lady started speaking to me I freaked out. I couldn’t answer most of her questions and she didn’t give me any hints. I even said something in Japanese at one point by accident! In the end I managed to get it together and made an attempt at conversation.

After the tests I spoke to the same lady in English to discuss the course I would take. In the end she said not only would I be accepted for a place, but I wouldn’t have to start in the lower class as I had feared. I was very relieved and when I spoke to the guy who registered me again he reassured me that if I stuck with it I could make real progress. Well, I’ve paid the money now so I’m definitely going to take it seriously. Anyway, after that rather traumatic episode I had a nice dinner with three friends who I first met when I was studying for the Japanese Proficiency Test last year. I had a bit of a bad day yesterday, but I felt a lot better after hanging out with them.

I haven’t updated my blog in a while, so I thought I’d write about something funny that happened recently. This term at the language institute I’ve become friends with a French guy in my class. He recently had a party at his flat for people in our class and some friends from his class last term. The party was a lot of fun; we chatted, played video games and everyone brought food from their country. I made an Indian style curry and everyone seemed to like it. In fact, everyone made delicious stuff, though the least said about the host’s contribution (melon with sandwich ham on cocktail sticks) the better.

The funny incident was when we all went outside to do some sparklers. We were standing at the front of the building and this woman pulled up in her car and got out with her husband and small child. It turned out she was one of French Guy’s neighbours and she started chatting to us. At first the conversation was pretty normal, though it was obvious we weren’t speaking to the most educated or classy of people. For example, at one point she said she would be worried about her 20 year old daughter dating a foreign man, because they are so “big” and her daughter’s body might break! May I add she was saying all this in front of two Japanese people (one of whom was one of our teachers) who were also at the party. You can always spot these people, as they even speak to other Japanese who are strangers in plain language not just foreigners.

Then she started asking where we were from. Well, I say ask but really she would say where she thought we were from and then we would confirm her guess or correct her. Then she came to me and she stared at me long and hard and said it was very difficult to tell. Finally, she asked me if I was from… Iraq! Now I really enjoy fucking with people in this type of situation. Only the other week I had enjoyed winding up a drunken Japanese woman who thought I was from India and asked me if all Indian people were really good at Maths. However, because our teacher was there I didn’t want to be evil and so I just bit my tongue and corrected her. Oh well, at least she didn’t say my colour was different!

I’ve been sick since Wednesday. It started on Tuesday evening when I suddenly developed a sore throat. I thought it was just hay fever, but when I woke up on Wednesday morning my glands were hurting and I felt like shit. So I didn’t go to classes at all that day (fortunately it was just review). It was really bad timing, as we had half-term exams on Thursday. Even though I was still sick I struggled in and took the exam and then went straight home. Of course I didn’t do my best, but I was hoping I did good enough. On Friday we got the results and it wasn’t as bad as I thought, though I totally messed up this one section which I hadn’t studied for at all (our tutor had told everyone to study it on WEDNESDAY!). Apart from that I realise I need to concentrate now on improving my skills in summarising what I hear and read in Japanese. My writing skills still need a lot of work. On a lighter note I was surprised to get a birthday card from all of my teachers, including those who taught me last term. Some of them wrote some funny stuff in the card; especially one teacher who I like referred to me as 腹黒い (crafty). I don’t know what she means!

When I was a JET I hardly ever used to watch Japanese TV. The reason was I didn't usually have time in the evenings, as I either had karate practice, Japanese class, or my English conversation class. However, since I've been back in Japan I've been trying to watch more TV. One of my friends at the language institute often recommends dramas for me to watch. One I'm watching right now is really good. It's called "Last Friends".

http://wiki.d-addicts.com/Last_Friends

The storyline is rather dark (each of the characters is fucked up in their own way) and there are some scenes that are very disturbing. However, the drama is ultimately about how important friendship is and the acting is really good. I do find it funny though that the female character who is questioning her sexuality is such a stereotype; motorbike racer, short hair, talks manly etc. Also the theme song "Prisoner of Love" by Utada Hikaru is so cheesy. All that aside I do recommend watching it if you have time.

Since I’ve come back to Japan a lot of Japanese people have asked me if I’m Indian when they first meet me. I’ve been surprised why all of a sudden I am taken for being Indian. Of course my Dad is from India and I generally take it as a complement, as I’ve heard that Japanese people have positive stereotypes about Indians. To be honest I’ve used this to my advantage in the past when someone has been trying to use me as a free English lesson or is generally annoying me. They tend to lose interest if I say I’m Indian etc. However, today I discovered my plan is not without its faults.

My doorbell rang and I opened the door and there were two Japanese men standing there; one young and the other middle-aged. I guessed straight away from their dress and the leaflets they were holding that they were Jehovah’s Witnesses. I don’t have anything against Jehovah’s Witnesses by the way, but I’m not interested in converting or anything. The older man started speaking to me in English and so I told him that I don’t understand English very well. He also tried showing me a page in the leaflet in English and again I said I didn’t understand. After that the conversation went kind of like this:

Older Man: (Turning to a map in the leaflet and points to Japan) We are in Japan. Where are you from?
Me: I am from India.
Older Man: India? So you speak… Hindi? (shows me another page written in Hindi).
Me: Actually the language in the area I’m from is not Hindi.
Older Man: Oh, really? What is it?
Me: Bengali… (realising now where this is going).

To my horror and to the two men’s delight there was a page in Bengali as well! So I pretended to read it and then said that I was Hindu and that finally put an end to their endeavours. I have to say I’m impressed. The Jehovah’s Witnesses are prepared for all eventualities!

My bicycle has been stolen. I parked it just outside my flat last night, but this morning it was gone. I had to walk to school and so I was late by about five to ten minutes. I explained the situation to my teacher and told my classmates about it later. Many of them were convinced that someone who lives in my building had taken my bike by accident; mistaking it for their own. I don’t share their optimism and at this point my bike has not been returned. I searched both bicycle parking areas at school, but couldn't find it. I’ve had my bike stolen in Japan before (when I left it in the train station where I used to live). However, I can’t believe someone would have the audacity to steal it from just outside my front door. It even has a registration seal on it. At times like this I have to remind myself I’ll be going back to the land of chavs and happy slappers at the end of June.

I started back at school today after the spring holiday. I’ve been moved up to C class for this term. Two of my previous classmates are in the same class as me and the others also moved up but are in class D. It’s only the first day, but I think I will enjoy studying in this new environment. My new classmates generally seem much quieter and more serious, but also pretty friendly. Our form tutor is actually one of the teachers who interviewed me when I first started at the school. She’s very friendly and energetic and I was pleased to see her again. I also met one of our other teachers and she also seems pretty good. However, my friend warned me that she’s also very strict. The only disappointing thing is we received a list of the elective classes for this term and none of them really appeal to me. Overall though I’m looking forward to this term and think I can make significant progress in my Japanese.

Last weekend I went back to Osaka yet again. This time I was visiting for a couple of reasons. Firstly, on Saturday I went to say goodbye to my friend Kendo Guy who was going back to Australia that day. He was staying with his host family who were pleased to see me again, especially his host father who had yet again drunk too much alcohol the night before. I also met grandmother for the first time very briefly who doesn’t like foreigners and was hit by a car not too long ago. On Sunday I met up with my friend Miss Lemon who was visiting Japan for just over a week. I had lunch with her and homodachi and she was on good form as always. The main event of the weekend though was I attended the retirement party for one of the teachers from my old school. This teacher was really kind to me during the three years I worked there and I’m really fond of him. The party was held at the Itami City Hotel; a regular venue for school events and pretty nice.

The party was rather enjoyable, as there was a really good turnout of past and present teachers and I got to chat to some people I hadn’t seen for a while. I was especially pleased to see a young home economics teacher I was friendly with and a Japanese language teacher who had helped me out a few times. I also got to meet the retiree teacher’s wife for the first time albeit briefly. Another attendee of the party was the school caretaker the first year I was there. He was very friendly to me when I first arrived and he can speak some English. However, he’s also a dirty old man who loves his holidays in Thailand to do “volunteer work”. Even good old Tissue Sensei called him a pervert at one point. He was in a good mood even before having a couple of drinks and I spent most of the time pretending not to understand what he was saying or being mildly sarcastic. The food was quite nice, but I didn’t get to eat as much as I wanted as I was too busy chatting to people.

The one person I was not pleased to see is the young P.E. teacher who I wrote about in the March 2007 journal entry “Final Sports Day Part 2”. He stayed away from me most of the evening, but ended up getting really drunk by the end of the party. While I was talking to another teacher he came up to us and tried to speak to me in a really loud annoying voice in English. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but tried to be civil though he eventually gave up. He continued to be obnoxious until we had to leave the venue. In particular, he was acting like a right yobbo while the hotel staff were taking everyone’s photo at the end. I’m really surprised that everyone tolerated his behaviour and no one had words with him. He’s one of the youngest teachers at school and in fact is not even a proper teacher yet, as he hasn’t passed the prefectural teacher’s exam. One thing that was amusing though is I heard that some of the students have been teasing him by saying he looks like me!