Finally, some photos!
The story thus far...
My window. I was screwing around with my camera and thought it wasn't working, so I put it down and went to the window--this is what happened. Go figure.
The view from the window across the hall from me, looking out on to northern Okazaki.
My roommate, Sarah. She's a bit camera shy so this is the only picture I have of her thus far.
The infamous CD. This copy is a bit too small to see, but the Japanese sleeve is an interesting amalgam of attempted pronunciations for towns in Illinois.
And, as always, you can see the rest of my photos at my photobucket account (there's also a link on the right sidebar).
But yeah, it's not too bad. Last night for comfort food I hit up Kitsutsuki (the campus cafe, which is technically owned by Yamasa but really operated by locals) and had pancakes and milk. It was absolutely heavenly to have real, American food. It's amazing the difference my diet makes in my mood.
It's silly, but looking back I realize almost every entry has mentioned what I ate that day. I guess that it's the most tangible adaptaion I've had to make. Everything else is more abstract--the politeness, the stares, the language is far too hard to explain to somebody who doesn't already have some experience with it. If I say "keigo" or realte something funny that happened in class, chances are--no offense--nobody, unless they speak Japanese or understand the bizarre sense of humor that permeates the culture, is probably going to get it.
But the food change is something I know people will understand. It's odd and honestly kind of stressful to not be able to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It's also becoming increasingly irritating that I can't make my own food, since I don't have a kitchen. To quote Sampath, "I've been here a week and I'm already sick of soba" (soba = buckwheat noodles, which are in literally almost EVERYTHING).
Though, on the up side, I have gotten immeasurably better at ping-pong (which here is not called ping-pong; in Japanese, pin pon is actually the sound of a doorbell. The Japanese name is takkyuu, which literally means "table ball".) It seems to be a class obsession. Out of our six-person class, five of us play with some regularity on the table in the common room--JK and Jin play every break, Chu and Daniel once or twice a day, and I hop in whenever there isn't a dominoes game going.
Right now the big concern is what the Hell I'm doing this weekend--there's the Gion festival in Kyoto but I don't know how much thatll run me to get up there (too much, undoubtedly, as my 18 kippu doesn't kick in for another week). Having just checked the timetables, I can officially say it's over 3,000 yen for the tickets there, meaning my entire Saturday budget would be blown on train fare. Which is no good. So maybe I can get to Gamagori (beach resort town) on bike and save the cash. Hm. Or, of course, there's always just Okazaki castle...
For now I'm thinking a nap is in order.
My window. I was screwing around with my camera and thought it wasn't working, so I put it down and went to the window--this is what happened. Go figure.The view from the window across the hall from me, looking out on to northern Okazaki.
My roommate, Sarah. She's a bit camera shy so this is the only picture I have of her thus far.
The infamous CD. This copy is a bit too small to see, but the Japanese sleeve is an interesting amalgam of attempted pronunciations for towns in Illinois.
And, as always, you can see the rest of my photos at my photobucket account (there's also a link on the right sidebar).
But yeah, it's not too bad. Last night for comfort food I hit up Kitsutsuki (the campus cafe, which is technically owned by Yamasa but really operated by locals) and had pancakes and milk. It was absolutely heavenly to have real, American food. It's amazing the difference my diet makes in my mood.
It's silly, but looking back I realize almost every entry has mentioned what I ate that day. I guess that it's the most tangible adaptaion I've had to make. Everything else is more abstract--the politeness, the stares, the language is far too hard to explain to somebody who doesn't already have some experience with it. If I say "keigo" or realte something funny that happened in class, chances are--no offense--nobody, unless they speak Japanese or understand the bizarre sense of humor that permeates the culture, is probably going to get it.
But the food change is something I know people will understand. It's odd and honestly kind of stressful to not be able to get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It's also becoming increasingly irritating that I can't make my own food, since I don't have a kitchen. To quote Sampath, "I've been here a week and I'm already sick of soba" (soba = buckwheat noodles, which are in literally almost EVERYTHING).
Though, on the up side, I have gotten immeasurably better at ping-pong (which here is not called ping-pong; in Japanese, pin pon is actually the sound of a doorbell. The Japanese name is takkyuu, which literally means "table ball".) It seems to be a class obsession. Out of our six-person class, five of us play with some regularity on the table in the common room--JK and Jin play every break, Chu and Daniel once or twice a day, and I hop in whenever there isn't a dominoes game going.
Right now the big concern is what the Hell I'm doing this weekend--there's the Gion festival in Kyoto but I don't know how much thatll run me to get up there (too much, undoubtedly, as my 18 kippu doesn't kick in for another week). Having just checked the timetables, I can officially say it's over 3,000 yen for the tickets there, meaning my entire Saturday budget would be blown on train fare. Which is no good. So maybe I can get to Gamagori (beach resort town) on bike and save the cash. Hm. Or, of course, there's always just Okazaki castle...
For now I'm thinking a nap is in order.
posted by Meredith at 2:43 PM
1 Comments:
Hey what a great site keep up the work its excellent.
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