Filbeys in Tokyo

Lately, things in my life have been slowing down a bit. School is officially out for summer next week, there was a 4.7 earthquake on Sunday and there's supposed to be a big typhoon tomorrow.

Just another summer day on Kyushu.

Given so much free time, I realized that I never got around to posting about my super fun trip with my parents around Tokyo. We ate decadent sushi, explored museums at Ueno Park, saw the amazing view from Tokyo tower, visited the Gundam Cafe, had teppanyaki on the 51st floor of our hotel (with my limited Japanese skills, I grossly underestimated how much that adventure would cost) and generally just had some awesome family bonding time.

Sushi restaurants at the Tsukiji Fish Market.

Dad squeezed onto the subway.

A look at the Imperial Palace Garden. The palace was closed, but it was still nice to see a glimpse.

Heading to Ueno Park! It was raining the whole time we visited Tokyo, so we had to buy three umbrellas. I now have an abundance of umbrellas in my apartment. They came in handy during rainy season.

The amazing plesiosaur skeleton at the Japan Museum of Nature and Science.  

The Gundam Cafe, my first experience with Tokyo's famous themed cafe. I only knew that Gundam was an anime show about robots, and my parents had literally no idea what was going on. When we walked in, the hostess asked, "Do you like Gundam?" in Japanese, and I was responded with, "I didn't watch it..." It was awkward.

"Get a load of this metal menu, amirite?!"

Both my parents thought all the crazy characters scattered around Tokyo were pretty fun, especially when they talked and moved (like the one pictured above).

But there's no mascot more beloved in Dad's heart than the Colonel.  We thought they even looked similar.

Our hotel, which my father was very excited to stay at because of that little bridge connecting the two towers. He was really into the bridge. I liked the art pieces in the park below.

At the top of the hotel, they had a very swanky teppanyaki place. My parents, who love teppanyaki, encouraged me to check the prices. I misread the menu. So we accidentally splurged one night.

But it was worth it. The food was mouth-watering and the view was even better. 

 Finally, we finished our sightseeing with a trip to Tokyo tower, where we looked out upon the whole city, took photographs, and chatted with other foreigners who were also enjoying the view. Tourist traps are great for making friends with other tourists!

I've been feeling monumentally homesick lately, so looking at these photos just makes me want to give the folks a big hug! I'm looking forward to a trip back to California in December for the holidays, but I suppose it's still a long ways away.

Until then, I guess I'll just deal with this whole typhoon situation and plan for speech contests.

Good thing I have an abundance of umbrellas.

Volleyball and Other Hobbies I Tried to Quit

From soccer, to hip hop dance, to horseback riding, if I could sum up my adolescence in a few words, I'd say that I've always been a quitter.

It sounds harsh, but the internet is a place for honesty (and really weird memes). And if I'm being honest, I have a knack for quitting new hobbies.

Here's how it inevitably happens:

• I try a thing.
• I like the thing a lot. 
• I promise I'll come again.
• I think that this thing could be my thing. I imagine myself doing this thing when I'm 80 years old.
• I tell everyone how much I love doing the thing.
• I go again.
• I go another time.
• I think of something else I could be doing in that time (like writing hit songs for my new album, or working on my self-published magazine, or eating pasta sauce out of a jar while reading Anna Karenina).
• I make up an excuse for why I can't go to the thing this week.
• I make up another excuse for why I can't go to the thing this week.
• I quit the thing.

I don't think there's anything wrong with this pattern really.

I remind myself that I am a social butterfly, a lone wolf and a quirky performance artist all rolled into one weird, winged, howling animal-person.

I tell myself that I can't adhere to a schedule. I tell myself that I am far more mysterious when I don't show up to things. 

Basically, I just tell myself a lot of excuses so that I can stay home, read Anna Karenina and eat pasta sauce out of a jar.

But now that I'm out of college, these excuses don't really fly anymore. If I don't have places to go and things to do after work, I end up feeling like I wasted the day.

At best, it's uncomfortable, and at worst, it's depressing. 

So what's a girl to do? Try a couple of different hobbies until one sticks?

That would be good-- except that in Japan it's practically impossible to try something once without people thinking you're a member for life.

I mean, I guess it makes sense. I live in a small town. My business is everyone's business.

It's basically like living in Gilmore Girls except when people here talk fast and make obscure references, I have no idea what they're saying. 

But still. 

When I first arrived here, I somehow joined an elderly persons' volleyball club. It's a long, weird story, as usual.

I loved playing with them on Tuesday nights-- for a few months. We laughed, we danced, I struggled to speak Japanese in a way that wasn't 100% wrong.

But after awhile, I got bored and wanted to quit.

I don't think I'm really a sports person. Besides, one very old man was always standing entirely too close to me. So I had to come up with a no-risk quitting scheme.

It required some forethought. Quitting here was a lot more of a challenge than it was back when I wanted to stop going to funky disco kickboxing in high school.

I couldn't just tell my mom that I had homework to do.  

All my volleyball pals were running into me at the grocery store, every day, asking me why I hadn't come to volleyball the week before.

Was I sick? Was I out of town? Did I get a new boyfriend?

The answer to that last one was yes, but his general existence wasn't really why I hadn't been showing up.

A couple of months went by. I'd show up once in awhile. I'd try to enjoy myself while I was there, though I had lost all interest in playing volleyball. Sometimes, I'd even go so far as to repeat the words, "you are currently playing volleyball" over and over in my head. I thought it might help to keep me from daydreaming.

The two hour practice would come to an end, and I'd always promise I'd come again the next week.

I started to dread Tuesdays. I wanted out and I wanted out ASAP.

However, when my pushover-ness led me to try a new hobby, I came up with a plan to wash the old one right out of my hair.

A few months ago, a few of my students told me that they really wanted me to go to their calligraphy class. The kids even went so far as to corner me in the hallway with a handwritten map and ask me to promise that I'd come.

So I showed up one fateful Monday, assuming it would be a one time thing.

I left the classroom that day promising I'd come back the next week, secretly cursing myself for getting involved with another hobby when I still couldn't get volleyball out of my schedule.

"Calligraphy is fun!" said my brain.

"Calligraphy is a commitment," replied my intimacy issues.

Perhaps I was torn about the inclusion of a new activity into my week; however, I wasn't torn about the fact that my new hobby finally gave me an excuse to quit volleyball.

Next time I ran into my volleyball friends at the grocery store, I told them that I wasn't going anymore because I had calligraphy at the same time (which was a lie, but a believable one). They nodded and expressed remorse to not be seeing me anymore.

I considered my volleyball woes to be over and done with.

Until I went to calligraphy, where my teacher informed me that she was quite close with the people on my volleyball team. Apparently, they had compared notes about my whereabouts on Tuesday nights. My ruse was unsuccessful. 

It was awkward. I just kind of looked sheepish and said, "I've been... busy..."

It's true. Reading Anna Karenina is practically a full time job.

10 Totally Normal Exchanges I've Had in Rural Japan

1.    That time when I first moved to Kadogawa, and one of my coworkers was showing me around my new office. She took me to the women’s restroom and fished a maxi-pad out of a basket. She handed it to me. Unsure of what was happening, I said, “Oh, very nice. We also use these in America.” I handed it back to her, nodding and smiling.

2.    That time when I thought I was going on a work lunch with many of my coworkers, only to discover that I was actually eating noodles with only one man. I asked him where our friends were, and he responded, “oh, they are not coming.” He showed me Youtube videos of him singing karaoke.

3.    That time when I tried to use my office’s upstairs restroom (the one with only squatting toilets), and I was stopped by a tiny janitor. She was speaking Japanese but I assumed she was saying something like, “Oh, you don’t want to use these! There are nice Western toilets for your Western bottom right downstairs. Why don’t you head down there?” With a chuckle, I tried to imply that I actually love using squatting toilets because they make me feel adventurous (in reality, I said something more like, “that toilet is okay”). I pushed past her and did my business, only to discover that she actually was trying to communicate that these toilets were currently out of order and could not flush.

4.    That time when a woman I had never met before showed up to my office and asked me about the cost of shipping several large books to Switzerland. When I told her I was from America, she said, “well, could you at least fill out this customs form for me?”

5.    That time where I wore a colorful barrette in my hair at the office, and my co-worker pointed and said, “That, in your hair. Why?”

6.    That time I went to one of my elementary schools and a tiny, adorable child came up behind me and said, “Hello English teacher! Are you a man or a woman?”

7.    That time I wore earrings that looked like fried eggs to middle school and my students told me it looked like I was wearing breasts on my ears.

8.    That time at English conversation night when I told a farmer that the name “Lauren” meant “of the Laurel leaves. You know, the ones that Roman people used to crown victors at the Olympic games.” So the next time I saw him, he brought me a four foot long branch from his Laurel tree as a gift.

9.    That time at volleyball practice when I used a Japanese word I didn’t quite understand. To try to explain the meaning of this word, one of the players mimed having intercourse with his wife, and then with another female player right afterwards. The word was “やばい” which roughly translates to “risky.”

10.  That time when my neighbor passed away, and the hospital workers were removing his things from his house. They approached me to express their condolences (in Japanese) and tell me that sometimes, people die, and life is hard, but that they were certain I would get through it.

I didn’t understand, so I told them that I was going on a trip to visit hot springs. They nodded solemnly and said, “oh yes, that’ll be great.”

Woe is Mold

Mold! Mold, mold, mold. Brave and bold. Oh mold.

It's the rainy season here in Miyazaki. And it's absolutely disgusting.

At first, I thought, "oh, how nice. The weather is warming up, things are getting greener, a little rain here and there is sort of romantic, right? I can drink a cup of tea and look out the window and sigh and feel like a heroine in a romantic French movie! Yay rainy season!"

Oh how wrong I was.

Because little did I know, rain + heat = humidity.

Not just a little humidity. A lot of humidity. We're talking 92% humidity.

And what happens when everything is humid, all the time?

Mold happens. So much mold.

My towels smell weird all the time. My shoes get wet in the rain and never dry. And two days ago, I discovered that they're also all covered in mold now.

Like, several different kinds of mold, too. My black flats have tiny brown forests of spores growing on the top. My black sandals have adopted a sort of grey fuzz along the heel. And perhaps the most fascinating of all is the thin layer of neon green sprinkles growing on my faux leather smoking slippers.

I'm horrified but I can't look away.

On Wednesday, I attempted to wipe the mold off my shoes, which actually went quite well. It came right off with one swipe of paper towel.

"That takes care of that!" I thought to myself before happily jaunting out the door.

I was so wrong.

When I woke up Thursday morning, the mold had returned.

"NO!" I screamed as I stared down at the once again moldy shoes I had cleaned so lovingly the day before. "NO, NO, NO! I ALREADY FIXED THIS PROBLEM! YOU CAN'T BE BACK!" I yelled at the mold, hoping to frighten it away.

But unlike mountain lions and other wild cats, mold is a trickier beast. You can't just make yourself larger and bang pots and pans together to get it to leave you alone. Mold shows up in your house and on your clothes and even on your bread if you're not careful.

Mold. The mountain lion of the domestic sphere.

So in a flurry of fear and general squealing, I went to the local grocery establishment on Thursday night in order to find the proper instruments with which to combat my foe.

When I made it back to my moist apartment, it was go time.

To start, $20 worth of dehumidifying beads were placed in strategic locations throughout my home. From the closets to my drawers, I made sure no dark, small, warm location went unbeaded. I scrubbed every pair of shoes I own and then placed them in the sunniest location in my living room.

I realized my air conditioner had a "dehumidify"setting (umm... really, Lauren? After allowing your shoes to undergo such devastation, you only just now realize that you have a giant dehumidifier in your living room?! Come on...) and I turned it up full blast.

I scrubbed my trash can. I scrubbed the walls of my bathroom. I scrubbed the mold off my floor. I even scrubbed myself (because it was 9 o clock, and time to take a shower).

This morning, my shoes were mold free. I felt like I had tamed the beast.

But for how long?

Brave Movinator: 5 Tips for Surviving A Big Move

Weird food. New house. Different people with different problems. Emotional roller coaster. 

These are the main ingredients of what I like to call "A Big Move." 

Speaking of which, I'm coming up on my year anniversary of living in Japan, my biggest big move. It's a strange feeling.

Sometimes I'll remember what it was like in my first month here and be simultaneously delighted and horrified by the level of enthusiasm (and confusion) I exhibited for literally everything that was Japan. Now I'm just sort of living. 

Isn't it surprising that it took me almost an entire year to get to that point?

Maybe. But maybe not.

I mean, I've had a lot of big moves in my life, and nearly all of them have left me feeling totally elated and totally destroyed. At this point, it's become a fairly predictable pattern. Living in a new place is hard-- especially within the first six months. Those months always seem to be a nightmare.

But, I feel as though the more I move around, the more accustomed I become to being one who moves. What would you call one who moves? A mover? A movestress? A movinator? That last one is probably right.

So, I thought it'd be helpful to post some of my favorite advice for dealing with the anxiety of finding yourself in a completely new place and not knowing what to do about it.

If you're applying to teach English abroad or planning to move to a new country (or even a new state!), I hope this helps you out. These little tidbits have certainly helped me deal with some major freak-outs in the past. 

Also snacks. Lots of snacks.

1. Try not to have expectations.

Every time I move to a new place, I visualize myself there, belonging there, being exactly the kind of person who has lived there her whole life. I imagine myself with tons of new, beautiful friends, twenty five pounds thinner, with a great paying job and several inches taller. I also usually am holding some sort of latte.

Between you and me, that's not a great way to walk into a potentially difficult life situation. It will leave you very disappointed (usually).

The thing is, moving is stressful. Beyond just the financial difficulties that come with a big move, moving tends to leave you without a support network (or at least, a support network that's fairly different than the one you've become accustomed to in your last home). 

So if you imagine yourself with those beautiful people and that latte, and find yourself broke and alone, wandering around in a strange new place, it can be a bit of a downer.

What's worked for me in the past is telling myself throughout the moving process that good or bad, this move is going to make my life more interesting in one way or another. Remember why you're moving in the first place when things get tough.

And if things never get tough for you, great! Count yourself very lucky!

2. Remember the 3-6-12 rule.

Give yourself three months to be irrational, six months to get settled in, and a year to make your new location feel like home.

It seems like whenever I move, I have three months of extreme highs ("I'm never leaving this perfect dreamland country!") and extreme lows ("No one in this terrible butthole country cares that I exist..."), which is followed by the six month mark where I kind of get what life is like ("It's really easy to take the bus to Fukuoka, see?"), to that magical year mark when I sort of feel like a local ("Oh, Kinoushita san owns the best vegetable shop in town!"). It's a bumpy ride, but I find that it seems to be very consistent.

However, these feelings can be very hard to handle if you're not anticipating them.

3-6-12 is a great rule to remember if you're just a few months into a big move and feel like you should be, well, happier. 

3. Say "yes" as much as possible...

I can't tell you how many weird adventures I've been on because I decided to say "yes" to odd invitations. 

For instance, a few months ago I went on a women's beauty retreat in Kadogawa and learned to "beautiful walk" and "small face massage" with forty strangers. I spoke only Japanese for two days, caught a glimpse of an endangered aquatic bird (we went bird-watching), and made really cool new friends! 

It was so strange. But the amount of satisfaction I felt for getting out of my comfort zone and handling everything made it all worthwhile.

What I've noticed is that I feel way more fulfilled when I fill my time with interesting experiences and funny stories, especially when I'm going through a big move. It makes me feel that I'm doing things I couldn't do in the place where I was before. It's a good feeling.

4. ...but don't forget to take a day off.

On the other side of the coin, it's also really easy to overbook yourself when you move to a new place because there's so much great new stuff to see and do.

"Of course I'll help with the community garden!"

"Volleyball for charity? Sign me up!"

"You want to go out drinking on a Tuesday night with your friend's ex-boyfriend, a librarian and an old war veteran named Cookie? Sounds like a blast!"

If you say yes to literally everything, sometimes you can stretch yourself a little thin.

Just be aware of yourself and your needs. If you need to skip that really great weekend trip because you haven't had a day to yourself all month, it's okay to do that. If you need to cancel on visiting friends tonight because you're practically falling asleep at work, that's okay too. 

Or if you're like me and you just need a break from speaking Japanese for a day, it's totally okay to skip calligraphy class once in awhile to get bundled up and watch Broad City in bed. 

"Calligraphy? Or raunchy lady-centric comedy?"

You're going through a lot right now. Be gentle with yourself.

5. Be true to you!

Just because you've moved to a new place doesn't mean you're a different person.

Repeat that to yourself. Then repeat it again.

If you like photography, take photographs. If you need to ride your bike to feel good, buy one and ride it. If you hate sports, but your new town is literally named Sportsville and no one does anything but play sports there, you still don't have to like sports.

I've made myself so miserable so many times by moving to a new place and completely changing myself to try to fit in. I've bought different clothes, stopped doing the things I liked, and pretending to like things that I really didn't care about, all in the name of making friends and fitting in. 

Let me save you some time. That doesn't work. 

I'm not trying to say you shouldn't try new hobbies or activities. People are constantly changing and growing, and a new move is a great time to try things out. Try the Singaporean cooking class! Take up the mandolin if you want to! 

I'm just saying that if you try those new exciting activities, and you don't enjoy them, don't keep doing them. Just be aware of yourself. Take note of what you find yourself actually enjoying, and what you're just doing because it feels like it's the big thing to do in your cool, new country.

Big moves are tough. A new place can make you feel anxious, depressed, alone, you name it. When culture shock hits, it can make life feel impossible. Difficult times bring out the worst and the best in people. 

I know. I've seen myself become a sad/angry weirdo many, many times.

But big move is also an amazing thing. It allows you to try new things, see new places, eat new foods, and just generally grow as a person. You'll do stuff your pre-move self would have never done, and I hope it makes you feel great.

So if you're embarking on a big move, congratulations! You're doing something very difficult and very worthwhile. If things get tough for you, remember these tips. 

Good luck, brave movinator! Or in the words of the original...

Hasta la movsta baby!

Lauren and Ray on Wisteria Lane

Fun fact about Japan: they really like flowers here. And when I say really, I mean a whole lot. Sakura (cherry blossom) season is as eagerly anticipated as summer vacation. The two week long festivities are punctuated with hanami, flower viewing parties where everyone gets together to enjoy magnificent blooms (along with some magnificent booze...).

However, Kitakyushu's fuji flowers (known to western folks as "wisteria"), are also a favorite around here. My friend Ray and I decided to take a road trip to check it out-- and what an amazing experience! The colors were sublime, the sunshine was incredible, and the fragrance! Mmm.

It was like inhaling one of those floral sachets they have at bed and breakfast, only less artificial and grandma-y. 

Ray and I met up with Chris and Bek, Kitakyushu ALTs with hearts of gold, who let us sleep in their apartment, drink their tea, and eat their pancakes before leading us to the famous wisteria tunnels. Flowers, friendship and pancakes? What more could you need! 

The end of April/beginning of May is when you need to get to Kitakyushu in order to see these blooming beauties before they're gone. I was smitten with this place-- maybe I'll go again next year? 

Thanks to Chris, Ray and Bek for the amazing time! If you want to check out more pictures from our adventure, check out #laurenandrayonwisterialane on Instagram. Follow me @LaurenLovesNoodles! 

Shimanami Kaido: Japan Cycling Adventures

After three weeks without internet (I forgot to pay my internet bill-- whoops), I'm finally back with updates about life in Japan! I've now almost finished my tenth month here, and honestly, time has gone so fast. It sometimes feels like I'm still a new ALT in Miyazaki-ken, but in a few months, the new JETs will start arriving here. Then I'm sure I'll feel like a veteran ex-pat. 

As for now though, I'm just sort of still trying to get used to living in Japan. Some days I feel like a English teacher champion. Some days I just feel like throwing up my hands and screaming, "why bother?! I don't know anything and I never will! GAHHH!" There are a lot of high highs and low lows. And sometimes, when things get overwhelming, you just have to go do something crazy. 

Like ride a bike 80km (50 miles) across six bridges and seven islands from one prefecture to another!

That's right! I did that!

I rode across the Shimanami Kaido cycling road from Hiroshima prefecture to Ehime for charity at the end of April! Hiroshima prefecture takes about 7 hours to reach by train, and though it was a lot of travel time for one weekend (I was ABSOLUTELY exhausted at work on Monday), it was probably one of the most fun adventures of my life.

I met a ton of JETs from Okayama, Shimane, and Hiroshima prefectures and we all completed the trip together, which was a great motivator for when my legs began to stop working. 

We all rented bicycles in Onomichi and boarded a ferry to begin our long bicycling journey.

My new friend, Dana, who I met on the train to Onomichi the night before. Dana and I completed the whole road together, cracking jokes the whole time! Nothing like harrowing physical exercise to make new friends!

This was the first of our six bridges, and riding across it felt like flying through the sky. The view was amazing. Islands, oceans, boats and cyclers as far as the eye could see.

 On the second island, we reached this happy fellow. I tried to climb up his tail but I didn't get very far.

 I also tried a strawberry daifuku, a mochi treat said to bring good luck! I'm not sure if that's true, but the strawberry, mochi and azuki combination did not disappoint.


Me and the gals, still going strong after only a few kilometers(Photo credit goes to Dana-- thanks!)!

Another grand bridge taunting us from the distance...

 ...as we take a quick break for water and snacks at the convenience store.

 Flowers and Dana looking fabulous as we begin to ride up to another bridge. The bridges were the worst! There were six of them, and before each one there was a giant hill just to get up to the same level as the bridge so you could cross it! My legs were on fire every time!

Dana and I stopped to take some really good jumping photos by this neat cloud house. There was a reason it took us 10 hours to finish...

At this point, my legs were about to fall off and my crotch felt like... well, I don't even know if I'm comfortable describing my crotch sensation on this blog. I feel like my grandparents might read this. So instead, I'll say, "hi grandparents! I love you! Cycling is tough on the old lady business."

Our "We finally finished this crazy journey and this bridge was insane and I'm so tired I'm going to die but I'm going to try not to look tired" face selfie! We finished!

I tried to take a ton of pictures documenting the whole experience from start to finish, but at some point I realized this was one of those "you had to be there" type experiences.

I don't know how I can begin to describe how incredible it felt to cross each of those bridges, or to eat tiny mikan oranges an old man gave us when we were very tired, or how much pain my legs and crotch were in. Seriously. So much pain.

But the endorphins made up for it, I suppose. I had never ridden a road bike before, and it was a thrilling experience. I'd love to do more events like this in the future.

As for now, I'll just try to get through another week of school. I caught a cold this weekend and it's keeping me from being a productive human. Ugh.

Until next time!