Where The Streets Have No Name

In trying to sum up the last few weeks, I’m reminded of something Ian, my Prefectural Advisor, recently said in a discussion on culture shock. Some JETs were discussing what stage of culture shock they were in (1st stage: honeymoon stage, when everything is new and wonderful, which should last about 2-6 weeks. Or 2nd stage: culture fatigue, when everything is strange and frustrating, which should last 1-5 months. Or 3rd stage, acclimation, when the place starts to feel like home, which should last a while). Ian responded to the new JETs “I never did understand those different stages and timeframes of culture shock. For me I feel like I’m in a different stage every minute!”
That’s what it’s been like recently. Life itself is up and down by nature, but living abroad somehow intensifies everything. I’m going to try to express that feeling while sharing some recent experiences, all the while experimentally attempting an experiential interpretation of the lyrics of “Where the Streets Have No Name,” by U2, which has been going through my head for weeks. (song lyrics in bold)
P.S. I tried to make this letter concise, and I think it is worth reading, but it’s gotten quite long from all the different experiences recently, so I suggest that you read this in installments, not all at once. :-)

Where the Streets Have No Name
by U2

It’s crazy how conflicted one human being can be sometimes. On one side I must admit I’ve been lonelier than I’ve been for years. Until the last few days I haven’t met anyone in my village who speaks more than a few words of English, which has reminded me just how much of a social creature I really am. Many JETs tell stories about being suddenly flooded with invitations, gifts, and greeting from friendly neighbors, but that hasn’t been the case for me. After nearly a month of down time (which I never handle well after the first few days), I was ready to DO something, without having much to actually do.
This was enhanced by the most serious injury I’ve experienced in 6 years, a pretty dramatic spraining of my ankle. (Just a note for you, if you’re ever taking a jog at night on a dimly lit street in the Japanese countryside, remember that curbs drop away on BOTH sides, not just the street side). The short story is that I was basically immobile (except for going to work and sitting at a desk) for about 3 weeks. Those of you who have survived months in a hospital bed, you have my utmost admiration. I almost dropped into depression just because of the desire to get out and RUN after a single week. The mountains were calling me, JAPAN was calling me, and I was sitting in my house feeling isolated and lifeless.
The other side is that I found myself almost unwilling to accept escape from my isolation when opportunities arose. There is a special kind of humiliation reserved for people who should be able to communicate in the native language, but cannot. Especially when your appearance prevents being inconspicuous, it’s like walking around in your underwear. A kind stranger says something to you that his three-year-old child understands, and all you can do is smile sheepishly. You WANT to understand, and probably should, but it’s just not in you. After years of these experiences I’m able to confidently “walk around in my underwear” (proverbially speaking! PLEASE people!), but it takes a great amount of energy, and frankly, it is much easier to just avoid it.
So when I finally started getting invitations, or saw that someone was about to talk to me, or I had another opportunity to break my painful isolation, I became conscious of a strong voice inside me that screamed “HIDE! Maybe you’re unhappy and alone in your house, but it’s easier than risking your dignity, sanity, and everything out here! HIDE.” And often I’ve really wanted to. Sometimes I have.
The desire to leap into life and the desire to hide and be safe are complete opposites, and their battle continues inside me.
At least on the physical side, I tried running today and kept going for 4.5 km, so my ankle is healed.
(P.S. Added a few days later: my ankle has been sore again ever since that run, so we’re not healed yet).

I wanna run
I want to hide

One battle that I’ve lost to the voice that tells me to hide is the attempt to meet my neighbors. The recommendation is that once you get settled in your neighborhood you should go out and introduce yourself to the neighbors door to door. I had every intention of doing this, and even prepared omiyage for them (small gifts you bring to new coworkers, bosses, neighbors, etc. Japan is a major gift-giving culture. I’m sure I’ll make more mention about this in the future). Every afternoon when I came home from work I told myself “okay, today you’re going to go door to door and introduce yourself! You’ve silently invaded this community for long enough without explaining yourself!” But the fact is, I’m pretty timid about these things. What if I’m bothering them? What if I make a serious etiquette error and they decide I’m rude? What if I embarrass them? And you know, the truth is I wouldn’t be able to communicate with them, wouldn’t remember their names (and maybe not even their faces, which could be embarrassing in the future!), and anyway they’ve probably all guessed who I am and what I’m doing here (my house has accommodated the rotating resident foreigner for 6 years now). The final straw was when I met several people while on walks. They seemed fine with making small talk about their dog, the weather, their house (don’t overestimate my Japanese, I can do little more than spit out a word and point), but as soon as I changed the subject towards introducing myself there was always a sudden change of atmosphere. They always seemed a little put-off, maybe by how direct I was by talking about myself. In any case, I just got the feeling that the locals weren’t that interested, and I didn’t have the language ability to change their minds.
Of course these are all excuses. Going to meet your neighbors with a gift is what one DOES in this culture, and I’ve probably been labeled as rude because of my fear of being labeled rude. But as intimidated days turned into guilty weeks, I decided that I was dragging myself down too much with this task, and decided to let it go.
I’ve always tried to see myself as someone who doesn’t let embarrassment or language-barriers slow him down. After all, we all smile in the same language, right? However, the truth is that there are still a lot of walls that keep me inside myself, that keep me from being free, and I have a lot of work in front of me to tear them down. And I’m starting to accept that we might all smile in the same language, but that’s one of the very few things we do in the same language.

I wanna tear down the walls
That hold me inside

In this environment, a lot of things can make a fool out of you. You start going a little crazy for things you never though you’d rely on so heavily.
First of all I should also mention that I haven’t seen another person my age in my village. Between 15 (Jr. High school student) and 35, there doesn’t seem to be anyone here. This reflects a major social problem in Japan, that all the young people (and I do mean ALL) go to the city. Looking around, I don’t know how agriculture is going to survive another generation in this country.
Second, Japanese people don’t make physical contact very often. They don’t shake hands, they don’t hug. A European greeting of a kiss on the cheek would probably make a Japanese person’s head explode from embarrassment. Going 2-3 weeks without touching a single other person is a surprisingly difficult thing for me. I didn’t realize how difficult until my Japanese supervisor (Takayo, a wonderful and capable woman who can barely communicate in English) took me into the city for some shopping. At the cash register, of course the cashier would be a beautiful 20-something girl with a stunning smile. This is often the case here. I mean, I’m ALREADY going to make a fool of myself in this transaction, do they HAVE to make it that much harder to concentrate? However, most of these girls are professional but indifferent; they take your money in a little tray, put the change on the tray and hand it back to you, all the while respectfully keeping their eyes lowered. But THIS girl looked me right in eyes, HELD eye-contact (just NOT done here!) and then, (get this!) with one hand she put the coins firmly into my hand, and with her other hand supported my hand from underneath, paused a full second while holding my hand between hers, and at that exact moment gave me a sunny smile.
If I hadn’t been so sand-bagged by the existential weight and intensity of my reaction to this split-second exchange, I would have kissed her right there. Or at least asked when she was getting off work, or something... But I couldn’t, I was just too consumed by how moved I was by this simple action, and rather than just smiling back I went into auto-pilot and drifted out to the car.

I wanna reach out
And touch the flame

There are actually many places in Japan where the streets really have no names. Things work on a different system, more of a numbered block system, from what I understand. A city will be divided into numbered districts, those districts into numbered sections, those sections into numbered blocks, and then numbered buildings. Easy enough, except that the numbers usually aren’t in any order. You have to search around until you find the block you’re looking for, then look around some more before the building shows itself.
However, even where there are street names, they’re written in characters that I can’t begin to turn into sounds, interpret, or remember (except in the biggest tourist cities where the names are also written in the Latin alphabet).
Surprisingly, I haven’t gotten lost very often, either walking about my area (though that one time was pretty bad...), or traveling to other cities. I’m not sure why, but the transportation system makes sense to me, and I haven’t had any serious trouble with it (except that the last train which goes to my home leaves before 11:00 pm, and I’ve already missed it once. Fortunately I have JET friends who live in the town where the end station is, so I stayed with them). Considering that I’m in a place where I can’t even pronounce, read, or write where I’m going half the time, it’s been remarkably easy to get around. Oh, but EXPENSIVE! An hour and 20 minute train trip into Kyoto city costs more than $10 one way. It also costs me $6.80 to get to the nearest grocery store by train. One more reason I’m planning to get a car next month. THEN we’ll see how I do with navigation, in this place where the streets have no name!

Where the streets have no name

The first time that I’ve started to feel a part of the community around me was this past weekend, when I was invited to join a children’s club on a kayaking trip. No hesitation from me! There were about 70 elementary and jr. high students, parents, guides, and one towering foreigner. Many people were going on kayaks for the first time, and some kids as young as 6 were in their own boat. As you can imagine, it was barely controlled chaos, and it was a blast. The kids were so interested in this pale giant looming over them, and many of them waved and shouted “hello!” every time we passed on the river, which was often. I got to play with the kids, exchange words in our languages, and make myself useful to the adults by lugging countless kayaks and canoes up the hill to the pick-up point at the end of the trip (which elicited countless “sumimasen”s (sorry to trouble you!) and “arigato gozaimasu!”s (thank you very much!). I even met two adults who are fairly conversational in English! I felt the sun starting to come out on my life in Japan.
Trouble is, maybe I got a little TOO much “sun on my face.” I wasn’t able to get anywhere to buy sunscreen or a hat before the trip, so I fried. It actually hasn’t been very painful, but with my shirt off I look like a tomato with arms wearing a white t-shirt. So “ha...ha...ha” to that!

Ha...ha...ha...
I want to feel
Sunlight on my face

I work with two Japanese English teachers in the Jr. High school. Their names are Marouka-sensei and Ikeda-sensei. Marouka-sensei speaks comfortable English and we’re able to communicate pretty easily, which is a good thing because she’s the one who prepares my schedule and explains everything to me. We got along from the start. Ikeda-sensei I only met in passing for the first couple days, and not only did he seem reluctant to speak to me, but when I did asked him a few questions he was unable to understand me. I began to see myself in one of those JET horror stories, when a foreigner is paired with a Japanese teacher who doesn’t want the foreigner around, and (or because) despite being an English teacher they can’t speak English (yes, it does happen, and more often than I like to think about). I began to accept this situation, though I knew I’d have to corner him and try to work out what my role would be in his classes (though judging from the stories, I guessed my role would be “walking dictionary,” and that’s all). This could be a pretty uncomfortable year.
That was until at the end of the second day, when I went out to the empty balcony of the teacher’s room (where the teachers smoke during breaks), and Ikeda-sensei came out after me. He began to apologize for not talking to me sooner, but it is because his English is not good (indeed, his spoken English is very slow and often grammatically awkward, but is understandable, and probably not quite as bad as he thinks).
Apparently the other teachers tease him quite a bit about being an English teacher who can’t speak English, and he was waiting for a chance to talk with me when the other teachers wouldn’t hear him struggling to communicate. My heart went out to him, as it was immediately clear that he is never at ease at work, and even the students don’t respect him (I don’t think the students realize that his English is weak, but he’s not self-confident enough to command their respect). I did what I could to make him more confident, sympathizing through my long-time difficulty with Czech, and explaining my English-teaching experience to say that I am here to help him however he wants. He was so grateful, for a moment I thought he was going to hug me.
Since then we’ve made a habit of meeting out on the balcony to talk about classes, students, and our lives outside class. Yesterday he spent almost 2 hours with me drilling me in hiragana (one of the Japanese alphabets), and helping me translate my speech for my welcome party into Japanese. I have a feeling that I’ll get to know him much better than anyone else in school. My dread of the coming year working with a teacher that doesn’t want me and can’t communicate with me all vanished in a matter of seconds.

I see the dust cloud disappear
Without a trace

My village has a train that comes through once an hour. It’s a single-car, single-rail train (trains have to wait for oncoming trains to pass each other at the stations), but I am grateful to have even this. Some JETs are in even more remote villages without trains or busses. Though most people have cars, the train is the lifeline of people who do not (myself and the Jr. High students, for example).
Monday started with clear skies, but in the afternoon a storm suddenly blew in out of nowhere, and started DUMPING water on us. The rain flowing off the roof was almost a sheet or water, and it was so heavy that I couldn’t imagine it lasting for more than a few minutes. It lasted an hour and a half. About half way through we were all called to the teacher’s room, where we were informed that the trains had stopped running, and the students would need to travel home soon.
Once a new route was planned for the busses and teachers with large cars, I asked Marouka-sensei if this happens often (it seemed like a pretty major deal to me. I mean, if the trains stop, I’m not going ANYWHERE. There’s not a store, post-office, or hospital within walking distance (and you know MY walking distance)). Marouka-sensei calmly said “oh yes, it happens often.” To my surprised expression the principle looked over and grinned. “Country school” he said.

I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name
Ho...ha...

The first time I met the students of the Jr. High school, the students I’d share a building with for 8 hours a day for the next year, was at the collective gathering at the opening ceremony. All 103 students and 16 teachers would be together there (country school), and I was to make a speech introducing myself. The conventional JET wisdom was to make it as painless as possible “Hello, my name is Caleb. I’m from America and I’ll be helping you learn English this year. Thank you.” Of course, “painless as possible” not my style.
I wanted to do something to make the students comfortable with me. I realized that I must be rather intimidating to these 5 foot, 13 year old kids who are terrified of making mistakes in English, and I wanted them to know that I’m fun-loving, friendly, and (relatively) safe (in a crazy way).
And so on the morning of my first day, wearing a nice black suit and trying to look confident and unconcerned, I was led into the school gym where 103 students in school uniforms were sitting in nice rows on the floor, facing the stage. After a few monotone speeches from the principle and vice principle, I was called to the front.
I started by introducing myself with a few sentences in Japanese. Then I assumed a very stern face and in English (with translation) told them “There are three things that are very important to know about me. Number one, when I teach English I am a very serious and strict teacher.” Then I let silence fall. At this point it was important that they start feeling uncomfortable. I wanted the tension in the room to be palpable. My next task was to shatter the tension, and it was essential that there be relieved and loud laughter, thus making it clear that my “number one point” was understood as a joke and the opposite was true. So after letting my serious words settle for a second, I reached into the bag at my feet, whipped out a pair of giant bright pink bunny ears, and snapped them onto my head.
Silence.
Real silence. I saw the eyes of a few students widen in disbelief, but absolutely no sound of laughter. Ouch. But there was nothing to do but charge ahead.
“Number two, I like penguins!” And I pulled out my stuffed pink penguin from the bag and held it aloft. Silence.
“Number three, I don’t like the color pink.” At which point I pull out a regular black and white penguin. Silence.
I then took off the bunny ears and told them that I want to help them learn about English and the world, etc... “because English and the world are two things that can be very...” and here I throw the bunny ears back on, which provokes (oh thank God!) scattered but audible giggles, and even my translator lets a snort escape, “..fun! Really!” I then escaped as fast as I could, and spent the rest of the ceremony standing on the sideline (literally!), wondering how much damage I’d done.
Thankfully several teachers (including the principle) said to me afterwards that it was “good speech” or “you make good joke!” So at least I know I didn’t trample on some Japanese taboos about the solemnity of such ceremonies. And the students have seemed more comfortable with me than I expected, which might be a result.
I begin to realize how much we depend on our experience of how people behave, and without that (relatively) safe ground of assumption we’re somewhat adrift at sea until we manage to find our bearings again. The fact is that my growing understanding of how people will react in a specific situation, how they will perceive themselves and me, and how they see the world, has all been cut loose until I find its relevance. It’s important to remember that these past experiences with other cultures are not useless and irrelevant, it’s just relevant in a way I’ve never experienced and must discover. But until I do discover it, my paths through my budding Japanese relationships really are without signposts.

Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name

These days I’m often reminded of something my literature professor and mentor Jaime O’Neill said in class one day. I’m not sure if it was a quote or original, but it stuck with me: “Life is not one damn thing after another. It’s the same damn thing over and over.”
I’ve restarted my life 4 times now, pulling up roots, routine, habits, work, and relationships, and moving to a different country (or BACK to a different country, as the case may be). Every time I look forward to the opportunity to start fresh, to build up a new life on the proper cornerstones, with edifying habits and routines, and stop running after flitting desires or profitless pastimes.
And every time I immediately fall into the same laziness, time-wasting habits, and undisciplined lifestyle. It shouldn’t be surprising anymore, but nevertheless it’s always a shock to realize that “wherever you go, there you are.” I think a lot of people who haven’t lived abroad have the idea that they could leave all the problems and frustrations of their old life and start a new life that would allow them to be at peace and harmony with the world. It’s a shock for most of us to really be confronted by the fact that most of our problems aren’t external; we carry them with us like a snail and his shell.
I’m actually living alone for the first time in a while, since in the past few years I at least had a flat-mate or room-mate. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the difficulties of living with other people, in terms of friendship, marriage, cities, society, etc, and I’ve put a lot of effort into being “self-sufficient”, whatever that actually means. But I’m learning that the most difficult person to live with is myself.
This reminds me of something else said to me by the advisor Ian. We were in a conference room and I needed to throw away a plastic wrapper. There were several garbage cans in the back of the room, one marked “burnable” (paper and cardboard), one “cans” (aluminum), and one “PET” (plastic bottles). Yes, everything you’ve heard about the Japanese obsession with sorting their trash into numberless categories is true. But there was no “non-burnable” trash can (plastics). So being the culturally sensitive person that I am I asked Ian what I should do with my wrapper since there was only a “burnable” bin. Without hesitation he looked at me and said “You know, it all burns.”
Truer words have never been spoken.

We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love

“It all burns.” As satisfied as I am with my life (in the big picture, at least), and as excited as I am by the experiences I plan to have in the wonderful wide world, I still can’t avoid a growing understanding that all this doesn’t last, and on so many levels. I spent the better part of 5 years clawing and scratching my way through the brick wall of the Czech language, after two months away I can already feel it slipping steadily away. After 15 years of trying to make myself more patient and tolerant, I find myself more prone than ever before to finding someone’s company undesirable for no good reason. After 26 years of being human, I feel farther from the kind of human I want to be than ever before. My relentless (attempted) accumulation of stuff and money gets me nowhere, and as for knowledge and character, I feel hunted by Socrates’ words, “the more I know, the more I see that I know nothing.” Maybe this is all just as well, because as someone else said “you can’t take it with you.”
People sometimes think that my zest for life comes from some joy or enthusiasm in THIS life, but the truth is far more ironic. It’s my hope of heaven and anticipation of that place which gives me joy, and these days I find myself looking forward to heaven more and more, just as this world gets more and more interesting. Heaven is a place that needs no street names, no maps, no explanations. It’s just home, in a way no temporary earthly dwelling can be. As for this world, there is an astonishing number of things to see and do, to laugh and cry over, to gain and to give, and I’m in no hurry to end my exploration. But in the end, it all burns, and the only final and untainted thing I have the power to do is to go “where the streets have no name.”

And when I go thereI go there with you
It's all I can do

One of the best experiences I’ve had in Japan so far was going with a few JET friends to Nara, the ancient capital of Japan. For details about the gorgeous temples, the quiet and spiritual atmosphere, the dancing festival, and getting attacked by the herds of deer that freely roam the place, you can check out my pictures and videos on facebook and youtube.
The most memorable part of the trip for me started when we walked around a corner and saw a long line of young girls dressed in beautiful white Japanese costumes. We all whipped out our cameras and (since Japanese people can smell a camera from across a football field!) the girls looked at us. At first we tried to photograph them covertly, but when they realized what we were doing several of them turned and smiled while giving the “V” sign (which is equivelant of a wave/thumbs up/peace sign/hang-loose sign for an American being photographed, so you see it a LOT!). So we took the invitation and, throwing broad grins back, took a bunch of pictures of them.
Later in the day we discovered a massive dance festival in the park, of which these girls were one of the performing teams. Between their practices we again exchanged waves, “V” signs, smiles, and more pictures. From this point on they became known as “our girls” for the rest of the day, because we kept running into them and every time they and we would break into grins.
Finally we went to see their dance, which was absolutely incredible. I still get chills thinking about it, and it was clear that they were far and away the best performance we saw that day. We were very proud of them, and afterwards told them how awesome their dance was. We kept bumping into small groups of them throughout the day, and every time I’d see one of them out of the corner of my eye (usually as she was standing somewhere trying to catch our eyes and then would wave frantically and happily and then run off) was a small thrill for me, maybe because it was so cool to actually be able to build a “friendship” with absolutely no common language, maybe because I was proud to be known by the best dancers in Nara, or maybe because I was just struggling with the difficulty of getting Japanese people to interact with a “foreigner” and was so pleased to find a group of people who were as excited to smile and wave at a completely stranger as I was happy to smile and wave back.
One of the lines that is spit out ad naseum in JET conferences is “grassroots internationalization.” We laugh at this catch-phrase, but this was my first experience with what that can actually mean. Near the end of the day it started to rain, then to pour, then to dump down water with a heavy wind. The dancing went on, but we couldn’t take it anymore, and had to leave. I realized I would never see any of those girls again. But I know I’ll remember them for a good long while, and maybe, just maybe, some of them will be even less shy with the next foreigners they meet, and will find further and better chances to learn about the world outside Japan, to know the people outside their community, and will one day be able to count themselves as members of the human race above and beyond all national, racial, and linguistic boarders. I hate to sound like a poster, but I really believe this: Just existing in Japan as a foreigner made it possible to breaking down cultural barriers, and nothing more than a smile sparked that potential.

The city's aflood
And our love turns to rust

I’m so out of my league here sometimes. By comparison, imagine meeting a foreigner in your own country who can’t say more than “hello” and “my name is”, who can’t throw a baseball (or kick a soccer ball) better than a grasshopper, who never really knows what he’s ordering at a restaurant, even when you translate it into his own language, and who even struggles to use a fork! That’s me to the Japanese people.
I spend several afternoons a week getting clobbered, and I mean absolutely humiliated, by 13 year olds playing table tennis. I’m hesitant to go to a restaurant alone, because I can’t read the menu, don’t really know what the food is even when there’s an English menu, and even when I recognize the English words I often have no idea what it’s going to taste like until I put it in my mouth. Could be sweet, could be salty, or maybe fiery spicy, we’ll see! Before coming to Japan I’d had that experience only a handful of times, now it happens at every meal out!
But of course the most humbling is the language. I’ve had a pitifully low level of motivation to study, which I allowed for the first couple weeks but now it’s getting out of hand.
Last week I needed to go to the post office to send a letter and get stamps. I carefully went over and over the phrase “I’d like to send a letter”: “tegami o okuritai no desu ga.” Which isn’t that hard, is it? So feeling confident I rode to the post office, walked in, looked across the desk at the post office official, and froze. No particular reason, the words just suddenly evaporated from my mind like international investment banks from the US market. At that moment I don’t think I even could have reverted to English or Czech, even if it’d been an option. And it wasn’t. She didn’t know the English word for “letter.” I don’t then she knew the English word for “English”!
So there I was, a looming, glowing, monosyllabic foreigner in a small rural post office with the increasingly nervous employee watched me as I tried to find sounds that meant anything, in any language. I started going through a series of grunts and umms, which probably didn’t help matters. By the way, the Japanese word for “um” is “ano,” so hearing someone say “umm” repeatedly is akin to American hearing someone say “grblmf” over and over. It also doesn’t help in other situations when I try to quickly say “yes” in a foreign language and “ano” comes out (which means “yes” in Czech), and they think I’m saying “umm”. After going through all the umms I could manage I gave up and just dropped the letter on the table, figuring she’d get the idea. She did, and slowly and cautiously processed my letter. Then I had to ask for stamps so I wouldn’t have to go through this every time I had a letter. I’ll spare you details.
By the time I got out (successfully, somehow, though I haven’t heard that the letter arrived....), I was sweating like a pig, and ready to either break into Joker-like laughter or Two-Face-like sobbing. Instead I peddled home. It’s all I could do.
I see myself living in non-English speaking countries for a long time, and I love the challenge and the constant state of learning (albeit slowly, very slowly). That is when I look at the situation in the big picture. On the other hand, I hate moments like this, the way foreign language constantly makes me feel like an idiot. I’m certainly no supporter of a single-language world, but if the possibility was somehow offered to me, it would be very tempting, very tempting indeed.

We're beaten and blown by the wind
Trampled in dust

An extraordinary pattern I’ve noticed in the Japanese is something I need to address carefully. There are many things I love about the Japanese, who are a friendly, considerate, hard-working, and fun-loving people. What they are not is well informed about the outside world. There are times here that make the average American look like an international specialist.
I was speaking with an unnamed Japanese mother of two, who is in her mid 30s. This is someone who works off and on with foreigners. I asked her what Japanese people think about the war in Iraq. “Well, they are... (here she looked up a word)... indifferent. They think it is America’s war.” She then leaned across the table, and whispered (though there was no one else around), “where is Iraq?” I first had to find a country she could place on a map, and had to settle with England, and then trace the line of countries from England to Iraq. When I finished she said “oh.... is it near Australia?”
She went on to explain that western issues don’t really interest Japanese, who are more concerned with Asian issues. That’s fair, I thought, since the average westerner doesn’t take much interest in Asian issues, so it’s basically the same principle. I decided to test that angle and asked her opinion about the May/June riots in the South Korean capital, in which 10,000s of Korean citizens and 1,000 of riot police battled nightly for weeks over the lifting of a ban on US imported beef (which had been prohibited in 2003 due to fears of Mad Cow disease). The entire political cabinet under the president had resigned over the public outrage and protest a few months ago. South Korea is a couple hundred miles from Japan. My friend had never heard about the riots.
Really, this is an island. Much as in America (and as NOT in Czech Republic), people don’t really need to concern themselves with the outside world. Japan even has a thriving film and music industry, so it doesn’t have to import from American culture nearly as much as many European countries. This dynamic, as I also feel in America, is sad.
This makes me more motivated to do my job, which, I’m slowly discovering, is not actually about teaching English. First of all, my job description is “Assistant Language Teacher.” My contract say that I am never to be in the classroom alone with the students, that I am not qualified to be a “teacher” by Japanese standards, I am to assist the Japanese teachers. What that actually means varies infinitely from JET to JET. Because my predecessors in my school had no teaching experience and were apparently nervous about having responsibility in front of the class, my Japanese English teachers basically set up a 10 minute warmer for me at the beginning of each class, and then I sit down and occasionally read a sentence on the board for pronunciation or find the right English word when the teacher gets stuck. As far as language teaching goes, I’m basically a walking dictionary and a human tape recorder.
But I’ve realized that my real reason for being here is to provide exposure to the outside world, of course in language but in so many other things too. I’ve answered more questions about Czech Republic this month then I ever did in America. I’ve had more exchanges here that give evidence that foreigners are nothing to be afraid of then I ever did in Czech Republic. What’s more, people see my passion for the world as a whole, and I know that is what any lasting influence of mine is going to be, more than teaching vocabulary or grammar. So I’m excited to build relationships with these students and adults and open their eyes places they never dreamed existed. You never know what that kind of investment can yield.

I'll show you a place
High on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name

I just got up from writing this at my desk at work (I never have more than four 45 minute classes a day, but I have to be in school from 8:20 – 5:00, so there’s a lot of down time), and I went to wash my hands at the kitchen sink in a corner of the office. Several things struck me. 1. I couldn’t be sure that I’m supposed to wash my hands here. 2. I can’t tell if that bottle at the sink is hand soap, dish soap, lotion, or perhaps a refreshing drink in a squeeze bottle. 3. Those towels hanging nearby might be for drying one’s hands, or strictly for drying dishes. 4. There seems to be two faucets, one with cold water and one boiling water, neither of which are pleasant, and I’m not sure how to work with them. As all these things passed through my mind, I realized the most disturbing thing: if I’m doing it wrong, no one will tell me. Japanese culture is absolutely anti-confrontation, to the point where (for example) Japanese business men will say yes even when they have no intention of accepting the terms, and Japanese baseball pitchers will walk a strong batter, even with the bases loaded, rather than risk the humiliation of a homerun. I know that if I do something wrong, no one will tell me directly. At best they’ll hint at it: “oh, what book are you reading?” which very likely means “you shouldn’t read at work.” The only hope I have is the Golden Rule of life abroad: observe! As much as possible, do what others do, and don’t do what they don’t do. With this, and trial and error, you have a chance of not being the subject of whispered conversations in the corner of the office.
A few minutes after I washed my hands I noticed another teacher also washing his hands at the same sink, and using the soap bottle, and then he took a small towel out of his back pocket and used it to dry his hands. Well, two out of three isn’t bad.

Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name

It’s ironic that the thing which most encourages my life is the same thing I most neglect. My faith has suffered here, especially in comparison with how I wanted to make regular devotions one of the cornerstones of my “fresh life” here. I suppose it’s a combination of taking my beliefs for granted, of not wanting to face the fact that the distance between God and myself is slowly increasing, and of the human propensity to focus on what is actually possible to accomplish rather than the more important abstract pursuits.
Another JET who lives nearby, who is here for his second year, asked me if I’d experienced more struggle in my faith living abroad. I answered that as living abroad makes the natural ups and downs of life lower and higher, it is even stronger in the spiritual category This is especially true coming from America, which is a very comfortable and accommodating place to be a Christian. Once you live in a non-Christian country, it can be quite a shock to find yourself to be an outsider because of your beliefs, to not have many people around you that understand and agree with your view of the world.
I write this mainly for any Christian reading this who might one day find themselves living in a foreign country. The struggle to maintain devotions, commitment, and closeness with our Lord becomes much more difficult. The irony is that it is during these times that we most need a moral compass and an anchor for our behavior. Martin Luther said that he would rise before the dawn and pray for at least two hours before starting the day. But when he knew that he would have an especially exhausting and hectic day, he would rise two hours earlier and pray for four hours. It is in times of struggle that we need communion with our God of hope, and it is in times of struggle that it is most difficult to maintain that relationship.
I’ve found myself often reading a chapter of the Bible without really hearing a word, and being bombarded by things that need prayer, to the point of praying for nothing at all. As a result I’ve seen a noticeable decrease in my sense of purpose, my self-discipline, my focus on the joy of life’s big picture, and my patience against the difficulties of the small picture. All vital things in this environment.
Last night I started a new attempt to rekindle my commitment to God, to someone higher than myself, and I pray it works. Until this turns around at least I still know that God is an eyelid’s distance away, and will never run out of patience waiting for me to open my eyes again. I know he has a hand on my presence here in Japan, though in a different way than in Czech Republic, and I know that I want his plan more than my own. And I know that one day all these distractions and excuses will burn away, and I’ll be free to be who he wants me to be, in a place that I’m homesick for already. That, at least, is something.

We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do

Prague is filled with Americans and American culture, meaning movies, music, food, and language. I always avoided these like the plague, feeling very opposed to the many Americans who seem to live in America in Prague. I enjoyed the occasions when I was the only foreigner in the group, and enjoyed going places that no tourist would go.
However, there was a part of me that realized this reaction against familiarity was a result of over-exposure. I somewhat desired to live in a place where I would be excited to see another American, be thrilled to hear English, and crave food I was familiar with, because these reactions would indicate true over-my-head immersion.
After the first two weeks in my village, without seeing another white person or being able to speak English comfortably, I went for a weekend trip to Kyoto. On the train I saw two white guys with big backpacks at the other end of the train. My first impulse was to walk directly up to them and say “Hi, would you speak English with me?” I didn’t, but this reaction was so opposite my reactions in Prague that I knew I’d arrived.
The next confirmation was at Kyoto. During the lunch break in the conference Ian mentioned that there were Japanese restaurants upstairs and many more various restaurants, “such as Subway,” downstairs. Something about the mention of Subway (a popular American sandwich fast food restaurant) grabbed me, and I started craving it. I realized that I’d eaten nothing except Japanese food for the last three weeks, and home and in restaurants! Rice, noodles, sushi, fish, and many other things I’d never seen in my life and still can’t pronounce, but I hadn’t eaten anything with a fork for a very long time. I wanted American fast food, and I actually felt justified! I infected several other JETs with my craving and we spend 20 minutes hunting the restaurant down, all the while talking about how nice it would be to get familiar “normal” food. Yes, I said normal! I don’t really mean it, but you know what I mean! Once we arrived, over half the sandwiches were some form of seafood. But still we made do.

Our love turns to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind

I was making the three minute walk home from school the other day, when I realized that I was hurrying. I wanted to get home and be able to lock the door and not have to worry about anyone seeing me or interacting with me. My work is easy and I like the students (most of them, that is. Even the no-nonsense Japanese educational style produces its share of class clowns and rebels without causes). But at some point it’s just annoying to be constantly under observation, to be swarmed by a group of teenage guys who all shout out rapid-fire the 10 English words they know (in no particular order), to be followed around by the guy who likes to ask me “how many time do you experience the sex?”, to be giggled at nervously by the girls, and to be in the middle of frequent apparently-hilarious jokes in the teachers room that I can’t follow a word of. I don’t really mind any of these things, but honestly I do look forward to going home each day.
At the same time I knew that within 5 minutes of being shut in at home that I would be bored and lonely. Why was I hurrying? After escaping from the environment of over-socialization, within a few minutes I would certainly be under-socialized. “Good grief, Caleb, what DO you want?” I went through the options, and came to the conclusion that all I really wanted at that moment was for an unknown and beautiful young woman to walk up to me and say, in perfect but slightly accented English, “please hold me forever.”
It’s nice to know what your emotions actually want. It’s also good to know that this has nothing to do with what you actually need. You’re free to disagree with me, of course, and I’m sure some of you will, but even if my desire for comfort has increased I still don’t believe it means my need of comfort has changed.
Life is up and down (yes I know this is the third time I’ve said that, I’m going for a thematic thread here!), and I have no intention or hope of changing that. In fact I came here to be kept on my toes, to be pushed and stretched and changed. These difficulties, these ups and downs, these struggles, are proof that I’ve gotten what I was looking for. “Be careful what you wish for...” as they say.
It’s also nice to know that the worse case scenario is that I’ll survive this year. I’m not about to get up and leave without a word (as some have done), and I’m not going to break down (as others have done. Yes, the JET program has experiences people suddenly leaving without telling anyone, suicides, and other extreme reactions to the stress). I will get through this, and I will be stronger for it. And if I learn to apply myself, if I can use this time to get my foundations into place again, if I can develop relationships that make a difference in the lives around me and in myself, if I can come closer to a better understanding of humanity, then I’ll know that I’ve done so much more than survive, I will be able to count it as a victory. I intend to make it a victory, and a fun victory at that!

Blown by the wind
Oh, and I see our love
See our love turn to rust
Oh, we're beaten and blown by the wind
Blown by the wind

So, until the time when we no longer need to fight to be whole, to be who we ought to be, I continue to fight through the challenges of everyday life here in Japan, though it seems most of those challenges come from within me rather than from Japan. I hope all of you will do the same, and find joy in the battle! Take care, everyone, I miss you all, and would love to hear how live is treating you. Mata ne! c:

Oh, when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do


P.S. You read it all! Wow, your dedication, interest, and caring really impresses me, and I’m very grateful! Thank you!

Welcome... Home?

Hello all! You know, it feels like a very long time since I wrote last, though I know it was only a few days ago from Tokyo! So much has happened, and every minute of the last few days has been full of moments and stories I’d like to share with you, try to explain, and document and analyze, but I’m afraid there’s impossible.
I arrived in my village on Monday, called Minamiyamashiro, which means Southern Mountain Castle (there’s no castle here now, though). So, initial reactions: gorgeously beautiful and very very Very RURAL. The village and town together are about 5000 people stretched along spaghetti-style along about 10 kilometers. So far I’ve found no one who speaks English, except for my supervisor, a very kind woman named Takayo, and she speaks English on the most basic level. In a week I will meet the Japanese English teachers who I’ll be working with, and I’m really hoping that they’ll be fluent and friendly. Either way, communication will be very minimal for several months while I learn Japanese (which is already going quickly by necessity, I would have been completely lost several times if I wasn’t able to ask directions and for help in Japanese!)
I think I’ll share a few moments from the last few days, just as random and in various levels of detail:
One of the first people I met was a young woman named Yuri who often wears t-shirts with large English text on them. The first day her t-shirt read “This is dog days,” the second day “It is a few yards from here in the dream... (and on the back) This is where the dream is blocked.”
I keep hitting my head on the door-frames in my house. No joke. I’m getting better, though.
While trying to navigate the large city of Osaka this weekend, I constantly consulted the convenient maps of the area posted almost on every intersection. Problem is that it took me several intersections to realize that the “North” arrow was pointing a different direction on every map, turning more clockwise with every street. Finally when I saw a map indicating that “north” was due south, I decided to just wing it.
I hope I always remember how awe-inspiring the mountains are, like nothing I’ve ever seen, and they scream adventure.
I remember seeing the shower/bath for the first time, and wondering how it was going to work. The first time I tried to take a bath I sat with my knees pressed against my chest and my hands above my head. Yes, it’s that small. I’m still not sure what trick I’m missing, so I’ve just stood and held the shower facet over myself manually.
I couldn’t believe the situation when I was lost on a mountain path in the growing dusk and I stopped in desperation to ask directions at a little forest cabin. I know I was within a kilometer of my village, I just didn’t know in what direction. I asked the kind old gentleman where the Jr. High school of Minamiyamashiro was (a large building near my house, in the town that I’m sure he had lived in for decades). He understood the question perfectly, but was at a loss as to how to direct me. Final after much hemming and hawing, he told me to go down the mountain and ask someone else. So I took the downward path, in 5 minutes was in the village, and in 15 minutes at the Jr. High school. Apparently the gentleman didn’t have any idea that his village has a Jr. High school...
Today I went to a church in Osaka, which took 2 hours by train (each way) and cost $25. The church was Japanese, but the singing was bilingual. I remember singing “Shout to the Lord,” and thinking about all the places I’ve been where God has used that song in my life, in Colorado Springs at Summit Ministries, in the mountains of Czech Republic at English camps, in Worship Generation in Chico California, in a bible study group at Cambridge, English, and now here in Japan. I was hit hard by the fact that God is not limited by any geographic boundaries, his presence is universal. I teared up considerably.
The first time I turned on my TV (Japanese only), I got hypnotized by the bizzarity of a program that was either a viewer-interaction game show, a WWII documentary, a children’s bedtime program, or a Twilight Zone spin off, or maybe all of them. The next program was either a news program about over-eating, a game-show, a sitcom, or a reality show about fat ugly people watching thin beautiful people eat delicious things. Again, it might have been all of the above.
I will remember walking up the Torii gate mountain (the place with the rows and rows of red gates you see in all the pictures. Check out my facebook page in a few days) with Will Taetzsch, who is a friend of mine from Elementary school, High school, Jr. College, etc. He’s been in Japan for three years and is leaving tomorrow. After a long half-day of walking about in the stifling heat (practically tropical humidity), we decided to get to the top of the mountain. After an hour and a half climb, we finally reached the top, downed our celebratory cups of saké, and then heard the rolling thunder of the swiftly-approaching storm. We stumbled down for about 10 minutes before the down pour hit, forcing us to take shelter in a tiny shine to the fox spirits. Being slightly buzzed, waiting out a thunderstorm in a shrine full of sharp-eyed foxes, on the top of a deserted holy mountain in the gathering dark is an experience I can only describe as “eerie.” When we finally got down we had missed our ideal train connections, and it took us four hours to get to my house (yes, I told you my area is rural). And then when we opened the windows to diminish the sauna effect in my house, we inadvertently allowed a geko to scurry into the room and scamper around the ceiling (did I mention this is RURAL we’re talking about?). We were both so exhausted and giddy that the gecko out-witted us for about 20 minutes before we managed to trap it, contain it, get it near the window, and convince it to leap out into the night. I don’t know if it realized we were on the second floor..
I remember seeing my first Japanese castle, looking glorious and graceful in the blinding sunlight, only to learn later that it had been built in the 1960s as a reconstruction.
I remember going to the supermarket for the first time, and being struck harder than ever by the fact that I am absolutely illiterate here. Add to this the fact that things are packaged differently here, and I couldn’t tell the difference between ketchup and dry noodles. It’s like learning absolutely everything from the beginning, and you realize that you think you are a walking talking adult, but here you’re a helpless baby again. There was more than one moment that day when I had to block out everything and just focus on breathing deeply, until the urge to collapse on the floor or throw-up (or both), faded away.
I remember looking at the evening sky over the mountains and thinking “My God, the sky is actually bluer here!”
I kept all my money in an envelope, and yesterday went to take some money out for weekend travels. While I though I had about 33,000 yen, I was shocked to realized I’d somehow spent more than I thought, or had lost several large bills, and now had only 6,000. I decided to deal with tearing my house to pieces searching later, and put 3,000 yen in my wallet. While paying for dinner I realized that those three 1,000 bills were actually 10,000 bills, the money I thought I’d lost. I swear, there are too many zeros on the money here, with no commas! (BTW, one yen is almost exactly 1 cent US now, so the conversion is easy for Americans, just remove two zeros from the end and call it dollars).
I remember taking a walking path up a mountain, and after I’d walked face-first into my fifth spider web (feels like breaking through sticky fishing line), I realized that Japanese apparently don’t do much mountain hiking.
I remember a moment (just a moment) when I stopped noticing that I was eating with chop-sticks.
I remember going to my small welcome party at the end of the first day, meeting the people I’d be working with, and knowing exactly what to expect from all the people who’d experienced a Japanese welcome party. At first everyone is shy and quiet, and very reluctant to speak English. Then after a few glasses of saké (Japanese rice wine) suddenly the conversation and English start flowing, and after a few more cups the shy office workers are standing on the table singing 1960s English ballads. Expecting this, and preparing my strategy for how to pace myself while loosening up the others at the same time, I ordered a beer. After the others ordered my supervisor informed me that no one in the group drinks alcohol. We had a good time anyway.

I think that’s it for now! If that won’t enough, of course keep checking my facebook page for pictures and www.youtube.com/extravpenguin for videos (new clips from Tokyo and the countryside around my home. Coming soon: a tour of my very Japanese house!). Consider subscribing to my youtube site, since I’ve found videos to be a good way of communicating the experience, and I’ll be using that more often. I’ll try to improve my movie-making skills as well. All suggestions welcome :-)
BTW, my mailing address is as follows (no joke):
Caleb House,
Kyoto-fu, Soraku-gun, Minamiyamashiro-mura, Oaza Kitaokawara Koaza Uwano 6-1,
Japan

Thanks for your interest and comments on my emails, pictures, and videos. I’m grateful for whatever feedback you have time to give. :-) Sayonnara for now! C:

Tokyo Baby!

I am safe in Japan, which is about as safe as you can be in the world today! :-) Wow, so many things to tell, so many ideas and experiences already! We had a 15 -/+ flight from New York, with about 120 JET (Japanese Exchange of Teachers) teachers on it (there are about 1800 coming to Japan this year from all over the world). So it was so much fun to meet so many people who are interested in Japan, ask where they’ll be living, what kind of school they will at teach, etc. Everyone’s just so excited and exhausted and nervous, etc. After about 20 hours of travel (most people didn’t sleep more than a couple hours the night before either), we finally arrived in Narita (Tokyo airport), and found about 100 JET veterans and Japanese employees in a LONG line guiding us through the airport, out to the busses, sorting out luggage into what goes to Tokyo and what goes straight to our schools, getting on the busses, and then another line of people leading us through the hotel, through check-in and getting LOTS of books and information, and then into our rooms. I’ve never been so taken care of (or baby-sat) since I was 5! :-) But it’s kind of nice, since there’s enough to be nervous about, and we didn’t have to worry about anything.
Coming in on the bus (about 1 hour) I was so excited to see Tokyo, and was actually disappointed by what I saw. Lots of green fields that reminded me of Ireland, then tall buildings in the haze that remind me of Los Angeles, nothing really strikingly Japanese. I realized that there was no different quality to the world, it is the same reality, the same planet. The light shines the same way, the dust moves in the wind and lands on leaves the same way, the cars pollute in the same way and make the air feel the same, etc. Of course everyone was Japanese, but I kind of expected that.
Then I got settled in my hotel (4 star, right in the center!), and called Megumi (close Japanese friend from California). She took me about 10 minutes walk away, mostly underground (I was lost in 3 minutes, maybe less). When we came above we were in the middle of a huge shopping and entertainment district. Lights EVERYWHERE, I was the only foreign person in sight among 100s of people (and the tallest), and I had the first moment of palpable culture SHOCK in my life. The only thing I could think and say was “oh! Oh! OH! I’m in Tokyo, aren’t I?” Crazy. Check out the pictures on facebook and video on www.youtube.com/extravpenguin.
Meg and I went to a nice sobaiya (soba means buckwheat noodles. If you don’t know what that is really, then look it up because neither do I! A sobaiya is a restaurant for soba noodles) (again, pictures!). We sat at a large table with other people (I saw no other foreign people in that area at all), and they secretly watched as I tried to use chopsticks (no other option), which wasn’t too bad (I’ve been practicing, and good thing!).
Then I went to the hotel and slept. I think this is the only group of 1000 foreigners in their first day in Tokyo where everyone was completely ready to go to bed by 10:00. :-) I was actually able to sleep 8 hours, went to breakfast (I had breakfast with two Indians, two Brits, and one Aussie), and then to the very big, crowded, formal welcome meeting. Lots of speeches about out time in Japan, culture shock, our work, life, etc. Some funny and entertaining, some boring and sleepy. Now I’m taking a break and talking on and on and on in this email. :-) I think I’m a little tired and a little excited, so I know this is too much information. Don’t worry, it won’t often be like this.
I’ve got to go to a workshop now, and later I’m planning to get lost in Tokyo for a while! The weather here is HOT and HUMID! Very! But it’s survivable, since all the shops are like igloos!
Day after tomorrow I’ll take the bullet-train about 2.5 hours south, to Kyoto, and there meet my school supervisor who will take me another hour south-east to Kasagi and Minamiyamashiro. I’m a little nervous about that, because from there I will be on my own, dealing with Japan and Japanese with no one holding my hand. But, what’s what I wanted anyway. Everyone who hears that I’m going to the Kyoto area is so jealous. Apparently everyone requests that area, but no one gets it. I made no requests, and from talking to MANY people I think I have the best placement in Japan. Well see how I feel about that in a few days! :-0
:-) Take care everyone! Matane! c:

Transition to Japan

Hello everyone, I’m sorry I haven’t written lately. The weeks leading up to my departure from Prague were hectic, to say the least! The last week of June my brother and sister-in-law arrived, then there was a week of frantic preparation for English Camp, then about 10 days of camp and follow-up trips, then four relaxing but unproductive days in Cesky Krumlov (a gorgeous city in the south of Czech Republic), and then back to Prague just in time for my going-away party on Monday, Ben and Liz leaving on Tuesday, and then 2 ½ days of non-stop boxing, organizing, scanning, meeting, giving-away, selling, throwing-away, sending, and finally two hours before leaving for my flight, packing my bags! I will do my best to post pictures of all these things on Facebook soon.
Leaving Prague was not easy at all, especially since I don’t know when I’ll be back, and I know there are many people I’ll miss. I’ve realized two news things about leaving a country: 1. Moving to another place involves SO much more than packing your things into a suitcase. 2. The only thing that gets me through these departures is having something exciting and new in front of me. I’m very sad to leave Prague, and so excited to jump into the Japanese experience.
To make a long story short, I have now left Prague, had two days in Ireland (check out my travel videos (short, I promise! Only 2-4 minutes!) on www.youtube.com/extravpenguin. And pictures on Facebook.
Now I’m in Boston, which is my favorite American city. I love this place! I’ll also be posting videos and pictures from Boston soon, so stay tuned! While here I’m staying pretty busy taking care of lots of errands and loose-ends, but also trying to relax a bit, enjoy the city, and enjoy the company of several friends who are “coincidentally” in the city at the same time, the Quivey family and Esther Koh.
I can’t think of anything else right now, so I’ll keep this one short. Check out Youtube and Facebook for more details and visuals, and let me know what you’ve all been up to! Take care, and expect another letter soon from Japan! c:

No Advice For the Impossible!

Hello everyone! First of all, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who wrote me with advice and suggestions in this time of unmarked crossroads and inconclusive transitions. I was so blessed by everyone’s interest, and so amazed at how much thought, wisdom, and experience you all put into your advice. I was most interested to discover that as I read each letter, I would be more and more convinced by the clear logic and wisdom of the suggestions, and then on the next letter I would just as convinced by the logic, except the advice was opposite! :-) But it was wonderful for me to get such wide-ranging ideas and thoughts. I’d like to share some of the highlights of these letters with you all:

-It's much easier for God to guide a body in motion than to overcome the inertia of a parked ass.
- I think the Visa situation is probably God/universe’s way of pushing you elsewhere.
- You say that Czech Republic is where your heart is, so explore your options there.
-Korea: maybe going into such a thing with low expectations and little idealization will leave you with more open eyes and a clearer view of things.
-If your heart is really set on Japan, then I wouldn’t give up on it too easily. Maybe God has closed the front door but has opened the back one.
- If you need money so you can finance your future plans, there’s nothing wrong with working for a few months [in Korea] primarily for financial reasons.
-perhaps there might be some short-term solutions you're overlooking in your eagerness to start something big?
- go have an adventure somewhere, even if it’s only a few months and you have to scrape financially. Otherwise probably soon like most people you will get caught up in some reason why you can’t leave where you are, and will never have the experience. The money will come later.
-By asking and praying for an outcome that we want we are not fully trusting God with his plan, even if we continue to say that we will follow whatever God is calling us too we still want something in particular (the ideal you speak of).
-I can see your quandary, but in one sense it's merely an embarrassment of riches. Think of all the people your age who are utterly without options, let alone such interesting ones.
-if...you go to a plan b, apply for JET next year.
-Korea would have a great Christian community that you could jump into. That would help social connections immensely!
-My philosophy has become, "just keep going until you absolutely can't". It's a hard way of life, but at the same time I feel so privileged. There are not many in this life who truly live by faith.

It’s empowering to know that I have such wise people interested in me, and such a support to know I will never have a lack of council! You can be sure that in the years to come I will present puzzles of my life to you again!
The real irony is that the end result, the answer to this crossroads, is something that no one, not even myself, suggested or imagined. Well, there was really no way to count on this happening! I waited until the end of April, and then decided that I would put the JET program behind me, and move on with other plans. Further information about my visa convinced me that I would need to move on, and I started researching Korean culture to see if I could be comfortable there, Chinese missions opportunities, other Japanese teaching jobs, meeting several Indians and Japanese I know in Prague to get more leads, and even going through the multi-step process of applying of jobs in Japan and Korea. In short, I was totally overwhelmed. Then, on Thursday night, I got an email from JET, that they had room for me on their list of selected teachers and would take me off the waiting list, if I was still interested. My world revolved again.
So, back to plan A!!! I’m going to Japan, and with JET!!! I can’t tell you how excited and relived I am. The last month has been so stressful going over all this again, and to be able to return to the choice that I’d originally selected is very freeing.
So now I’m scrambling to get my bearings and to create new “To Do” lists! Most of my frenzy comes from a renewed drive to study Japanese (this time with PRESSURE!!!), and to read as many books as possible before giving them away (I can’t take 100s books with me, now can I?! Sadly.).
So that’s my news, and I’ll keep you all informed. Once again thank you, I’ve felt very supported during this difficult time thanks to you all.
One last thing: some of you might remember the Extreme Travel documentary that I started in November. Well, it’s become a classic example of projects I’ve started and then gotten bogged down, taking forever to complete them. But, the documentary is finished! Completely! Wahooo! It’s long, too detail oriented and dragging, but it’s my first video project, so let’s call it a learning experience. For those of you who were watching before, you probably got through Day 2, so the place to start again would be the morning of Day 3, which is Part 24. So just go to www.YouTube.com and search for “Extravpenguin part 24.” Then you’re off again! Take it a few videos at a time, or you’ll get tired of my voice!! If you’re just interested in the photography of the trip, check out “Extravpenguin part 23/part 33/part 48/part 55.” Enjoy, and send me your comments, or write them on YouTube! I’m especially interested in critical comments on how to make documentation of my trips better in the future (besides making them shorter and more succinct. I know that already. :-)
Take care everyone! c:

Discover Something New #22 Request for Advice!

Hello everyone, and welcome to a special edition of “Discover Something New”! I’m your host, Caleb House, and as all you regular viewers will quickly recognize, tonight we’re going to do something very unusual for our program. Rather than me sitting here trying to find all kinds of fascinating and intriguing tidbits of information about the world around us, I’m going to simply share an interesting situation with you, and ask for your advice. That’s right, every one of you, from many different countries and backgrounds, to you I turn in this moment of puzzling events in my life.
Okay, so much for the intro! I’ll try to be brief. Please do not feel a need to read any farther than you are interested to read! A certain degree of this will be just talking out what is going on in my head, so those of you who are pressed for time shouldn’t feel bad about skimming/skipping this one. Here is what to expect:
1. Reporting the news about my application to JET, the teaching program in Japan.
2. Explaining the significance of this news
3. Explaining my reaction to this news
4. Reporting my short-term plan
5. Exploring the long(er)-term options
6. Analyzing the options
7. Asking your advice

1. For the JET program (As most of you will remember, this is the program for which I spend dozens of hours on the paper application and then flew to Boston just for the 15 minute interview, simply because it is far and away the best program in Japan. Yes, if anyone doesn’t know already, I want to go and teach English for one year in Japan), after many weeks of waiting, I have finally heard the results of the interview. It’s important to know beforehand that I was fully prepared to accept rejection or acceptance. I’d been praying over it, and since I felt that I was a pretty good candidate (I’ve since had reasons to question that, considering the qualifications of several friends who are now in the same boat as me), and I was praying that if God didn’t want me to go to Japan that he should interfere in the process and have me rejected. I would then have thought seriously about perhaps staying in CZ, or... something else. And if I was accepted, I would take it as an open door to Japan, and most likely accept (since I have to believe from my experience that God never leaves his path without signposts). I was prepared. The results? I’ve been put on the waiting list.

2. From my temporally and humanly limited perspective, this is worse than being rejected, because that would be clear at least. The exact wording on the email from JET was “I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected an ALT (Assistant Language Teacher) Alternate candidate. Notification of available positions for alternates can occur anytime between April and October. If you are not contacted by the JET Program Office by the end of October it means that we cannot offer you a position.” Please note that the program starts August 1st. Let me also say that JET is the thing that first drew me to Japan, and in terms of job security, reputation, support, salary, work-load, cultural immersion, language study, etc.... well, it’s the best I’ve found in Japan in all these categories. If there’s any chance to go with JET, I don’t want to miss it. Think about my position for a moment. It’s basically like being back at square one (meaning that I could go abroad ANYWHERE), except now it’s just as uncertain WITH the added anchor of JET around my neck stopping me from jumping on other opportunities.

3. My main struggle with this is trying to interpret this as a sign from God. Maybe it’s not, but it feels like one (any time I get in a situation where I can’t go forward and can’t stay where I am, I start to feel God winding-up a curveball. More on this in a moment). I’m just not sure where it’s pointing. I admit to a little frustration, since I feel willing to go, willing to stay, willing to go almost anywhere else, so why more waiting? But I’ve been through this before, and I feel confident that it will be clear in the proper time (but maybe JUST in time, and no amount of confidence can take away the stress in the situation. Maybe it’s not supposed to...). For now, though, I’m left wondering and wandering again. (Please, there’s no need for emails encouraging me that “God has something in his plan, don’t worry!” I appreciate it the reminder, but I have no doubt of this idea at all; the problem lies in finding and living according to that plan!)

4. My short-term thought is this: I wasn’t expecting to hear result from JET until the end of this month anyway, and there is the fact that JET sends thousands of teachers every year, so as they notify the chosen teachers right now, a certain percentage of them must refuse, thus opening up a large number of places. How many places, or what my chances are, or what place I am on the waiting list, I have no idea. But I’ve decided to at least wait until the end of April, and if I hear nothing by that time then it’s time to start looking forward. I can’t just wait around until October. Why? Well, that’s it: my Czech visa expires in May. This used to be a simple matter, but CZ has recently changed regulations drastically and there’s very little wiggle-room now. Basically, after May I’d be able to stay in the country legally for three months, and then I’d have to be out of CZ for three months at least. If I was caught coming into the country after August without a renewed visa, I could be deported. And the visa application process takes months, can be expensive, takes a great deal of effort, and I can imagine myself finishing the process and then the next day getting a notification of placement from JET. :-/ Anyway, even if I started the process now I might not finish in time! As you see, it’s one of those situations where you can’t go forward and can’t stay where you are. I’m familiar with these, that’s what makes me think God is in it, and is planning something unexpected, but thinking, processing, and trying on different plans has always helped me find the direction God eventually reveals...

5. As far as I’ve processed this all, I’d say that ALL my options fall into five categories: 1. Go to Japan with JET: This is of course ideal, but there’s no use thinking about it now. It’s just about waiting until I can wait no longer.
2. Go to Japan with another program: Possible, but more difficult and less ideal. The English teaching market in Japan has been really over-saturated recently (mainly by the sudden bankruptcy of the biggest language school in the country, which left 1000s of qualified teachers looking for work), salaries are down, work loads bring the phrase “English-factory” to mind, and the risks of dishonesty by the private for-profit schools seems to be rising (JET is a government program, non-profit, for public schools mostly). I’m starting to love Japan (having spent the last six months studying the language, culture, geography, and history), but none of the other work opportunities appeal to me much...
3. Teach in another Asian country: China was actually my first choice, since it will be more and more important to understand that nation. But honestly the main thing that changed my mind to Japan (besides meeting several wonderful Japanese people in the last two years, and the higher difficulty of the Chinese language) was that salaries in China would probably let me comfortably survive, while all participants of JET I’ve spoken to agree that it’s possible to save around $1000 a month. This would make my future travels (more about that in a moment) much more possible. Returning to the idea of China, which offers almost no saving potential, is hard to swallow. The language and culture don’t appeal to me as much as Japan, but I would not be opposed to this option at all.
Then there’s South Korea. I’m honestly not interested in the culture, country, or language (beyond a little traveling and sightseeing someday). But the salaries might be the best in the world (besides the Middle East), usually with paid accommodations and $2500-$3000 a month. You all should know that I do not have a high opinion of money, but this is still a draw, mainly because it would make it much more possible to volunteer later (see next point).
4. Go to a different country entirely: I had the intention of saving money in Japan, and then spending six months volunteering in each India and Kenya. I’ve considered skipping the Asian stop for the time-being and heading straight to the core of the “eye-opening, character-stretching, life-changing experience” I’m looking for in the next two years. Of course, going without much savings, and without the coming year to prepare myself for the shock, could be a bit much...
5. Stay in Czech Republic: This is where my heart really is, and I see myself returning here after getting some of the wander-lust out of my system. But life here is getting comfortable, and I’m not at all ready to settle down and be comfortable. What would I do here? Teaching English is fine to get by, but it’s no career. If I ever want to start a family, have a fulfilling career, and/or feel like I’ve made my mark on the world, then I need to move on. If not geographically, then in some other way. Although it’s an option, I’m not comfortable at this point in my life with the idea of being a financed missionary, for a number of reasons (mainly that I feel that if I can support myself in my mission work, why take funds away from those who can’t?). I’ll be honest, I had the idea to do this two years of living in widely-ranging places around the globe, and then return to Prague and write a book on the experiences/ideas/conclusions about the universality of man (or lack thereof, who knows!), and see if that led anywhere. What I think it all comes down to is that I’ve spent over 2 years increasingly focused on this “adventure” (though I’m hesitant to use such a light, fun-sounding word. The idea would be to get pushed, stretched, challenged and grown through difficulty every day), and it’s very difficult to imagine just dropping all that and staying where I’ve lived (off and on) for five years now. But (as I could say for all these options!), this may be where God wants me now, and if that’s the case then I know it will be better than I can imagine.
I think that covers #5 and #6!

7. Now I turn it over to you. Each of you reading this has knowledge, wisdom, insight, prayer-lives, and/or experience that I respect, and if you’ve read this far in the letter then I know you also have an interest in my life (Thank You!). I’d really like to know what you think about this situation, and how you would advise me. I’m as interested in hearing you various takes on the situation as I am interested in your practical advice! Be honest, whether you agree with my beliefs or not, whether you think I should go back to Carl Jr.’s Hamburgers in Chico or jump off a dock! In all my thoughts about this, am I missing something here? Is there an option I’m not considering? Is God trying to teach me something I’m not getting (so far I’ve got “He’s testing and strengthening my faith in Him,” and “The final path is too scary for God to reveal it to me now.”)? Any other thoughts at all?
Of course I could hear from JET tomorrow that they now have a position for me, which would change everything, but this situation is too interesting for me to not bring you all in on it. What do you think?!?!? Consider this as something like a “Caleb Reality Show”: “Write Now And Tell Us What You Think Caleb Should Do Next!!” :-D
Also, my parents are arriving in Prague in a few hours, and I’ll have company for the rest of the month, so sorry if I don’t respond to everyone individually! I thank you VERY MUCH in advance for your thoughts, ideas, advice, and especially prayers in this, yet another time of (possible) transition. :-) Take care and God bless! c:

P.S. If any of you remember the Xtrav documentary I was posting in parts on YouTube, I’ve ALMOST finished it! I hope to post it all, in entirety, soon, and I’ll let you all know when I do. Thank you to those who have expressed interest, and I apologize for the months of waiting!

P.P.S If any of you have a "seznam" email address, please write to me at c_house@juno.com. This address, for some reason, won't accept messages from seznam anymore. Sorry if I've missed you messages!

Discover Something New #20 Happy Indians fly to Boston to collect non-existent Japanese Politicians!

Well, I was finally motivated to throw together the first DISCOVER SOMETHING NEW letter since arriving in CZ. I hope you enjoy it (though the quality standard has definitely lost some steam). The last entry is a “quick and detailed” account of the most recent big steps in my life, and where I might be headed in a few days, and in a few months... Enjoy!


Wow!: The Japanese language has almost no plurals at all! 1 cow, 2 cow, 3 cow, 5,000 cow, etc! “I’d like 5,346 tomato, please.” This might not make such a big difference for an English speaker (“so you don’t add ‘s’ on the end, big deal..”), but for anyone who has studied a language like Czech where plurals nearly double the grammatical tribulations of speaking correctly, the lack of plurals is like a boon from heaven! 1 saké, 2 saké, 3 saké, floor!

What?!: From my limited reading on the subject, it has become clear that India is probably the most efficient nation on earth, simply because the poor allow NOTHING to be wasted. Our trash alone would be considered to be an affluence beyond imagination and survival for countless street-dwellers. ANY opportunity is turned into a niche for survival. There’s even an occupation for “hair-collector”, which is a man who travels around to barber shops and buys the discarded hair, which he sells at a meager profit to others who export the hair to international wig-makers. Have any of us ever thought twice before throwing away hair?!

World Problems: I don’t know how much coverage this is getting in most of the West, but I was shocked recently to hear about the riots in Kenya over the last two months. Kenya has been one of the most peaceful and successful nations of Africa for the last 25 years, and has been a leading example for other more troubled countries on the continent. But recent conflicts look disturbingly familiar, and in one way or another concern the very similar trouble that plunged Rwanda, Congo, Uganda, Sudan, and other countries into chaos.
Since Presidential elections in late December, which the opposition leader Raila Odinga said were rigged in favor of incumbent president Mwai Kibaki, over 1,000 people have been killed and 300,000 people displaced from their homes (according to the New York Times, http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/06/world/africa/06kenya.html?hp). The conflict is not only drawn along political lines but, like so many similar conflicts, along racial lines. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that in this part of the world ethnic and political lines are blurred beyond separation. President Kibaki is from the ethnic group Kikuyu, which has long dominated central Kenya and national politics. Odinga is Luo, perhaps the second most powerful ethnic group in Kenya that has a long history of squabbles with the Kikuyu. The political tension have sparked the long-festering racial tensions that still run strong through much of central Africa, but which Kenya has been able to mitigate, until now.
As negotiations continue between the two parties, political riots and chaos continue to give opportunity for settling old scores and venting racial animosity. Even if the two political leaders can make an agreement between themselves, there’s no longer any assurance that they can convince their followers to peacefully accept any compromise. Additionally, the tourism that has allowed for the country’s moderate financial success has plummeted, as already perhaps several billion dollars have been lost, and several billion more will likely be lost before tourists feel safe to return (NY Times). In a country that had a GDP of $17.43 billion 2005, that’s no small loss. Whether or not Kenya can again rise above this disaster has almost become a moot point, as the former role-model of central African nations has been badly tarnished.
One final fact that is completely unrelated but that might be interesting: In the late 1950s a Luo man (the same ethnicity as Raila Odinga, the opposition leader) born in south-west Kenya traveled to the USA as a foreign student, and there married a woman from Kansas. In 1961 they had a son, whom he named Barack Obama Jr.

Actually...: There is a strange tendency among the great international Czech heroes throughout history: they often are not completely Czech. Now remember that I’m speaking about the Czech figures that are well known in other countries, and often represent the Czech people in the eyes of outsiders. For example, the greatest leader of the Czech nation, Charles the Fourth (of Charles Bridge and Charles University fame), who was King of Bohemia as well as Holy Roman Emperor and led the Czech nation during its undeniable Golden Age of the 14th century, was actually only half Czech, on his mother’s side, and descended from the Kings of Luxemburg on his father’s side. The internationally best-known “Czech” author, Franz Kafka, was a Czech-born German, and all his literary work was in German. Arguably the internationally best-known living Czech author, Milan Kundera (“The Unbearable Lightness of Being” “The Joke”) really is Czech, but has lived most of his life in Paris, now writes in French, and has publicly declared that he will never write in Czech again. Josef Dobrovský, a major figure in the Czech national revival movement of the 19th century, was ethnically Czech but was born in Hungary, learned Czech as a second language, and wrote entirely in Latin and German. Not surprising for the time, but still! The most striking example of this idea came in 2005 when CZ broadcasted it’s audience-participation show called “the greatest Czech,” to determine the most popular figure from all Czech history and culture. The overwhelming winner of the nation-wide voting was Jára Cimrman, popularly known as a great playwright, poet, composer, teacher, traveler, philosopher, inventor, detective and sportsman from the 19th and early 20th century. The trouble is that, as everyone knows, Cimrman never existed, being only a fictional character in a series of popular Czech theater performances. So the “Greatest Czech” is fictional!
Really, the true “big-name” international Czechs are a small group, perhaps limited to Jan Hus in the 14th century (John Hus, the religious reformist who spoke against the Catholic church in the tradition of Luther, 100 years before Luther!), and Vaclav Havel of today (the political reformer who protested the socialist rule in Czechoslovakia who became CZ’s first president). It’s interesting to note that of those two, one was burned at the stake and the other spent years in prison under torture. Maybe that has something to do with why there aren’t more in their company!

The Big Picture: A fascinating study was completed a few months ago, an attempt to create the first ever “World Map of Happiness.” Taking in data from all over the place (UNESCO, CIA, the New Economic Foundation, UNHDR, etc.) and synthesizing more than 100 studies of 80,000 people world-wide, a complete world map has been constructed. Of course it’s not perfect, but aims to quantify people’s subjective appraisal of their contentment, leaning on the adage that “if you think you’re happy, then you are, right?”
There are many really stunning results from this list, and I wish I could comment on every entry, but I’ll keep my remarks short and let you look at the list yourself. First of all, where do you think your country falls on the list? Guess before looking below. A number between 1 and 178, where 1 is happiest and 178 is the very fire of hell on earth, what number does your country have (see complete list at the very end of this letter)?
Well first of all, we’re all wondering which country is the MOST happy, right? And the winner is... Denmark! That’s right, cold winters, small size, and suicidal Shakespearean princes not withstanding, Danish citizens scored higher than any other nation.
Also, think about the popular notion of a happy country being a warm tropical island somewhere in the ocean... and now think about the weather in the top 10 countries... okay, Bahamas and Brunei are there, but isn’t it surprising that half of the countries have a latitude of southern Canada or higher?
This list also supports my steadily growing respect for Scandinavia. These countries of Northern Europe dominate the list (Norway is #19, still higher than most of Europe). If anyone’s interested (let me know!) I’ll do some research to find out why I think this is. Hey, you Northern Europeans reading this, why so happy?
Then we come to the other side of the scale. Out of 178 countries, Russia is number 167. Only 10 countries in the world are more unhappy than Russia, and all of those are very much the “developing world.”
But the most surprising score for me was Ukraine. I know several people from Ukraine, and they have always seemed to be a friendly, happy, and open people. Their score, 174. Perhaps the fact that all the Ukrainians I’ve met were living OUTSIDE Ukraine is a key factor...
Anyway, peruse the list and be sure to send me your thoughts and reactions. If you have some internationally-minded friends try playing the “guess the country’s happiness level” game. :-)
1. Denmark 2. Switzerland 3. Austria 4. Iceland 5. The Bahamas 6. Finland 7. Sweden 8. Bhutan 9. Brunei 10. Canada
Other notable results include:
23. USA 35. Germany 41. UK
46. Spain62. France
77. Czech Republic 82. China 90. Japan 125. India 167. Russia
174. Ukraine
The three least happy countries were:
176. Democratic Republic of the Congo 177. Zimbabwe 178. Burundi

Sources:
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2006/11/061113093726.htm
http://www.le.ac.uk/users/aw57/world/sample.html

Question: How would you respond to this statement: “Culture is only skin deep.” (email me your responses!)

On A Personal Note: “Night has already fallen. If you walk without a light it doesn’t necessarily mean that you will become lost, but you will not know if you are lost or not, and the trauma of the moment will come out the same...
To elaborate...
The most significant new event in my life is that in three days I’ll be taking my first trip outside CZ since arriving in September. So of course I’m excited about it, but I must admit that this trip isn’t exactly a pleasure trip, nor would the be destination my first choice if the decision were completely up to me. While I didn’t expect to be returning to the soil of the USA for several years, I’ll be in Boston next Sunday and Monday. The reason?: Attending the most inconveniently timed and placed interview in my life, hopefully ever.
The interview is for the JET program (The Japanese Exchange and Teaching program: http://www.jetprogramme.org/). For those of you who don’t know that I’ve been seriously looking into teaching in Asia, I’m sorry I haven’t kept you more in the loop. This interview is the first concrete step in an already long process of trying to determine what the next chapter of my life is meant to be. I’ve been looking at spending a year teaching in Asia after this year in CZ, and slowly went through the possibilities in China, Korea, and finally several different sources brought the JET program in Japan to my attention. It seemed to fit. The main reasons are as follows: that for a variety of reasons Japan has become more interesting to me than other Asian countries; the salary for JET is about 5 times what I make in CZ, and having a little savings would be a nice change; JET is the only government-sponsored teaching program in Japan, so it’s more stable and reliable than most of the private language companies (English conveyor-belts, I call ‘em); JET places most of its participants in rural areas, which I feel would give me a more horizon-broadening experience than being in one of the massive cities (where most language schools are).
Those are the “pluses” in a nutshell, and I’ve already gone through an unbelievably rigorous paper application process in November (which ended by me sending more than 1 ½ pounds of paperwork to the Japanese embassy in Washington DC).
After sending in the application I had to wait 2 months to know if I’d been accepted for an interview, and I spent the time struggling over what my decision would be. I’d discovered shortly before sending off my application that all interviews were required to be in person, and in the country of residence, and there was no way for me to wiggle out of it. That meant flying back to the States just for a single interview, for a job I might or might not get, and then in August flying back again to catch the paid-for group flight to Japan. That would be a considerable price to pay when it would be possible to find other, less ideal programs in Japan or another country that could result in a similar experience.
So when I received an email a couple of weeks ago offering me an interview in Boston, I had to make up my mind quickly. The number of factors going through my head are too many to go into detail here, but of course the most difficult element was determining if this was God’s will. I’m struck again by the irony of how comforting it can be at time to commit your life in the hands of someone higher and wiser, and then how frustrating it can be at other times to stay consistent with that commitment. I’m honestly not sure that God wants me to go to Japan, wasn’t sure he’d want me to take the interview, etc. And while trying to finalize decisions before deadlines, I’ve struggled with the desire to stay focused on the plan of a God for whom “all time is soon.” I’ve been through this before, but somehow it never gets easier, except perhaps for the slowing growing trust that everything WILL work out, as long as I stay open.
Staying open is hard when you have to commit yourself to a course of action, and that was my difficulty. I didn’t feel peace about risking so much money and time on a single interview, but mainly didn’t feel peace about “my plan” in general. Two things happened to give me confidence to make a firm step forward. First of all I sent out a request for prayer to a few friends and family members, explaining the situation. The response was completely unexpected, when several of my family members (independent of each other) wrote me that they thought this was too important of an opportunity to pass up, and that they wanted to contribute to the cost of the trip to Boston and back. Their offers added up to a little more than the cost of the entire trip, including lodging and food! This was a strong sign to me, that if God DIDN’T want me to go to the interview, he really needed to work on his communication. :-/ I’m so grateful to those people, whose unexpected and selfless offers of financial help were probably more valuable to me as signs of direction than even the financial help itself (which itself was nothing to snort at)!
Still I couldn’t move forward until another step was made. I had to honestly let go of being “set on” going to Japan, being set on leaving CZ at all, and let God make the call. Once I was truly prepared to give that up, prepared to follow God’s plan in a different direction, and once I gave Him the unconditional opportunity to reject the interview, only then did I feel comfortable to go. It’s hard to explain, as these things always are, but once I was in a place where I felt honestly prepared to hear and accept whatever alternate plan God had, and when no alternate plan was forthcoming, I felt content with going to the interview. It doesn’t mean I’ll get the job, or even that God plans for me to go to Japan, only that he is okay with me going to Boston. The next step will be the next step.
So that’s where things are at for the moment. I’m looking forward to the trip just to get on the road again and see some new places. I’ll be stopping in Dublin for a day on each side of the trip (it’s about $800 cheaper that way!), and I’ve never been in Dublin or Boston, so that should be interesting. But it doesn’t change the fact that this is pretty insane, even for me. I’ll be sleeping in a different bed each night, be on a different plane every day, spending about $800 dollars, all for one meeting... and the real kicker is that once I’d bought my tickets and confirmed my attendance, I received a reply from JET saying “Thank you for you confirmation. Your interview will be on Monday, Feb 25th, at 11:40. Each interview will last about 15 minutes...” Yes, insane indeed. I won’t know the results of the interview until mid April, so around that time I’m sure there’ll be another round of soul-searching and guidance-seeking. I’ll just have to burn that bridge when I come to it!
That’s the news for now. Take care everyone! I appreciate your prayers and support, and I’ll try to keep you informed. c:


Nations

1. DENMARK
2. SWITZERLAND
3. AUSTRIA
4. ICELAND
5. BAHAMAS
6. FINLAND
7. SWEDEN
8. BHUTAN
9. BRUNEI DARUSSALAM
10. CANADA
11. IRELAND
12. LUXEMBOURG
13. COSTA RICA
14. MALTA
15. NETHERLANDS
16. ANTIGUA AND BARBUDA
17. MALAYSIA
18. NEW ZEALAND
19. NORWAY
20. SEYCHELLES
21. ST KITTS AND NEVIS
22. UAE
23. USA
24. VANUATU
25. VENEZUELA
26. AUSTRALIA
27. BARBADOS
28. BELGIUM
29. DOMINICA
30. OMAN
31. SAUDI ARABIA
32. SURINAME
33. BAHRAIN
34. COLUMBIA
35. GERMANY
36. GUYANA
37. HONDURAS
38. KUWAIT
39. PANAMA
40 ST VINCENT AND THE
41. UNITED KINGDOM
42. DOMINICAN REPUBLIC
43. GUATEMALA
44. JAMAICA
45. QATAR
46. SPAIN
47. ST LUCIA
48. BELIZE
49. CYPRUS
50. ITALY
51. MEXICO
52. SAMOA WESTERN
53. SINGAPORE
54. SOLOMON ISLANDS
55. TRINIDAD AND TOBAGO
56. ARGENTINA
57. FIJI
58. ISRAEL
59. MONGOLIA
60. SAO TOME AND PERINI
61. EL SALVADOR
62. FRANCE
63. HONG KONG
64. INDONESIA
65. KYRGYZSTAN
66. MALDIVES
67. SLOVENIA
68. TAIWAN
69. TIMOR-LESTE
70. TONGA
71. CHILE
72. GRENADA
73. MAURITIUS
74. NAMIBIA
75. PARAGUAY
76. THAILAND
77. CZECH REPUBLIC
78. PHILIPPINES
79. TUNISIA
80. UZBEKISTAN
81. BRAZIL
82. CHINA
83. CUBA
84. GREECE
85. NICARAGUA
86. PAPUA NEW GUINEA
87. URUGUAY
88. GABON
89. GHANA
90. JAPAN
91. YEMEN
92. PORTUGAL
93. SRI LANKA
94. TAJIKISTAN
95. VIETNAM
96. IRAN
97. COMOROS
98. CROATIA
99. POLAND
100. CAPE VERDI
101. KAZAKHSTAN
102. MADAGASCAR
103. SOUTH KOREA
104. BANGLADESH
105. CONGO REPUBLIC
106. GAMBIA
107. HUNGARY
108. LIBYA
109. SOUTH AFRICA
110. CAMBODIA
111. ECUADOR
112. KENYA
113. LEBANON
114. MOROCCO
115. PERU
116. SENEGAL
117. BOLIVIA
118. HAITI
119. NEPAL
120. NIGERIA
121. TANZANIA
122. BENIN
123. BOTSWANA
124. GUINEA-BISSAU
125. INDIA
126. LAOS
127. MOZAMBIQUE
128. PALESTINE
129. SLOVAKIA
130. BURMA
131. MALI
132. MAURITANIA
133. TURKEY
134. ALGERIA
135. EQUATORIAL GUINEA
136. ROMANIA
137. BOSNIA & HERZE
138. CAMEROON
139. ESTONIA
140. GUINEA
141. JORDAN
142. SYRIA
143. SIERRA LEONE
144. AZERBAIJAN
145. CENTRAL AFRICAN RE
146. MACEDONIA
147. TOGO
148. ZAMBIA
149. ANGOLA
150. DJIBOUTI
151. EGYPT
152. BURKINA FASO
153. ETHIOPIA
154. LATVIA
155. LITHUANIA
156. UGANDA
157. ALBANIA
158. MALAWI
159. CHAD
160. IVORY COAST
161. NIGER
162. ERITREA
163. RWANDA
164. BULGARIA
165. LESOTHO
166. PAKISTAN
167. RUSSIA
168. SWAZILAND
169. GEORGIA
170. BELARUS
171. TURKMENISTAN
172. ARMENIA
173. SUDAN
174. UKRAINE
175. MOLDOVA
176. CONGO DEMOCRATIC
177. ZIMBABWE
178. BURUNDI