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: