I am obviously NOT a Monday person.

Or a morning person. But that's another post...

So I read my friend Megan's blog again, and it inspired me to write. It might be because this friend is writing about personal things and in the interest of just writing, versus sharing cultural or travel experiences, for example, but her blog always gets me wound up and emotional...ready to commit my straying thoughts to the processor. But luckily for all of you (??)....I haven't had time, really (and haven't posted the previous 'emotional' post she 'inspired me to write'...). My schedule's been nuts, and today, I left my keys at school. It was a complete fiasco.
The Key Connundrum
I had gone shopping for ESS stuff (supplies for the cultural festival) with Nozaki Sensei after school again, so it was already getting late. We came really close to getting into a bad car accident on the drive back from the store (the car was coming straight at me on the passenger side, but swerved; I actually screamed) and were both tired, so I had Nozaki Sensei just drop me off at a Sanyo station rather than going back to school. Well, I knew my iPod was in my desk, but forgot about the house key, so it was a bad surprise to discover myself locked out when I got home. Furthermore, I was followed home from the station for trhe second time this week. Last time, a guy in a (really expensive) big, black car tried to get me to come get-in and asked for my phone number (basically picking me up on Friday night). This time, this little punk circled me on his bike and then tried to cut me off as I was going to my apartment. I told him it was my friend's place and I was late (told the last guy I was taken), and went in. I am not sure if they're trying to pick me up or harrass me (as a foreigner?), but I am getting uncomfortable with being followed home and don't want these guys to know where I live. I told my coworker about it and they suggested calling the police if it keeps happening. Hmm.
Breaking Into My Home
So anyways, I was contemplating climbing onto my balcony (the sliding door was open because my outside washing machine was still plugged in), but it's really high up and pretty dangerous. If I fell or the balcony couldn't hold me, I would definately break something. I knocked on all the doors in my building, sat for a few minutes considering my options and what I should do next, and then decided to approach the group of housewives out front. I think I have explained it before, but the housewife culture in Japan kind of reminds me of the culture present in 1950s America. A lot of women want to have a safe life and just raise kids, or if they do work, they want to be a dental hygenist (instead of the dentist), nurse (not the doctor) or secretary (called "OL"/Office Lady here... but fewer aspirations to be the CEO). The funny thing is that these women aren't dainty at all; they actually remind me more of characters on Desperate Housewives than anything. My friend has had a few sour run-ins with them (snobby behavior?), so I was a little nervous approaching a ring of these women, busy chatting while their kids played together in the playground, to explain the sitation. To my delight, they were really friendly and helpful. They called the wife of a coworker who also lives in my building, and luckily, her husband was still at school and found my key! The coworker's wife decided to drive to pick up her husband in Takasago, but it would be an hour (plus) wait, so I decided to go to Japanese class in Harimacho. Another problem surfaced: My bike key was locked inside.
Monday Japanese Class
I called my Japanese teacher and tried to explain the situation. My Japanese is still crap (probably why I should be going to Japanese class more), but I could manuever my path through the evening's "situations", which is progress. Anyways, she picked me up and we had a Japanese class with just the two of us. It was actually a lot of fun. I gave my sensei one of my new meishi (business cards), and she was shocked to learn my last name. Furthermore, she was even more surprised that I had a Scottish name. I explained to her that my parents are American, but my grandparents are from different cultures (ya-da-ya-da-ya-da) and we had a long convo about how to define ethnicities. In Japan, if one of your parents is Japanese and one is foreign, you are not considered Japanese. You're mixed (forgot the Japanese word for it already, though), even if you grow up here, look and speak Japanese. She was surprised my mom was considered a real American, even though her parents weren't both born in America. I went to the board and gave the little "salad bowl vs. melting pot theories" lecture. It was an unexpected, but interesting, cultural exchange.
After class, my teacher drove me home, I picked up my key and thankfully got right into my apartment. What a day!
Change of Plans
I am supposed going to Tokyo on Friday (straight from school, after bunkasai) to meet my friend Jessica, but now she is going to come to Kobe Wed-Fri and fly back with me, so the week just got busier... but a lot more fun! Yay.