Beauty in small things - manhole covers

Attention to detail and aesthetics is everywhere.


It's not a manhole cover, but isn't it lovely!



Tokyo


Chiba City


Kartori (Sawara)

Skipping Around in Japan

I just sat here in my room on the 28th floor if the Grand Prince Akasaka Hotel in Tokyo and watched a red half moon rise over the Tokyo skyline. I tried to photograph it, but I just couldn't catch it.


A small piece of my view.

Who would ever have thought that I would be here?

Katori and Sawara

The day started with a trip to Katori City Hall where with met with three parents representing the three levels, elementary, junior high and high school. There was a question and answer session that left me convinced that we are more alike than we think.

We had a box lunch at City Hall and boarded the bus for Sawara.

We visited the Inoh Tadataka Museum. Inoh Tadataka surveyed Japan and made an incredibly accurate map of the entire country.


We shopped and observed students drawing along the river.


Our next stop was the Katori Shrine.


I think I found Totoro's tree!

Our final stop was the botanical gardens to see the irises. Nothing I can say can begin to approach the beauty of this place.

Chiba City and on to Kasimu

We checked in to the Mitsui Garden Hotel in Chiba without any further excitement. After a short settling in, I set out exploring. I wasn't feeling horribly adventurous at this point, so I started with circling the block and then circling, or maybe that should be spiraling, outward. There is a park across the street from the hotel and a Shinto shrine about two blocks away.

Dinner was on our own and I had missed lunch. I set out in search of food. As i passed a variety of restaurants, I realized I was craving good old American cuisine. Less than a full block from the hotel was an 8 story shopping mall. It was enticing for more reasons than one. It had a sign with a picture of a big, juicy cheese burger on a sign near the door and ,high overhead in huge letters, a sign for Tower Records. Yes, friends and neighbors, the same Tower Records that used to be located less than a half mile from my home in Houston! Now I know where music stores go when they leave Houston!

The food court was on the 8th floor. There I was lured in by the exterior of a small restaurant that looked extremely out of place. A neon Tecate sign glowed by the rough wood entrance and there, next to the entrance, was posted the same picture of a real live, scrumptious cheese burger. Not a McDonald's burger, but the real thing.



I headed back to the hotel with a Japanese DVD of My Neighbor Totoro and two CDs by Ayano Tsuji or is that Tsuji Ayano?

The next morning we went headed to Chiba University where we met the education faculty. I had the good fortune to get to talk with the Associate Professor of Visual Arts, Jinno Shingo.

From there we travelled on to Katori City where we visited a Sake Brewery and then met a papier mache artisan named Miuraya-san. He had created a rabbit that was used as an image on Japanese postage stamps. He demonstrated his technique of created works using a drape mold.





Finally, after a question and answer session we went to our hotel, the Kashima Central Hotel. It's a beautiful hotel with all the amenities.

I went with several other members of my group in search of dinner. We walked an incredible distance before we settled on a restaurant in another hotel. I had eel, which is very tasty.

On the long walk back we stopped at Baskin Robbins for ice cream, then it was back to the hotel for sweet dreams.

Tomorrow would be another day all too soon and it was set to be as full as any of the preceding ones.

Latest excitement

Our bus was in a wreck on our way to Chiba City.

The woman in the other car was very lucky. Her right arm was injured and bleeding, but she and her passenger were both able to get out of their car on their own. Her car was totalled.


Our bus appeared drivable, but we had to wait and change rides. Wawako-san hit her cheek on the dash of the bus and one of the younger teachers was complaining of neck pain. One of our ranks went to the hospital with lower back pain. We were all wearing seat belts when the wreck occurred.


The rest of us are safely installed in our hotel. We were brought here in a small convoy of black taxis.


Chiba out my window

Now it is time to explore Chiba City and find some lunch.

Later.

Trying to catch you up to date

So many things have happened, so many places seen, so many speakers heard, how can I even begin to tell you about it all?



We have met politicians


and Hiroshima survivors,


watched Kubuki


and Kyogen,
ridden buses and subways,


toured temples


and the halls of government,



seen a festival at the nearby shrine


and seen a wedding, and walked and walked and walked.

Before we arrived in Tokyo there was a horrible incident in Akihabara Electric Town. A young man went on a rampage, driving a rented truck into a crowd and then jumping out and stabbing people. Similar things have happened in the States and actually still do. Here in Japan seems to be a much rarer event. Yesterday we happened onto the site of the incident. Passersby were stopping to offer flowers. It reminded me of the memorial to Tom Jones in front of the Art Car Museum in Houston.


Memorial in Akihabara Electric Town

Yesterday at 8:43 we felt an earthquake. Here on the 28th floor, I felt the building sway and heard it creak and groan. It felt like being on a boat, but without the boat. The epicenter was north of Tokyo, but we felt it all the same. I don't believe I would want to get any closer to one of these things.

This morning we are off to Chiba Prefecture!

Welcome to Tokyo!

We arrived in Tokyo on Tuesday, June 10th.

The Fulbright Memorial Fund folks were great. There were signs and greeters all along our path. Good thing. too. as jet lag was definitely taking its toll.

Approximately 160 lagged out teachers dragged wheeled luggage out to our waiting buses. We were met by our guides, all of whom are volunteers. They, in turn directed us to buses by Host City.

Our guide, Keiko-san, in front of our bus

The bus ride into Tokyo passed in a blur. On the bus we were given our meal allowance, signed a receipt for our allowance and handed in a copy of our itinerary.

My arm ached from the flight.

We are staying at the Grand Prince Hotel Akasaka and, yes, it is as luxiourious as it sounds. At the hotel we disembarked and received our room assignments. We each have our own room.


My first view of my room

After a quick clean-up in the our rooms we went to meet some of the Japanese Fulbright Scholars. Each of us was assigned a table with of the Fulbrighters.

I was at Table 8 with three other teachers and Mr. Shigeru Tabe. He was at the University of Michigan in 1967 where he studied linguistics on a Fulbright Scholarship for two years.

After a short talk by David Satterwhite, we walked with Tabe-san to a lovely restaurant called Wa Zatami for dinner. It was awesome! Sashimi to my heart's delight!


Entertainment provided by Yuko Naito on Koto and Koumei Ashigaki on Shakuhachi


Ebi AKA Shrimp


Sashimi AKA Raw Fish, yum!


Edamame AKA Soy Beans

Afterwards Tabe-san left us and we wandered around for awhile.

I had forgotten to take anything for pain and was nearly in tears by the time I made it back to the room. I won't make that mistake again!

More later. I have another full day ahead.

Leaving San Francisco

I have discovered that traveling with a broken arm can be difficult. Duh!

Going through security at airports with a metal plate in my wrist requires a pat down and having my splint swabbed. Oh, well.


Here you see me and the arm preparing to leave San Francisco.

As usual, everything that could go wrong did.

I was in the first group leaving for Tokyo. There are so many JFMF teachers that they divided us into two groups. I was looking forward to arriving to Tokyo early, but this was not to be.

First, the plane was delayed by one hour, than a small mechanical problem had to be fixed which meant finding and installing a new part, and, finally, someone had to be found to take the entryway (Why do I always want to call it the gang plank?) away from the plane so that we could move to the runway.

Once in the air it is slightly more than ten hours to Tokyo.

I did my best to keep my arm elevated.

Up, up, up, and awaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Welcome to San Francisco!

View from my hotel room


View of San Francisco from the window of the Consul general's residence

The trip began with taking off, flying for about 15 minutes and then returning to Houston. The pilot said there was smoke in the electronics compartment. We returned to the ground in Houston gently enough where there was a panic of passengers trying to reset their flights to make their connections to Beijing and Hong Kong. After a long delay we were told that the smoke detector was defective, so we reboarded the plan.

Several hours later I found myself in San Francisco explaining over and over to my new JFMF peers how I broke my arm.

We turned in our Follow On Plans, picked up our books, and went to orientation. We heard from Christopher Powers, the director of IIE, Robert Radford, the director of Friends of the Memorial Fund, and David Satterwhite, the executive director of the Japan-United States Educational Commission. A panel of former JFMFers told us about their experiences. We met with our city groups and changed clothes to go to a reception at the Official Residence of Japanese Consul General Yasumasa Nagamine.

I started this entry in San Francisco in the lobby of the Sheraton Gateway Hotel, but had to finish it off in Tokyo. I thought I had lost this entry when we were called to the buses. I had to log down as quickly as I could.

Cleared for Take Off!

We left early for the Physicians' Clinic this morning. I had barely slept last night. It was a night filled with nightmares and waking up only to doze off again and find myself back in some disturbing dream situation.

Arriving at the clinic it looked as though I had walked into one of my nightmares. The waiting room that had been so full last week was empty. The only people there were two receptionists. When we asked at the desk we were told no doctors were in today.

I explained that I had an appointment. The receptionists informed us that they didn't show anything. I pulled papers out of my folder. One of the young women made a call to my doctor's nurse. It turned out she was headed over right then.

Once she arrived she removed my splint and cut away the cotton that was wound around my arm. She gently removed the bandage. I was able to see my arm for the first time in two weeks. There is an approximately four inch wound, very straight and beautifully stitched together.

She put a new bandage on and showed me how to take care of it. The last thing was a splint that supports my wrist.

Finally, she gave me a note stating that I can travel.

I am a very lucky woman. Good doctors, good medical care from the moments after the accident through the present.

I can use my arm and my hand. I can type with two hands. Best of all, I can go to Japan! Yes!

Surgery at last!

Tuesday at noon we headed over to the Day Surgery. By evening I was headed home with a much smaller splint and a metal plate and several screws in my forearm. It wasn't fun, but my arm is easier to deal with.

I spent Wednesday and Thursday nursing my arm and crossing my fingers. My suitcase is almost completely packed. I still need to finish buying my gifts for my host family.

This evening Joel and I went to a reception at the Japanese Consul General's residence. I seem to be the only area teacher going on the Spring (June) 2008 Cycle. Everyone else at the reception was either a JFMF alumni or a Fall (October) Cycle person.

The reception was great. Carl Rosa of the Japan America Society Houston gave a really informative talk that gave a picture of the size and population of Tokyo. It's mind boggling.

In the morning I go to the Physician's Clinic again for my follow-up. I should have my travel approval tomorrow. Actually I have to have it tomorrow. My flight is Sunday morning at 6:55 A. M.

Cross your fingers for me. Say a prayer. Here we go!

Diaster Strikes , Part VI

I couldn't get any rest Thursday night. I tossed and turned. I had nightmares when I did doze off. I was up Friday well before dawn, well before the hour that all the people I wanted to reach would even be stirring.

I bagged my arm and took a shower. I mumbled to myself about the indignities of showering with my arm inside a billowing, white, Glad Tall Kitchen Garbage Bag. As my frustration grew so did my volume. I got loud enough that both my husband and my dog were worried.

Once I was dry and dressed for the day, I started making phone calls. It was still too early to reach any one, but I had a plan. In a short amount of time I had created a list of names and numbers complete with office hours and any other information that I could cull from the various office recordings and websites.

At 8:00 sharp I started calling. I called number after number, sometimes making contact, more often leaving messages. By 8:45 I had run through all the numbers I had. I was about as frustrated as I could be. Nearing tears, I called the school nurse again. She very patiently explained that I was unlikely to have much luck before 9:00. She suggested I wait until 9:00 or 9:30.

I went and laid down on my bed and promptly found myself embroiled in a nightmare where i was trying to explain to some towering, huge entity that I was supposed to go to Japan. This being was so tall that I couldn't see its head. I was screaming and trying every way that I knew to be heard, but it was all in vain. I woke up sweating. It was 10:00 AM.

I started all over again. I called all the numbers I had already called and some new ones that I had just thought of. Slowly, I started to get some positive responses. One woman told me there was supposed to be a three day turn around on the paperwork for my surgery, but once I explained what the problem was she said she would see what she could do.

I called the long suffering school nurse back at least twice more. Each time she acted as my cheering section, coming up with suggestions and making a call here and there for me.

By late afternoon everything was coming together. The whole thing had become a comedy of technology. There were new fax machines that didn't fax correctly, faxes that only made it half way through, miscommunication of all sorts and kinds. I encountered many kind, but overworked individuals. One by one, things begin to come together. Phone calls were returned. Faxes flew, fast and furious.

By my last phone call of the afternoon all the faxes had found their proper places and I had received the authorization code for my surgery. Unfortunately it couldn't speed everything up. I would have to wait one more weekend. At least it wasn't another holiday weekend.

Diaster Strikes , Part V

Thursday was one of the longest days of my life. I spent the whole day waiting for word on when my surgery would be.

Meanwhile, back at my school, it was the last day of the school year for the kids. All my friends and colleagues were packing up and getting ready for the summer break, either that or summer school.

My room was left exactly the way I last saw it on Friday. There was nothing I could do about it. I had spoken to my principal. My medical papers said that I wasn't to lift anything with my left hand. This really wasn't much of an issue, since even attempting to grasp a piece of paper with my left hand was excruciatingly painful.

I waited and I waited and I waited for a phone call that never came. I could feel Japan slipping away.

Thursday night I couldn't sleep. I had to come up with a plan of action.

Joel bore the brunt of my frustration and fear.

Friday would be another day.

Diaster Strikes Part VI

Wednesday morning we arrived at the orthopedics clinic half an hour early. I filled out paper work while Joel looked at a magazine.

I kept a close eye on the women working the reception area. I kept listening to see if I recognized any of the voices from the previous day's phone calls.

After a very short wait, we were called into another sitting area to await another round of X-rays.

I had taken the precaution of not eating anything since the previous day's dinner in the hope that the doctor would be able to fix me up right away. I could have had a large breakfast and it wouldn't have made any difference.

When we first got to the clinic, the waiting room had been close to full, or so I had thought. When I returned to the waiting room after being X-rayed, I begin to understand what full meant and why I had originally been told June 16th. Every few moments there were new arrivals: people in casts, people on crutches, people in wheelchairs, children with their arms in slings. A man who couldn't have been older than forty arrived in a wheelchair. His left leg had been recently amputated at the knee. A young woman brought in a man in a wheelchair with a broken leg and a broken arm. He seemed to be totally lost someplace between pain and a medicated haze. A woman I took to be his mother joined them slghtly later.

It reached the point that the waiting room was at or beyond capacity. If some of these folks had not come in wheelchairs it would long ago have run out of seats. When the fifth or sixth wheelchair arrived with its human host and their escorts, the center of the room had become a tangle of wheels and walkers, casts and crutches. An old woman arrived on a gurney accompanied by oxygen bottles and EMS workers. Thy didn't try to bring her inside, but instead parked her gurney in the hallway. The hallway begin to fill with more hurt and damaged people.

Early on in this parade of hurt and wounded people I had begun to sink lower in my chair as I realized what a selfish, self-absorbed, snivelling brat I had been. The importance of my broken arm looked like nothing at all next to the injuries of the people around me.

Still, I was determined, if at all possible, to go to Japan.

My name was called and I headed back to an examining room with Joel in tow.

At this point I have to pause for a moment and sing Joel's praises. I am not a very good patient. I am also the queen of understatement, so you know that my husband puts up with a lot of rather irritating behavior on my part. I try to be good, really I do, but when the stakes are a three week trip to Japan, a trip that I have applied for five times over six years and only just now been accepted for, well, I get a little antsy. Thank God for Joel because, besides chauffeuring me around and putting up with me, he actually heard what the doctors and nurses said and remembered it. By this point, I had selective hearing loss.

The doctor took a look at my X-rays and gave me two options. One, have them put a cast on and have them X-ray it weekly , watching to make sure the bones don't move. The odds of the bones moving was pretty darned high and the consequences include operating, re-breaking the bone and using pins to put it back together. Option number two was surgery. They would install a metal plate and matching screws that will hold the bone together.

Personally, I was hoping to go for whatever was behind door number three, but this was apparently not an option.

I took choice number two. The doctor left the room while I tried to call the JFMF people and tell them what was happening. I had called the previous day and let them know about my arm, but I needed to keep them up to date about my status.

A nurse came and talked to me about the surgery. The hopes were that I would go in for surgery last Friday, but, as you'll soon see, this was not to be. She gave me a packet of papers that covered what I would need to do pre-surgery. As we finished up she told me that I would receive a phone call between 1:30 and 6:00 the next day telling me what time my surgery would be.

With that Joel and I were dismissed. He dropped me at the house and headed back to work. I went back to waiting.

Diaster Strikes Part III

The day after The Great Break I woke to find my fingers swollen and discolored. They felt tingly. I read the hospital instructions. They seemed quite clear. If my fingers were swollen, discolored, as in purplish, and tingly I should return so that they could help me.

Joel drove me back to the ER. After a slight wait I felt rather foolish when all I needed was to have the bandages on the splint loosened.

The holiday weekend passed slowly, painfully, and very stressful.

On Tuesday morning, bright and early, I called the doctors' offices and got a delightful young woman on the phone. I explained to her that my instructions from the hospital said to call and make an appointment for Wednesday. She blithely ignored all I had to say and asked if I was a new patient. When I told her I was she said I could have an appointment on June 16th.

I attempted to explain that I had been told that I might require surgery and my discharge papers from the ER specifically said to make an appointment for Wednesday. She continued to tell me the earliest appointment that I could have was on June 16th. After several more failed attempts at communication, I lost my temper entirely, at which point she enquired quite calmly as to whether I had been to the ER. When I said yes, she informed me that, in that case my arm had been stabilized and I could go as long as four weeks without seeing anyone.

I hung up without thanking her and called the nurse at my school. She listened quietly to my rantings. When I had finally disintegrated into tears and sobs she suggested that I call back and ask for a supervisor.

I called back and got a different voice on the line, but the message remained the same, June 16th. I asked for the voice's supervisor. After several minutes a woman came on the line. This time I read the discharge papers to her and then I tried to explain about the Japan Fulbright Memorial Fund. At the end of the conversation I still didn't have an appointment.

Bordering on hysterics, I called the school nurse back. She took the name and number of the woman I had just spoken to and told me she would call me right back.

Five minutes passed and my phone rang. The school nurse told me that she had spoken with the supervisor and explained, one medical person to the other, why I was so distraught. She suggested that I call her back.

When I called I requested the supervisor by name. she was very kind and gentle with me and by the end of the conversation I had an appointment for 8:15 Wednesday morning.

There was still a possibility that I would be going to Japan!

Diaster Strikes! Part II

The only things that I was aware of on the ride to the emergency room were the bumps in the road. My universe was now centered around the unending pain in my arm. The only variations in the pain occurred when the car hit one of Houston's apparently endless pot holes. At this point, I felt sure this was the worst it could hurt.

We got to the emergency room about 5:00 on Friday evening at the beginning of the Memorial Day weekend.

We passed the emergency room turn in at Ben Taub. I had spent far too much time in the mighty Taub's ER waiting room with husband number one back during the really bad old days. They do an amazing job of putting people back together, but for tonight I would pass on their hospitality and go next door. For me. Ben Taub is full of memories. That's a long story in and of itself. Maybe I'll tell it someday, but not now.

The next emergency driveway was less than a block away and led to Memorial Hermann Hospital in the Medical Center. My husband, Joel, walked me through the doors and deposited me at the emergency room admissions desk. While the woman at the desk started asking me questions and filling out forms, he left to park the car. Once she finished with me, I took my seat among the other folks waiting their turn.

The waiting room was divided into three seating areas, each with its own TV mounted from the ceiling. The result was a mind numbing cacophony of sports and news. The waiting room was amazingly empty or so it seemed to me.

An old woman in a frumpy brown blouse tried to start a conversation with me. Apparently she had broken her arm some time back. I vaguely understood that she was trying to tell me that her arm had been broken worse than my arm. I nodded and closed my eyes hoping that she would leave me alone.

Joel returned and sat with me. We waited. I rocked in my seat, cradling my arm and wondering if I would still get to go to Japan. Joel says it took about a half hour before they called me to go in, but I had no sense of time left. The universe revolved around my arm.

Everything from here on gets pretty fuzzy for me. Everyone was very kind and gentle with me. There was a constant flow of doctors and nurses. They took my blood pressure and my temperature. They asked, "Can you feel this? and this?" as they checked for nerve damage. I would love to thank them each and every one, but that's not possible here.

Then, they did the best thing of all, they gave me pain medication. They asked if I wanted a shot or tablets. Silly me, I asked for tablets.

Shortly afterward they sent me to get X-rays. Joel had stayed with me the whole way so far, but here they had him stay outside the door.

A very nice young woman asked me to place my hand in various positions. Positions that had previously been everyday, no big deal, a gesture here, a turn of the wrist there, had become excruciating. I was afraid that I was screaming. In my mind I was screaming, but I kept my mouth closed. Joel, waiting outside the door, said that he could hear me and it only sounded like whimpering.

Afterward I was able see my X-rays. My initial self-diagnosis was right. It didn't look at all right. I definitely broke my arm. The paperwork said, "Fracture: distal radius (displaced)."

I was taken in and helped onto a bed. An IV was placed in my right hand. An oxygen mask was placed over my nose and mouth. The last thing I remember was the nurse injecting some liquid into my IV that produced a very unpleasant burning sensation in my right arm and then nothing.

When I awoke, I was lying on the same bed in a different room with my left arm in a splint, elbow to knuckles.

There was more, people checking on me, signing papers, checking out, but it all passed in a haze.

The emergency room was starting to get busy. Folks in much worse shape than me were being rolled in on gurneys.

I don't really remember leaving the emergency room. All I really know is that Joel got me safely home and, for that, I am very grateful.

To be continued . . .

Diaster Strikes!

I am typing this with one hand.

Why? Because my left arm is in the same temporary splint that they put on it in the emergency room last Friday night.

The following is the long version that will bring you up up date, if you are interested.

Last Friday I loaded my car to leave work. As usual, I put my teaching bags in the back, then I walked to the passenger door, opened it and placed my purse and my new laptop on the seat. I was thinking about which Japanese podcast to listen to on the way home.

I closed the car door and that is when the trouble started. I tripped. I don't know what it was that I tripped on, but I was falling forward and I did the only natural thing. I tried to break my fall.

My right palm slid on the asphalt. My knees slid on the asphalt. My left palm didn't slide.

I knew something was horribly wrong. My left arm, or was it my wrist, didn't look right. It hurt in a strange, distanced sort of way.

I supported my left hand with my right and headed back to the building. I ran into another faculty member and her daughter on their way out of the building. She sent her daughter on ahead of us to look for the nurse while she walked me back inside,

I was lucky. The nurse was still at school. She sat me down and started back together as best she could. She cleaned and bandaged my bloody, scraped up knees and right palm while I kept my left arm flat on her desktop. Then she put a splint on my left arm. By then I knew how bad it hurt.

I was cursing a blue streak that would have made any sailor righteously proud. Gratefully all the students were gone.

My principal stopped by. He's on crutches right now, having recently broken his ankle. Other teachers stopped and looked in, most of them offered words of condolence along with their thoughts about the possibilities of my still going to Japan.

My husband was called to come pick me up and take me to the hospital.

One of my fellow teachers and her husband got my car back to my house.

More later.

Winding Up While Winding Down

The school year is ending and I'm preparing to go to Japan. Nothing new there, except the Japan Fulbright Memorial Fund Teacher Program listserve. All I can say is "Wow!"

As of this last week, I have been overwhelmed by e-mail. It's wonderful e-mail. It's incredible e-mail. It's an avalanche of e-mail. E-mail from all over the country, from every size and shape and type of educator is barreling into my mail box.

As of right now, looking over my list of people who are going to Japan, I know of ten people who are going to Katori, Chiba, thirteen people who are art teachers, and six people who are Texans. All total, I have counted over 114 people and I know I've missed a few! Some people have just sent one e-mail checking in while others have been e-mailing away at an incredible pace. Good thing it is all coming to my home e-mail address. My school e-mail would never be able to handle this type of volume.

I've been trying to keep up. I have to read it all. I don't want to miss one little thing. At the same time, I have an incredible amount of stuff to get through here at the end of the school year.

Let's see, there are grades and paperwork. There is the annual End-of-Year Check Out List. Oh, but the thing that is wiping me out is that I am changing rooms and I have to pack up everything.

The problem is that I am an art teacher and I have a room full of art materials of all shapes and sizes. Some things will just have to be moved as they are and others have to be brought together in one box with other similar items.

And then, there are the boxes. I have never before in my life had so many boxes. The school, my principal and the office staff have been incredibly helpful. I have so many boxes! But, at this point the school year is still going on and I have a classroom full of kids and boxes.

Top all of it off with trip preparations and I'm feeling a wee bit stressed. It's not all bad, but it does feel overwhelming.

I just bought myself a new laptop to take on the trip. I got a MacBook, my first Apple. This is the little machine that I've wanted for a long time, but now that it is here I don't have time to play with it until school is out. I take that back, I won't have time to play with it until this weekend. I definitely need time to become familiar with it before I head for Japan!

I got a new camera for Mother's Day and I have the same problem there. No time. It's a Sony CyberShot T70, very similar to my previous camera, so I'm a stranger to it. It has a touch screen which is taking a bit of getting used to, but otherwise it's easy to use.

It's time to get going. I have another day of kids and art and crazyness ahead. Wish me luck!

My Host City

I received the news last week. My host city is official. I'll be going to Katori, Chiba Prefecture.

I've looked it up on the web and I'm really excited. It is not too very far from Tokyo. Tokyo is west of Narita Airport and Katori is north east of Narita Airport as far as I can tell. There is some good information about Katori online at http://www.chiba-tour.jp/eng/airport/katori/top.html

I started receiving responses from some of the former JFMFers that I have contacted. They have offered many helpful hints and shared their experience.

I'm keeping my mind as open as I can to this whole experience. I have no idea what it will be like, although I have had several dreams that involve being in Japan. I'm sure that my dreams are influenced by all of the reading that I'm doing.

I received another e-mail from the JFMF folks. Today there was a new online form to fill out. This time I got to sign up for two different special seminars. I signed up for "Peace Education" on June 13 and "Art Education Workshop" on June 24. Both seminars will take place in Tokyo.

Tokyo, in five weeks I'll be there. How cool is that?

The Spending Begins

As soon as pay day arrived I went and bought my luggage. I have never owned a suitcase so huge! At the same time, I have never traveled so far.

I got one of those enormous roll-around suitcases. You've seen them in the airport. I know I've seen them in the airport. In the past I always thought, "My god, what are those people packing?" Now, I suppose, I will find out.

I also bought the matching carry-on case. No, I did not get the one with wheels.

My next stop after buying luggage was the print shop. I ordered business cards with my name and info on one side in English and on the other in Japanese. Special thanks to Alex for the translation!

I actually had two sets made, one with my school/work information and one with my Texas Art Education Association Area VI Representative/personal info. They look awesome!

It's early morning here. It's time for me to head off to school. More later!