Last Wednesday I was out on my balcony hanging some laundry when my neighbour starts shouting at me that I’m noisy. Since this already happened once before on Sunday and it pretty much sounded like a paranoid, crazy woman, I decided to just ignore here. I was hardly making any sound hanging my laundry after all. Not 10 seconds later she starts banging the laundry pole, that is pretty much standard in every Japanese apartment, against the divide between my balcony and hers. Again I decide to just let her be and ignore her. Then she starts shouting again, and all of a sudden I see her fist coming right through the divide. She punched a nice big hole in the divide.

Besides scaring the crap out of me with her wacky behaviour she also made me very mad. Fortunately my apartment is rented by my company, so I only had to call them and they handled everything for me.

Then at 11.30pm a neat guy in a suit rings my bell. He says he is the tenant next door and that he would like to apoligise for his girlfriends behaviour with a large cake… Well, he has been warned that if it happens again he will be requested to move out by the landlord, so hopefully no more cake from him. 

I recently inherited three fish from a departing colleague. Just a little bit more recently one of those fish went belly up. After a short and somber ceremony the poor fish received a toilet burial. Sorry Nancy.

Since last post I’ve been busy enjoying life in Japan. In no particular order here a summary of events. I’ve bought a new computer. I’ve escaped experiencing an earthquake. I’ve started taking Japanese classes once a week at the international community centre in Kyoto and they charge me 50 yen per class (that’s about 50 cents in any of your currencies). I’ve been enjoying my job. I still like visiting Japanese public baths. I’m preparing for a visit from my parents in a few weeks. I’ve seen cherry blossom (see my Photobook). I’ve suffered two colds and hayfever. I’ve aquired a heap of paperwork from various sources, mainly from work. A departing colleague donate me her guppy fish and camping chair for on my balcony, as well as various other things.

Well, that’s just about the life-changing events that happened to me over the past month or so. I’m sure I’ll be back soon with another update.

It looks like I'm back to stay this time, at least for the next few years. From coming Monday I will start a two week teacher training course with Peppy Kids Club, an English language school for kids. During those two weeks I will be in Nagoya and then I will move to my permanent placement in Otsu, close to Kyoto.

I'm typing this on my fancy Japanese mobile so typing doesn't go very fast. I'll supply an update when I find a proper keyboard somewhere. Until then, sayonara.

Today at work I heard the weirdest and most ingorant thing I’ve heard in a while. As most of you know, I work in a hotel. This morning I got to talk a little bit with an American lady, who was waiting on an airport transfer with her husband. Her flight was at 10.35am and our conversation took place around 7.30am. She was getting a little worried about her flight. After all, in America you need to be at the airport for two hours in advance, even for domestic flights, because of security reasons. In Australia you only need to be at the airport 30 minutes prior to departure.

And this was what made this lady so nervous. Because how could they possibly do the security checks in 30 minutes. Or… are there now security checks in Australia? “Well,” she said, “surely you have security checks in Australia. I’ve walked through Melbourne and I saw many many Muslims, so I better hope you have security checks at the airport.” What the…??????

I think terrorism isn’t America’s biggest threat. Surely more dangerous than terrorism is ingorance. Who wants to join me in a war on ingorism?

Australia has been battling a severe drought the past few months, and we are urged by the various governments to consume as little water as we can. Yesterday electricity was added to the list. Bushfires are still tormenting large parts of the state of Victoria, yesterday causing one of the main power supply lines to the state to switch off, leaving half of Melbourne without power. Trains and trams were severely effected and over 1200 traffic lights in the city went black.

With all this going on the state government has kindly requested we take it easy with our power consumption and has hinted at the possibility that electricity wasters might be fined up to $10,000. Considering that it was 31 degrees at the coolest of the night, and the mercury has climbed up to 36 already again for today, I wouldn’t mind turning the aircon on, but I guess I’ll try to be a good boy today and save power.

You know how sometimes a smell can trigger a memory? One of the fragrances of the deodorant I use (Lynx/Axe) reminds me of a backpackers hostel I staid in in Brisbane over five years ago. The smell of fresh flowers reminds me of cycling holidays I used to take with my family over fifteen years ago. And the dominant smell in the city today reminds me of when I was in Sydney, also five years ago, when the forests around Sydney were on fire and the city was filled with smoke from those bushfires. I had heard about the bushfires in North and East Victoria on the news, but today the city was covered in a thick blanket of smoke. For some reason the smell of that gives me a relaxed feeling. This is possibly because the same smell was present when I spent time on the tropical Fraser Island also about five years ago and controlled burn-offs were in progress to prevent bushfires from occuring. For some reason my mind decided to link the smell of smoke to a relaxing experience, and that’s fine with me.

Last Monday I got up early to go to La Trobe for the last time on official scheduled business: my last exam, Japanese. As the exam itself only constituted 35% of my final mark, I knew I had already passed the subject going in. I nevertheless put in my best effort. When I finished after two hours it felt like a weight had fallen of my shoulders. I had completed my university degree. I had the inner urge to run a lap of honour through the examination venue, but I managed to contain my enthusiasm.

Today my housemate and best friend left on a two month trip for Colombia to visit his family. That meant goodbye for us, as I will (if everything works out with my visa) have gone to Japan by the time he gets back. That made me really realise that I’m done being a student. Well, as my girlfriend says, I will never be done being a student, as life is a constant learning process, but you get my drift. In roughly eight weeks from now I will be exchanging the dry and dusty that is Australia for a new adventure. As I wrote earlier, I’m looking forward to that, but it also means saying goodbye to my current life. It’s exciting, but with a hint of sadness.

Last night I again got caught in a Colombian BBQ. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time. The Colombians sure know how to throw a party. There was food, drink, music and dancing people everywhere. I guess it’s the dancing I’m most envious of. It seems that Colombians are born with a rhythm that is remarkably absent in my own Dutch culture. When the salsa music starts to play everybody, except for the non-Colombians, flocks to the dance floor. It’s great to watch, and I did give it one little try myself, but it’s so difficult to just get into the rhythm and let go, rather than watching your feet and counting steps. Dancing salsa is one of these things that I’ve added to my list of “things-I-would-love-to-learn-but-probably-never-will”. Playing the drums, like Phil Collins, is another one of those items high on that list, and so is singing like Phil Collins for that matter.