Are you sure this is Africa?

Did you know that when you step foot in an embassy technically you're stepping foot on the soil of that country? Well, when one of my AET friends, A.T., who is Ethiopian-American, invited me a few weeks ago to attend a Japanese-Ethiopian culture night celebration with him and his wife at the Ethiopian embassy, I was more than ready to go. I wouldn't get a stamp in my passport for walking through the doors. And the scenery would look a whole lot more like Tokyo than Addis Ababa. But I'd be attending a state party in Ethiopia!

When yesterday arrived for our 12-member party to travel for the event, we had to make the decision of whether or not to go due to an incoming typhoon. Many of us would have preferred to stay home. But A.T. was so excited to share his country's food, music, and dancing with us that none of us could tell him no. So we piled into two vehicles and took off for Tokyo at 1pm Africa time, which means that while we were supposed to leave at 1pm, we actually left at 2pm. Unfortunately, that late departure was an unknown-at-the-time foreshadowing of how our travel to the party would go, for when we finally arrived at a metered parking lot that was as close as we could get to the embassy, A.T. told us that the party wasn't at the embassy at all but at another location instead. After another hour of cell-phone-GPS consulting, hailing a cab whose driver couldn't find the building, and pulling one of two Ethiopian guys who were walking on the street into said cab to lead us to our destination, we arrived completely frustrated. But thankfully the event was very enjoyable and most of us were able to forget about the stress of our travel during the course of the evening.

The event was attended mainly by Japanese people, naturally. However, there were several Ethiopian expatriates at the party. And A.T. introduced our group to the ambassador from Ethiopia. Unfortunately, I only got to see him rather than meet him.

The Ethiopian food that we ate was good but very spicy. Having become accustomed to much milder food this past six months, I don't know if I would have found the food to be so spicy if my U.S. palate were still intact. But my mouth was on fire with just a few bites and I was unable to finish my meal.

The Japanese dancers doing both traditional Japanese as well as traditional Ethiopian dances were quite good. But the best part of the evening was when the people attending the party were invited to join in with the dancing.

H.V. and N.N. dancing on the sidelines, although H.V. earlier in the evening had been one of the people to get up and perform with the dancers.

Ethiopian dancing heavily involves moving the shoulders, which the two Ethiopians in this picture were able to do quite well. J.M. couldn't quite manage the shoulders, although he would have been more than happy to show us the hips-driven Latin dances that he learned while growing up in Honduras.

I never made it to Africa last night. So I guess I'll just have to go at some point in the future. But at one of the traffic lights on the way home, I saw what is surely the world's smallest liquor store (and its bored-looking employee). If I'd wanted to lie down on the floor to measure the store's width, I would have touched the exterior wall with my head and the interior wall with my feet. (Please don't fail to notice the store's name.) When you live and work in a city as crowded as Tokyo, you make the most of every square inch.

Until next time...

Who's that smell?

Scent is one of the easiest ways to trigger memories. I'm sure evolutionary biologists explain it as how the brain developed during our progression from apes to humans; and scent and memories are connected to that primitive part of our brain. But as I don't buy that (the macro-evolutionary apes-becoming-humans idea, that is; the scent-memory connection is true), I just recognize it to be true and figure out how to make it work for me. So with each place I travel outside of the States, I try to find a new scent to connect me with that location's memories. Sun-Ripened Raspberry will forever remind me of France. Cucumber Melon takes me back to my two trips to China (but is now on the permanent DL in the line-up of acceptable scents to use as my memories of China are not very good). And Sweet Pea transports me back to Honduras.

After Bath & Body Works retired Sun-Ripened Raspberry, my favorite scent from BBW became Japanese Cherry Blossom. So imagine how fortuitous I felt it was when I was hired to teach English in Japan. I didn't have to find a new scent to use during my time here. During my first month of living in this country, I smelled clean and fruity when I arrived at school, at church, and even at home at the end of the day. (C.G. always knew when I arrived to our apartment building before she did, since she could smell JCB in the elevator.) But my JCB lotion supply ended. And while my mom replenished my supply, I decided to reserve it for seasons (or days) when I'm not going to have to bathe more than once daily as a result of sticky, gross weather. So I've settled for using a scentless lotion during the week and JCB only on Sundays. As a result, I don't smell as girly when I arrive at school as I would like. In fact, I smell like a little boy who's been playing outside. And that just doesn't sit well with me.

So imagine my joy when N.P. said I could have his scooter for free (minus the cost of any repairs a two-years-unused scooter might need to become operational again). I figured the $150 investment would be well spent so that I could start driving to school. Not only would I not have an hour-long commute every day but I also wouldn't get as sweaty-nasty and require four or more hours to dry out. So after getting my scooter licensed with basic insurance on Thursday, I went for my first ride last night. It was scarily exhilarating. (Those road bumps are felt more keenly when you're in the open air.) It was freeing. (Who likes being dependent on others for rides after they've been their own chauffeur for over 10 years?) And... it was stinky. Yes, the exhaust coming out of other vehicles' tail pipes was quite foul. But I noticed that I was stinky at the end of my ride, which I had not anticipated, never having so much as sat on a motorcycle or scooter until I arrived in Japan. So once I get permission from my vice-principal to drive to school, instead of wearing eau de sweaty boy upon my arrival, I'll be wearing eau de petrol -- NOT the scent-induced-memory of me that I would have liked to leave with my students!

Until next time...

Janie's Got a Gun?

Last week I discovered a new path between bus stops where I transfer from the bus that picks me up somewhat far from my apartment to the bus that takes me somewhat near to my school. In previous weeks, I'd seen people from my first bus pop out in different locations on the street where my second bus is located as they made their own bus transfers. So I decided to follow them and learn something new about this city. The first time I followed, I was able to do so unobtrusively, as there were several people walking the same back streets. The second time I followed, there were just two people (a man and a woman) and me on the back roads. The man looked back and spotted me; and he decided to continue on past the turning point from the back road to the bus stop that he unknowingly had showed me previously. And today, the third time I took this route and ended up following him, only this man and I were walking the back road. When he looked back and spotted me, I knew I must have spooked him since he immediately picked up his pace. When he decided to go out on to the main road via the road beside the McDonald's, all I could do was smile, especially since we met back up again not more than five minutes later on the main road.

Recently, another person whom I've met here in Japan told me a story about cultural proximity distances. (In case you don't know, notions of personal space differ from culture to culture.) This person said a Japanese person that he/she had been talking to thought that Americans' personal space was much greater than that of people from other cultures because all Americans carry guns and we never know when someone might shoot us. Now, I've been told that I'm intimidating to men. And while my friends who've told me this haven't elaborated on why they think this is so, I don't think they meant that I appear to be the type of woman who would shoot someone! So who knows why this guy is scared of me. But we'll see each other again on Thursday as we have seen each other every other non-Wednesday weekday. However, since walking the back roads doesn't really save any time over walking the main road, maybe for his comfort and my safety I'll stick with walking the main road.

Until next time...