the way we were the way we are

What does one do when their Japanese teacher is coming for a lesson in the rainy morning, and the room is a disaster zone? Why, obviously, throw things in the closet, toss a blanket over the clothes on the bed that you were too drunk to bother with throwing on the floor last night, and do one quick sweep with the broom. Voila!

Also. Have large glass of orange juice on the table during lesson to keep from throwing up. Double voila!

This week is parent-teacher conferences at school. After the lesson last night, I was incharge of four little ones. Two of my students and two little brothers. One was three years old, and like most children he had no concept that I would not be able to understand Japanese. I have decided this is the most endearing quality for a child to own. He chattered away at me, asked me questions, and I did my best to communicate. Though, I think that coming up to someone with pink chalk on your hands and a large smile on your face and screaming "PINKU" goes beyond language barriers.

After work I went to beirhall, the local gaikoku-jin (ex-pat) hang out, with Kyle. Strangely enough, the place was over-run with nihon-jin. The last time I was there, the bartender had bought me a large bouquet of flowers for my birthday. Being the unorganized mess that I am, I didn't write a thank-you note. While I sipped my first glass of wine, and with Kyle's help, I wrote a thank you note in Japanese. When we got to the end of the letter, neither of us knew the proper way to write a closing. Naively, I assumed the Japanese man seated next to me knew English, so I fired away with my question. When I saw his face, I realized it would have made much more sense if I had had pink chalk on my hands and a large smile on my face and screamed "PINKU!"