I made phone contact with my sister Sally and my mum on the weekend, and also talked to Sam and Gordon (I'll call you tomorrow morning, Tina - it'll be Monday evening for you...). It's weird to talk to people 13 hours away. It was such a gift to hear familiar voices; it meant a lot to me. Things sound good; Sally is into her last days/weeks before having her baby, and off work. (I'm very excited; I've been having a lot of dreams about babies...) Their new house is ready for the baby, and the cell phones are charged! Mum's team won at curling and she beat Jim at Scrabble twice in a row, so she's thinking of buying a lottery ticket. Gordon and Sam are moving out of "Crack Towers" soon, and Gordon has a new place.

Classes went well on the weekend, but it was very busy. I skipped out on Saturday as soon as I could to bike up to the budokan and take part in my first aikido class in Japan. I was about ten minutes late, so I slipped out of my shoes at the door, padded over to the office in my cold stockinged feet, and asked the young man at the desk "Aikido wa doko desu ka?" ("Where is the aikido?"). He showed me up the stairs to the second floor, and into a huge gymnasium with seats on either side. Half the floor was covered with mats and the other was bare, and the room was filled with people. There were several classes happening at once; lots of karate classes for children, and there were little boys and girls in karate gis running around the seats or lined up in rows mimicking the actions of their teachers. I picked out Heather at once, teaching one of the groups of kids; I haven't met her, but she was described to me as the only other blonde foreign woman taking classes at the budokan. There was also a group of adults practicing judo in the centre; the students were taking turns jabbing or pushing at their heavily padded partners. And in the furthest corner, distinguished by the hakama (long flowing black pants) most of them wore over their gis, was a small group of people practicing aikido. I didn't know what the situation was, so I sat down to watch. Their were six students and their teacher, a small, wiry man with a neatly trimmed goatee and a high, reedy voice. There were four men and three women, from their twenties to their fifties; all but the youngest man wore hakama, which (at least at home) means they had their black belts. I was immediately struck by how much they smiled as they practiced. The teacher and one of the women noticed me, and the woman came over. I have forgotten her name, but she was the woman Mayumi-sensei called on my behalf to ask if I could come. She was tall and slender, with excellent posture and a kind face. She spoke a little English, and welcomed me to get changed and practice. I came on to the mat, bowed to the front of the hall, warmed up and then teamed up with Chie (CHEE-AY), an older woman who works taking care of the elderly. We communicated in her broken English and my shattered Japanese. They were practicing a familiar move, although I don't know the name of it, and I felt comfortable very quickly, though out of practice. I wanted to do well, and not embarrass Halifax Aikikai back home, so I tried to be as accurate as possible. When we went on to other moves, the teacher practiced some with me, then encouraged me to watch the others as they practiced. Two of them, a younger woman and man, were doing different actions, and Chie said they were getting ready to test for another belt (at least I think that's what she said...). At the end, I was introduced to the rest of the class and then introduced myself as best I could. I will return on the 27th, and I'm very excited about it.

I went into the castle, determined to get some pictures from the top. The hawks were thick in the sky yesterday, but every time I pojnted a camera at them they disppeared. Big teases. Smaller birds twittered under cover in the trees, close to the ground, but the hawks seemed more interested in the river and fish than other birds. The castle is amazing inside. It is original (from 1607), so there were lots of warnings against smoking. Once again, I took off my shoes and put on slippers to explore. The steps were steep and the rooms large, with dark wood floorboards and beams and whitewashed walls. I think if I ever had the opportunity to build my own house, I would use the architectural details of the castle interior and other Asian dwellings as an inspiration; it's so simple and beautiful. Light came from streaks of daylight from the unshuttered windows to the south and illuminated display cases, showing suits of armour, helmets, swords, screens, tea sets and other paraphernalia from the time of castles. On the third floor there were miniature replicas of Matsue at different times in its history, from 1607 to the 1980's. The castle is called Chidori-jo, or Plover Castle, because the graceful curves of its eaves resemble a bird's wings. It is tipped on the highest roof with images of mythical creatures with the bodies of fish and the heads of tigers. I think they're to confer victory in battle, but I'm not sure; most castles in Japan have them. At the top of the castle, I could see all of Matsue spread out below. Looking south, I could see the downtown area and lake Shinji glimmering in the afternoon sun, and directly below me the curving hedges around the castle and Japanese tourists wandering the grounds. To the east, I could see Shimane University, my neighbourhood, the Messe and beyond that open plains and riverbanks where I think rice is grown. Northwards, the city thins out towards the mountains, and west, lots of residential areas.

Last night, I went to Kaya but it was dead. I chatted with Seiji for a while, and also saw Yumi, whom I met on New Year's Eve. She works in a call centre, and occasionally works the door at Naked Space. There's a famous Japanese DJ playing at Naked Space in two weeks. I was interested, but it's 3,500 yen (almost $35 bucks; forty at the door) and may already be sold out. So I don't know. I'm saving my money to see a bunraku show in March. Bunraku is Japanese puppetry using life-size, realistic puppets, with storylines similar to kabuki plots; historical dramas, ghost stories and tragic love stories. Most Japanese people that I've asked haven't seen bunraku themselves. I'm very curious.

I have a confession to make. Instead of immersing myself in Japanese traditional culture, as I could have been, I've been exploring a more modern part of their culture. That is to say, I spend a lot of time hanging out at the mall. Fortunately, I haven't spent a lot of money. But I go to SATY, the local shopping mecca, a lot. I have the excuse that I get my groceries there, and that it's one of the only places that is always open, holiday or not. But basically I'm just curious, and I can people-watch there, and it has a Mister Donut where I can sit and enjoy a coffee (when it's not too crowded; people love Mister Donut here). You can really notice the family-oriented nature of people in Japan; couples and families proliferate here. Little children stare at me curiously, and I smile back at them. The SATY name brand has a motto that makes me giggle: "have a regular life". I'm enjoying the whimsy of the English signage. The meaning is almost always clear; it's just the phrasing that can be surprising.