I thought I would guide you through a typical day for me in Matsue. Be aware, this is only intended for the truly devoted or insomniac. This, in a nutshell, is Wednesday, February 7.

8:00 – I jump up from my futon and stumble to the dresser to slap the snooze button on my alarm clock. Reel back to bed and wrap myself in the cozy warmth of my blankets. Try to remember my dreams…

8:05 – Hit the alarm again. A snooze function that goes off every FIVE minutes? Why not a more reasonable nine or ten? Who’s designing these things? I note the temperature (an unusual and useful function of this clock, and one of the reasons I bought it, besides the fact that it is shaped like a die) Brrr… Go back to bed.

8:10 – Hit the snooze button. Carry the alarm clock back to bed and curl up with it. Smack it repeatedly when it cheeps.

8:35 – hit the alarm for the seventh time and turn it off. Observe rare sunlight creeping through the balcony door. Look at the ceiling. Think shallow thoughts. Finally roll out of bed (literally) onto the floor. Put on my jogging clothes.

8:45 – Out the door. Yesterday I ran north, to Shimane University. Today I go west, towards the lake. It is a beautiful morning, with a slight golden haze on the river to my left and a bluish mist on the mountains to my right. I run past the Messe and cross in front of UFO, one of the local pachinko parlours. (I haven’t tried pachinko yet; I’m not a big fan of gambling or casinos, or random incessant noise for that matter, and pachinko just sounds like a cheap way to lose a lot of money, if you know what I mean.) The parking attendants on duty there interrupt their chat to wish me “ohayo gozaimasu” (good morning) and then, in English, “Good morning!” and “Have a nice day!” I smile and wave, wishing them, “ohayo gozaimasu!” right back. I run along a street close to the river, enjoying the day. I haven’t been running much, so my shins are sore, but I feel good. This street is not very inspiring, for the most part. I run past Joyhouse BIG! (another pachinko parlour) and DeoDeo (electronics) and into an area of big, cheaply constructed apartment buildings and bland, flat-fronted houses. Houses in Japan are for the most part cheaply made and replaceable; many are torn down completely when the land is sold and the new owners start over from scratch. Weathered wood, concrete, glass and plaster are the most popular building materials, while most of the roofs are covered with red, blue or black tile. Down shadowed alleys and behind gray concrete walls are little hints and glimpses of secret gardens and cool green places, but they are well hidden from the casual passer-by. Some householders dress up their doorways with tubs of plants and flowers. At four-way street corners, small drinking establishments (called aka-chochin because of the red lamps hanging above the entranceways) and tiny restaurants are clustered; the restaurants often have stone lamps, little boxed gardens, and kanji characters carved or painted on rocks or wood obelisks probably of Shinto significance, adding some colour and mystery to this concrete strip.

At the third bridge, the street changes. Part of it is closed to traffic, and boutiques, cafes, antique stores and clubs thrive here. The street is cobbled with red brick, and plants and trees line the sidewalk. I have entered the area between the lake and the castle, a popular tourist area in the summer. (This place is going to be busy in the summer; the attractive sand-coloured hotels on the north shore of the lake remind me that this is a summer resort town). I stop to observe a small shrine with a grinning stone dwarf swinging a hammer. As I look at it in puzzlement, a man sets a small wooden box of white papers in front of it. Possibly, passers-by are supposed to write a request of the god and leave it here, in hopes that their wish will be noticed and granted. I smile politely at the man and continue on, past Italian restaurants, sake shops, tiny little tailors’ shop fronts and clothing stores. I swing north on the way home, crossing one of the numerous canals and pausing to admire the castle high on its hill catching the morning sun. It is a breath-taking sight, and one I wish I could show people. I’m not as impressed with the life-size fibreglass Colonel Saunders standing in front of the KFC near Kita Park. I run through the park on the way home, crossing the pedestrian bridge over another canal and stopping for a second to look at the mountains again.

9:40 – “Home again, home again, jiggedy-jig”. I shower and have my breakfast (Western-style: toast, fried egg, tea with milk, yoghurt, and a Mandarin orange) kneeling at my kotatsu to keep my legs warm. I am finishing The Collected Dorothy Parker, borrowed from the Shimane International Centre’s small library of English books. It is really great. I am now reading her drama and book reviews. She loved Hemingway, hated Kerouac, and pronounced vehemently that A.A.Milne (creator of Winnie-the-Pooh) made her throw up. Her short stories are really good; I like them better than her poetry. I think about doing some Japanese homework, but don’t. I’m not feeling very motivated about learning Japanese these days. It’s such a huge task, and I just find it hard to start. But I’m still just barely getting by, and to have any amount of independence I need to be able to communicate on my own.

12:15 – Get to work, walking today and leaving my faithful two-wheeled steed at home. I arrive at our AEON Ekimae office (“ekimae” means “in front of the train station”) in time to collect my textbooks, supplements and language CDs and travel with Nozu-san, the assistant manager, to the Shimadai Mae office (“in front of Shimane University”). Nozu-san, or Mayumi Nozu, is about twenty-six, and her English isn’t great, so our conversation is limited and I have to remember to speak slowly. She has been getting over a cold for about two weeks now. I’ve been lucky to avoid getting sick (knock on wood), but I’ve been having a lot of trouble with my eyes. The skin around them is dry and red and painful, so it’s hard not to rub them, and my eyes have been red, too, so I’ve been wearing my glasses instead of contacts. I’m awfully self-conscious about it. Melanie told me that something similar happened to her when she first came. I think it’s a combination of the new climate and job stress.

1:00pm – The Shimadai Mae office opens for business. I have a check test with Yasutaka, a student at the university. He is in the middle of midterms, and very tired. We go over grammar and vocabulary, then practice the dialogue; it takes about 12 minutes. Then I have a Discovery group lesson (the second level) with two students, Keiko, who had me over for lunch a few weeks ago, and Akiko, a quiet, unconfident young housewife who is now about five months pregnant. Then I have a lot of time, because my next class is cancelled. I go to Mister Donut for lunch, of course; you can’t throw a rock without hitting a Mister Donut in this town (I prefer throwing a rock to swinging a cat; less cruel, really). Sitting in the bright orange room, looking around at the television ads playing on the cash register screens and listening to George Michael on the speakers (Mister Donut has signed some sort of devil’s deal with George Michael; most of the times I come in, he is playing…), I have surprisingly tasty corn chowder and a warm, gooey ham and cheese biscuit. And a donut filled with chocolate custard. And a free refill of my coffee; all for 650 yen. Not bad. A cute little guy sitting next to me, aged about three and with dark, soulful eyes, is clutching his head in a pose like Munsch’s “The Scream” as he waits for his mum. Soon he is wearing a villainous little brown moustache from eating a chocolate donut. Having a brand-new nephew has made me very aware of other people’s babies.

Back at the office, I find myself in the unusual position of not having much to do. I am ahead on class prep, and all of supplements are at the other office. I fiddle with my engagement planner and go over my evening classes again, and photocopy stuff every once in a while so Nozu-san will know I’m working.

6:00pm – Three classes in a row, from 6pm to 9pm. The first is Take Off, my lowest-level grammar class. It’s very structured, with lots of supplements, so it goes okay. The three biggest problems Japanese students have are plurals (which don’t exist in the Japanese language), using “a”, “an”, and “the” (ditto) and “he/she” (ditto), so I have to gently correct those mistakes, plus whatever grammar point we are exploring (today it is using “like to”, “want to”, “hope to” and “need to”). Then, I have Voyage, the first level group lesson and my biggest class. It’s sometimes a painful experience for me, as the students (mostly university students) blink silently up at me as I explain the exercises. The younger AEON students are far more conservative than the older ones about talking and enjoying themselves in class, and they are less confident about their English as well. Add to this an extremely self-conscious new student, a woman in her fifties who is very unhappy about being so much older than her classmates, and it is a long class. Viewpoint, my last class, is much better. The students are more advanced and I like two of them a lot. Aya is a bright-eyed, stylish girl in her twenties who has a lot of fun with the exercises, and Mayumi (another Mayumi; I now know five Mayumi’s) is a new teacher at Amity, the children’s division of AEON. The third, Junko, is a housewife in her fifties and she can be a little tiresome; she’s very negative, and sighs a lot, and her stories are a little long. But she only comes every two weeks.

9:30 – Once the last students leave, we gather up our things and drive back to Ekimae, sore feet and all. Wednesdays are usually the longest days for me. I get back, record the attendance for my classes, check off Yasutaka’s check test on the chart, and sit down to do some prep for tomorrow. I’m in good shape, so I decide not to stay too long. Everyone else is ready to leave early too, for a change; Ryoko-san, Nozu-san and Mayumi-sensei, the head teacher, often stay till past 11:30, having a meeting to review the day’s events, plan for upcoming deadlines and do prep. Ryoko offers to drive me home (she’s noted the hours I’m putting in, and I think she’s concerned about my health), but I haven’t been to Kaya in a while and I want an after-work beer, so I politely decline and head over to the bar.

10:15 - The sign is off, but I tap at the door. A guitar lesson is just finishing – Seiji, Kaya’s proprietor, and his friends Reiko and Kaoru have a group lesson with their teacher, plus Aki and Colin, like myself, have dropped by. As Seiji turns on the sign and opens Kaya for business, I greet Aki and tell him how much I’m looking forward to The Disco at Hydro Reaction on Saturday – he, Seiji and Reiko are all DJ’s. Then I sit down with Colin, who is a little drunk, and congratulate him on his upcoming marriage. He looks startled; he is not getting married, though his girlfriend wants to. I misunderstood something someone told me. It’s not an uncommon thing these days; I’m getting used to it. Colin is a teacher with JET, the Japan English Teaching program. He’s pretty sick of it after three years, and is planning to return home to Toronto this summer. He says he doesn’t feel like he’s making a difference here. We talk shop a bit. He’s a burly, bald guy with a good sense of humour, and I’m delighted to have a conversation at full-speed with someone for a change. Kaoru joins us for a bit, and we talk with her in Japanese and English for a while. I’m glad I came; I get tired of my sometimes solitary existence. I walk home a little while later, and hit my bed by 1am.

So that’s a day in the life. If you are still awake, I promise I’ll be a little more interesting next time. If you have a minute, please drop me a line as well. I’d love to hear from you. Take care; I’m thinking of you all.

Love,

Sarah