my glorious return to Shikoku

Yes, it is true i have returned, and from such a perilous mission. They sent me to Okayama on Honshu, which is the main island of this country. I had my orientation there and ended up staying overnight because of the typhoon, which apparently was so strong as to be big news here. On the news, they spotlighted a man whose purpose of employment was to open and close the train station doors for people, pushing heavily against the winds that vied to overcome him. My experience with typhoons is minute to put it mildly, and i must say that there was one casualty because of my haughtiness--the untimely death of the umbrella i brought, which, fortunately for me, was gratis.
It may be too late for explanations or realizations about the writing style of this journal, but i shall say it anyway. I believe the style may be too bookish for the journal's own good, but this is only because i have willed that myself, for whatever reason, and for good or evil, prosperity or ruin, apple or orange, smiley face or the negative parabolic smile of the sad face.
Himeji literally means "Princess Road". There is a large and formidable castle there, illuminated at night much like a New York skyscraper, surrounded by various moats and a small zoo on its grounds. On my third day there, i visited the castle grounds in the morning. The entire expanse is ruled by crows, and i could not tell if they were separate families. I pondered their complicated language that ranged from squawks and squeals to grumbles and hoarse shouts. There were also a number of stray cats that nonchalantly groomed themselves on the grass or crouched beside the bushes, oblivious to me and my wanderings. I did not enter the castle itself; i was content with viewing it from close-up. It was not a castle at all in the conventional European sense. No fortified battlements or spires and stone towers, but a large layered house with those curving Asian roofs, an unassuming structure of defense, but a self-explanatory structure of elegance and royalty. I imagined armies assaulting this castle with long spears and colorful regalia, and ninjas climbing around on the roof and dropping silently through the windows. I wonder if anything like that ever happened.
I watched a polar bear for a while from a distance in its cage in the zoo. Out of its element, its environment, its rightful place in the world. It lumbered back and forth from one side of its cage to the other, its head swinging and its gaze on the floor. When I returned to that viewing spot ten minutes later, an old man was there watching intently. After a little while, he turned to me and said something about it being a bear (kuma), and i said, "Hai, kuma." Then i said what i had been preparing to say, "Kanashi no you" (it looks sad). He kept smiling, though his expression changed, and nodded, and i think he understood. I then said, "Zannen desu yo" (its unfortunate). I was very pleased with myself for having communicated this. Throughout the course of my stay, I had small conversations with two natives, one a noodle stand man and the other a kid with a guitar who was singing songs in an alley with his friend. His friend played a sanshin (japanese guitar with three strings) and sang in an old fashioned Japanese and folky sort of way, something i enjoyed immensely after not hearing music for three days.
I wonder why i feel no desire to explain my training in depth, and rather choose to explain in considerate detail things that would seem somewhat trivial to others. Let us dwell on this.