the prelude

At this point, i thought my exciting Tokushima adventures were over, and that the only prospective adventures i could have would be in other places in Japan. How wrong i was! Last night was a party to both welcome new teachers and to wish away another one back to Canada, though he did not show due to a so-called illness. I met the new teachers, that had just arrived in the country some days ago, with a burst of unexpected energy as i marched into the private room of the izakaya (bar/restaurant) that was reserved for us. Just previously i had been drinking cups of tea and coffee at Gasto (fake diner) with Yuuki as we chatted about languages, the bizarreness of the girls in our little friend circle, and various unimportances. I struggled trying to speak to him in his language, and eventually made a deal that i would speak English and he could speak Japanese. It worked splendidly. We could both speak naturally and mostly understand each other. The drink bar at Gasto is all you can drink, and i have come to the conclusion that they never had experience with Jewish customers before. Naturally, i always take advantage of the situation with as little shame as i can manage. Needless to say, i was pumped full of caffeine and eager to engage in buffoonery by the time i reached the izakaya. I sat myself down next to a fuzzy-faced Canadian girl and immediately began to barrage her with inane chatter. When she introduced herself, she stroked the fuzz on her face as if to say, 'Yes, we both know i have quite a fuzzy face, and i am not ashamed.' I confessed to her that i wanted to move to Canada in my later years, and live on a farm and grow fruits in the spring and preserve them in jars for the winter, and during the winter eat the preserves on toast. I told her this with the straightest of faces and i also mentioned that only a Canadian could understand this dream of mine. I think this is when she began to fear me, and she tried desperately to reduce the conversation to a minimum, and eventually turned away and didn't speak to me for the rest of the night. But before this, i managed to tell her openly about my contempt for Australians and their habit of inventing slang on the spot and claiming that it is something Australians say every day. We were of course surrounded by Australians, and this made her very uncomfortable because i said it quite loud. After this social blunder, i began to drink sake and eat the foods they served--this was a "nomihodai", which means all you can drink, but unlike at Gasto, i drank only sake. Unfortunately, i drank more sake than i should have, and didn't realize this until it was too late. I was past the stage of cheery drunkenness and into the stage of blank staring to try and forget the spinning. I managed to stumble outside and walk home, being thankful i did not foolishly take my bike, and i finally got to collapse into bed. In the middle of the night i awoke and sat up, not knowing what was happening exactly. This is where our adventure begins.