Thursday, February 20, 2003

What I did today Today, I... Found out- to my huge embarrassment- that my photograph was to be on the front page of the town magazine; Wrote the March edition of the International Newsletter; Made the final corrections to my March newsletter article; Went to Kikuya for lunch; Translated some of the texts from the children in Miyanohara Elementary School; Went to Akizuki Elementary School for a quick run-through of the play with the whole school; Went across to Kure on the 7.30 ferry with Takedomi-kun, and had dinner with him and his mother, brother and brother's girlfriend in Wasabi; Caught the final ferry back and went to Takedomi-kun's geshuku for shochu and a final bowl of ramen.

Today is Takedomi-kun's last full day in Etajima. Tomorrow he leaves on the JMSDF warship (not supposed to call them that, but that's what they are) Inazuma, after graduating from the Officer Candidate School. This isn't the first time I've had a friend in the MOCS- indeed, my very best friends in Japan are graduates of Etajima- but the fact is that with all of them, I only know- I can only know- half of who they are. The friends I drink with on Friday nights, go to the onsen with, spend leisurely afternoons with, are young Japanese... but they're not. From Sunday evenings until Friday evenings, they live a completely different and separate life; they might be young Japanese, but they are also young Japanese training to be officers in the Japanese Maritime Self-Defence Force, and that sets them apart completely. The very fact of my friendships with these officer candidates means that to an extent I know what they do in the Naval Base, what their life is like, but nevertheless the fact remains that much of what they do, much of what goes on, is unexplained- unexplainable- to people unconnected with the military; it's so far out of my realm of experience that it is quite literally unimaginable. I know enough to respect my friends for the hardships they endure during their training, but this 'black hole' makes for a very strange friendship. I wish I knew more about my friends' life, I wish I could empathise, I wish I knew enough to be able to empathise... but I don't. And more to the point, I can't. For example, I know that this is Takedomi-kun's last day in Etajima; but what is he doing? How will his time here come to an end? How is he feeling?- I have no idea. Friendship to me is at least in part about camaraderie, about sharing the good times and the hard times, about reliance on one another, but with friends like Takedomi-kun, there is so much unshared, and furthermore unshareable. This doesn't ultimately negate the quality of the friendship, not one bit, I don't think, but there's no doubt that it changes the style, the substance, the circumstances. It's definitely not a 'normal' friendship- but then again, I'm not sure that it isn't better for this fact.

It only snows at the most once or twice in a year here, and by the end of February it's normally safe to assume we've seen the last of the snow. Not so this year- today, we had not just one but two blizzards! The snow didn't even begin to settle, but nevertheless it was an unusual occurrence. (Takedomi-kun told me that he'd been clearing fallen leaves during the blizzard... rather him than me!)

On my way to Akizuki, I noticed three warships in the bay. Not an unusual occurrence at all- but these warships have a special significance. They're the warships for tomorrow's graduation ceremony; the Officer Candidates will march out from the red-brick Seitokan, on to the pier, and board launches to take them to their ships- these ships- and away from Etajima. I like the sight of warships in Etajima Bay, but viewed in this light, it's difficult to find much to enjoy about the scene today- these warships are, after all, the concrete manifestation of the fact that tomorrow, a good friend ceases to be in the same town as me.

My single lesson in Akizuki today went well. The whole school practiced 'The Glove', the English play they're performing in two weekends' time, together for the first time. Given that it was the first time, the rehearsal didn't go too badly, although- as ever- the children had failed to take notice of everything I'd corrected (about their pronunciation, etc.) during the previous lesson. The lower years, for example (and I blame this on the first-year teacher) were still under the impression that the final word of a question had to be about eight octaves higher than the rest of the sentence, and spun out to about six times its normal length. Of course I corrected them again, but I am under no illusions that they'll take my advice on board and change the way they pronounce their lines. We'll see, though- although they only have one more practice with me before the performance itself, so there's no longer much time for them to be able to change their bad habits.

J-List Japan's 10 highest mountains Fuji-san (3776m) Kita-dake (3192m) Hodaka-dake (3190m) Yariga-dake (3180m) Arakawa-dake (3141m) Akaishi-dake (3120m) Ontake-san (3067m) Shiomi-dake (3052m) Senjo-dake (3033m) Norikura-dake (3026m)