Time Rhythms

The windows drip with condensation almost everyday. The sky is still pitch black when the siren sounds at 6 a.m., alerting us all to the start of a new day. Then at 6:30 each morning, while I am making breakfast, I listen to the morning announcements being broadcast across the fields. Sometimes, I happen to glance down at my pink fingertips and giggle that I have chilblains from just simple daily life in my house. Yes, I have returned to Japan and full-blown winter is just a few days away.

Our little house is darling, sitting atop a small bend of a tiny ‘two car’ road. Almost all the boxes have been unpacked, items sorted and placed in their spots. Over the summer, we shipped out quite a few of our beautiful wedding gifts that were sitting in storage for the last four years. They are wonderful. Coffee makes itself in just four minutes. Another machine warms its tiny corner of the kitchen and produces delicious brown bread in three hours. And Craig no longer burns toast in the broiler because we have a real toaster. There are other little comforts that have appeared from America (including three large boxes of unread English books!) and we are settling in nicely. Our little garden out front is even putting out a bit of mizuna, lettuce and radish.

Despite thinking that my new life path of ‘housewife’ would be full of time to write, read and wander, this hasn’t proved to be true quite yet. My days are filled with taking Craig to work (if I have errands to run or friends to visit with), laundry, changing visa/address/name documents at every possible public office you could think of, grocery shopping, cleaning, cooking and picking up Craig again at about 6pm. “How did I ever work full time before?” I have caught myself thinking more than once. On the other hand, our house is much neater and our diet much more rounded out than it was before. And I don’t just need to sleep all weekend! I can take 8-mile walks instead.

The noon siren further defines the hours of my days, reminding me to stop for lunch. At three in the afternoon, the loudspeaker crackles yet again, and with four ascending notes on a xylophone, begins afternoon radio exercises. A song recorded in the fifties with simple piano accompaniment tinkles away, while a man instructs you how to stretch your body and counts off the beats- 1,2,3,4…5,6,7,8. Amusing in and of itself but as an extra chuckle, the neighbor’s dog doesn’t particularly like the music and upon hearing the xylophone cue, starts howling along. Rawhrooo…..over and over throughout the five minute long broadcast. It sounds like he is mourning the death of an old friend. You would think after how many days of the song playing, same time every day, he would be a bit used to it. Hilarious!

The final siren is at 6 p.m., kicking me into gear to finish final meal prep as Craig will return between 6:30 and 7. Just before our neighbors’ bedtimes, at eight o’clock, the evening announcements are broadcast and then the night is silent and dark. Last week, at about ten o’clock, I was startled by a noise outside. It was a car driving past our house. Yes, I live in the middle of nowhere. Cars on the road at ten p.m. scare me.

It is strange to think that for the first time in 23 years I don’t have to go to school everyday. I miss school. I find I have to try much harder to learn something new each day. My social interactions are limited: thank you’s at the stores, smiles and nods to the neighbors and never ending bursts of Japanese when I finally meet a friend for coffee or lunch! I have been working very part time (i.e. a half day a week) at a Christian high school Craig used to teach at. I teach three classes and the students bring me those smiles I miss so much. I am just getting to know the staff but hope to enjoy my time there. I am also in the process of trying to acquire some translation work for an educational materials company. My kanji skills are of course lacking but I am trying…we shall see. I am also presenting a few workshops for an ALT (assistant language teacher) training conference this week.

I just paused to watch the pine branches swaying in the cold wind and realized that small white bits are floating gently through the air. It is November 18th. The earliest we have ever seen snow in this part of Japan is the end of December. Maybe we should have been listening more carefully when everyone who hears we live in Yasaka now, shouts “OH! It snows A LOT there!” In our experience, people in this area overreact to snow. Having lived a few years through big snowstorms in Colorado, we have a slightly different image of what ‘snow’ means. Snow comes just a few times a year here and never in more than a few inches at a time. Yet it causes sheer chaos on the roads and schools sometimes shut down. So when we heard the comments about Yasaka we simply ignored them. We have been surprised by how much colder it has been over the last few weeks though (usually we don’t use the electric blanket at night on high until January) but I figured I was just adjusting to a breezier house (after my three months in the US). Apparently not. The flakes are not sticking but the ground is covered in a crusty clear white. And now, 15 minutes later, the sun is peeking out from behind the cumulus clouds and revealing bright blue patches of sky. Hmm…

I am excited recently because some of my dear college girlfriends and I are starting a book club. I have desperately wanted to have some discussion about the great things I read and learn but haven’t been able to find the right community in which to do so. When I was in Colorado this summer, Gretch and I decided to start one up, despite the fact that all of us are scattered about the globe. Check out our blog (our discussion forum) if you are interested-learnthinkgrowandlove . We are reading “The Master Butcher’s Singing Club” by Louise Erdrich first, a recommendation by a wonderful woman at The Tattered Cover. How I miss the Tattered Cover. That is where I would be on a day like today. All snuggled down in a corner, on a squishy sofa, with my new book, inhaling the smell of new pages. Our local bookstore, with its blaring J pop music, fluorescent lights, and video game screens flashing advertisements (it also rents DVDs, games and CDs), is just not the same.

I should probably stop typing and get back to thinking about my upcoming presentations. But it is much more fun to stare out the window and occasionally type some words on the screen. Write me a letter if you have time.