Goodbye Nyu High School!

So today was the big one. After weeks of goodbye party after goodbye party today it was time for possibly the most difficult goodbye of all - saying goodbye to my school. 

It's been a fun 2 years at Nyu. There's been ups and downs for sure, but I don't think I've ever had a job as rewarding as this one. It can be crushing when you have a day of bad classes, but the euphoria of creating and teaching a successful lesson is worth everything. It's the kids that really make it. Like the crazy bunch who accosted me for a photo this morning. 

Mad lot.

I know I've moaned about the job in the past, but I can safely say that it's the best job I've ever had. The teachers have been fantastic, the students have been fantastic... why am I going home again? Oh yeah, that's right, I want to be a journalist. Now why would I want to go and do a stupid thing like that?

So today was the official end of term at school - and I had to give a goodbye speech. In Japanese. I wasn't particularly worried about it actually, since I'd worked out the speech ages ago and gone through it thoroughly with my Japanese teacher, but when I walked into the school gym for the closing ceremony something went horribly wrong. Why were my hands trembling? Why was I biting my lip? Why couldn't I look anyone in the eye? Shit, I knew this was going to happen - I was about to break down in tears like a big girl's blouse.

I just about managed to hold it together as I walked up on the stage with the headmaster. He made a short little speech saying thank you and we shook hands and everything was fine. Then it all went pear-shaped. Midori from the tea ceremony club walked up on the stage and started reading a speech to me in English, saying thank you for my fun lessons and thank you for coming to tea ceremony club, and then she started sniffling and that got me sniffling too, and before too long she was struggling to get through the speech and I was wiping the tears away like a man who's just caught his crown jewels in the cash register.

By the time it came for me to give my own speech I was a wreck. I was blubbing more than Gwyneth Paltrow at the Oscars. God knows what everyone was thinking - most embarrassing moment ever? Possibly, but at least I wasn't the only male ALT to have a decidedly unmanly moment on stage, having just read about Sam's waterworks on his blog. Man, giving that speech was hard. To top off all the unmanliness I was given the biggest bouquet of flowers I've ever seen - yes, I really did feel like Gwyneth Paltrow at the Oscars. 

This is my desk. Bye desk!

Anyway, the last couple of weeks at school have been great. I was getting a bit stressed with all the things I had to organise before leaving (selling my car, cleaning out my house, etc etc), but I really enjoyed giving my last few goodbye lessons. The very last one in particular was really special. Flick and I arranged to do joint lessons at each other's schools: I went to her very last lesson at Takefu High School a couple of weeks ago, and she came to my last lesson at Nyu last week. It was a great lesson - we did a quiz and the students were really excited to finally meet my girlfriend! It was a really, really nice way to end my time teaching in Japan. I guess teaching's not so bad after all... 

So yeah, it's all getting a bit emotional at the moment. My house is looking pretty sad and empty right now - the other night I finally took down my Japan map. I put up the map about a year and a half ago when I was feeling pretty depressed about how little I seemed to have done in Japan after being here for six months. I decided to stick pins in all the places I'd visited and stick photos next to them, and suddenly I realised that I had done quite a bit after all. Since then the number of pins and photos has grown and grown, to the point where I was running out of wall space. Taking it all down really brought home to me that my time in Japan is actually coming to an end. 

Yep, I'm really going to miss Japan. One thing I won't miss though is my nemesis: katsuoboshi. These dried fish flakes (I think they're called bonito in English) seem to find their way into absolutely every food dish in Japan. Truly, they are the vegetarian's worst nightmare. Mostly because most waiters and waitresses don't seem to register that they're actually fish, even if I emphatically explain that I don't eat fish or meat. Hence, ordering a bowl of plain soba still results in a fish-sprinkle nightmare.

Katsuoboshi aside though, I can't begin to list the myriad things that I'm going to miss when I go back home to England in exactly a week's time (so soon!). I think the biggest thing I'm going to miss is the feeling that somehow every day is an adventure - you never know what bizarre thing will await you round the next corner.

For example, when I was driving round this morning I spotted a radio-controlled crop-dusting helicopter. Brilliant. Truly, everything in Japan is in miniature. Check out the operator's Tom Cruise-style silver Ray-Bans too - now there's a man who takes his job seriously. I wonder if he realised what he was getting into when he applied for a job advertised as "helicopter pilot"?

I'm also available for weddings, bar mitzvahs...

The ALT leaving ceremony took place last Friday, and old muggins here was roped into giving the after-dinner speech - a task which seemed simple enough until I actually started trying to write it.  Have you ever tried writing a speech? It's bloody hard, I can tell you. Anyway, Angela and I eventually managed to come up with a half decent bit of prose (Angela was giving the speech with me) and we sent it off to the board of education for translation, but we were dismayed when it was sent back with about a third of it missing: It had been decided that the speech would have been far too long to translate, and that some of the cut sections may have been deemed "offensive".

I was pretty annoyed at the time, considering how hard we worked on the speech, but in the end I think it was a good idea to shorten it - it lasted just about the right amount of time, and both me and Angela were given lots of compliments on how well it went. However, I was quite fond of some of the sections that got chopped out, and it seems a shame that no-one ever got to hear them, so here, just for you, is our closing speech reprinted in its entirety:

Lasts

By Lewis Packwood and Angela Lehn

Lewis: So here we are. The very last official JET function. The last time we'll be treated to free booze and food by our wonderful employers. The last time we will have the opportunity to gaze upon the shining beacon of manhood that is Mr. Mizutani. Truly, this is a sad occasion.

Angela: We were welcomed into this country with a raised glass of free beer and now we've come to our last. I know I will definitely miss my last kampai, my last nomihoudai. Taking the last sip from my glass, emptying it to find no more friends left to refill it. I will miss my last free drink paid for by my job, them freely helping me to intoxicate myself …..to then wake up at four in the morning on a Katamachi street bench, alone, with no shoes, no money, no I.D., no self-respect, no dignity, no clue how to get to Chris Hall's damn apartment… only to crawl in the freaking kitchen window at the very same time the door opens after twenty minutes of drunken pounding. Yeah, I'll miss that free beer.

L: It's all "lasts" now isn't it? The last time I do this, the last time I do that… It's not all bad of course – I'm quite looking forward to the last time I have to drive into Fukui city for example. I'm not saying that Fukui drivers are bad, I'm just concerned that they may be too busy watching TV or doing their make up to even notice that they're actually driving. As one of my fellow JETs observed: "It's easier driving in New York city than driving in Fukui. At least in New York drivers do their best to avoid you. In Fukui it feels like they're actually aiming for you."

A: I know I won't miss my last garbage pick-up. The tri-weekly garbage days when I guiltily walk my trash to the metal cage in the parking lot, hoping not to run into any neighbor, being or animal alike surely to condemn me and my horribly separated trash. I won't miss that last walk to the metal cage to find my thrown out food scraps left behind just because I happened to double bag it because the green food scrap bag always leaks all over my garbage can and stinks up my apartment, but they don't want it like that because it's not following the rules, and it's rotting and growing things that even a raccoon would turn up its nose at. I truly fear I will cause the largest maggot infestation my neighborhood has ever seen. Even after Jesse Green lived there  I won't miss saving up my recyclables to only realize I missed the month's date and a midnight run to Family Mart would surely be seen as suspicious since I had already stopped there twice before for milk and ice cream, and heaven knows I don't need any more ice cream…... No, I won't miss my last garbage day at all.

L: These kinds of lasts are definitely in the minority though. Most lasts are like the last I had the other day. It was the last time I saw my Japanese teacher, Mrs. Kinoshita. Mrs. Kinoshita is great. I'm a terrible, terrible Japanese student, but my weekly visits to Mrs. K have been one of the highlights if my JET career. She's just so damn nice! She's taught me so much interesting Japanese too – check this:

(Aside to Mr. Mizutani) "Mo kari makka?"

(Mizutani replies) "Bouchi bouchi desu wa."

(Lewis replies) "So da na."

See what I mean? I'm not too proud to say that I was actually in tears as I said goodbye to Mrs. K for the last time. I'm sure most of you have probably been through something similar recently with your teachers.

A: As for me I'll miss my last autograph signing: the last time hoards of elementary students rush to my desk with all their worldly possessions for me to sign. I'll miss the last scrap of paper, the last notebook, the last ruler, the last stajiki, the last book, hand and even the last arm. Never will I be more famous. I'm almost positive Tom Cruise has never signed a stajiki. But I have. Lots. I'm going to miss all that attention, that rock-star like fame that can drive you crazy and at the very same time make you feel like the luckiest and most important person in the world. I'm going to miss that last gasp of breath, that last " I-na" or "Kawa-ii" for just doing something that to you, may be quite trivial, or quite normal, but most of all I'll miss that last "sign kudasai", the last autograph.

L: Then there's the last time I'll get money out of a Fukui Bank ATM. I just love that little lady that bows to you when you take your cash. When was the last time an ATM bowed to you in your country? Never. Other lasts… It's going to be a sad day when I eat my last bowl of convenience store soba too. I love that stuff. And I've become strangely addicted to the mysterious "Third Way" beer as well. No-one seems to know exactly where it comes from – it just has something to do with peas and it's cheap. I've even started liking natto, much to the delight and amusement of my peers.

A: As much as we might find it odd, uncomfortable, annoying or even at times meaningless I will miss my last bow. This is the only place where a simple bend at the waist, one single movement, can truly mean so much. A thank you, an excuse me, a humbling apology, an offering, a welcoming, an agreement, and of course, a goodbye. Its been a long year with many bows, many ups and downs, and head bobs in between but now as I say goodbye, I bow knowing I can convey a feeling probably better than I can say it, especially since I don't speak Japanese. So, everyone, take your final bow with care. This is the one thing that says so much without you saying a word.

L: Of course, the big last for everyone here will be the last time you go to your school. Are you looking forward to giving your closing ceremony speech in Japanese? I can't wait for mine – I just know I'm going to balls it up fantastically. It may surprise you to learn that, despite the patient teaching of the wonderful Mrs. K, my Japanese isn't actually that good. Like the time one of the teachers at school asked me how my trip to Tokyo for the recontracting conference was. I was trying to explain to him that Tokyo seemed a lot more crowded after I'd lived in Fukui for so long. The sentence I meant to say was: "Tokyo niwa hito ga ippai imasu ne?" (There are a lot of people in Tokyo, aren't there?). What I actually said was: "Tokyo niwa hito ga oppai imasu ne?" (There are a lot of breasts in Tokyo, aren't there?). He paused, looked me up and down for a few seconds, and then said: "Haaaaaaiiiiiii." (Long, dirty, drawn-out "hai")

L: Anyway, the goodbye speech at school is going to be the big one. It's going to be sad enough saying goodbye to all the teachers, but I know I'm really going to miss the students most of all. In my last week of lessons each of my students wrote me a goodbye letter, and reading through them all was heart-breaking, not to mention surprising. Here are some of the things they said:

"I liked your guitar playing and sideburns."

"I think you are every bit a gentleman. You are always smile. I have no remember you get angry at us. I love you. Goodbye for now."

"I don't forget you and you don't forget Nyu High School. Your face is like for Beckham. England is good country. I want to go to there. I'll meet you again. You should take care of your sideburns."

(Those sideburns again)

"Goodbye Lewis, I'm very miss you. So, please stay here a little. But, I think it impossible. You are forever my ALT!"

Gotta love those kids.

A: Students aside though, probably the worst goodbye is going to be saying goodbye to you lot. In Fukui we're blessed to have a really close-knit group of ALTs, but unfortunately that makes saying goodbye all the more difficult and painful. You're fantastic, all of you, and it's been an honour and a privilege for us to know you. Thank you. "Sayonara" is too formal and final a word. Let's end this speech with a far less formal phrase that implies the hope of meeting again. A phrase that means the same in English as in Japanese:

Together: "SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!"

On a more positive note...

I liked the comment on the last post about how "Jaded?" would have made a fine end to An Englishman In Nyu Gun - but I can't let that happen... not just yet anyway. Of course, since my time in Japan is almost up (5 weeks to go - how time flies!) the lifespan of this blog is nearly over, but there's still loads of things I've been wanting to post but haven't had the time to write about.

One of the things I wanted to talk about was teaching my students. In my last post I talked about how I've gotten really tired of teaching, but at the same time that doesn't mean it still isn't fun. OK, so it takes an enormous effort of will to drag myself to school in the morning, and thinking up lesson plans isn't the walk in the park that it used to be, but the actual lessons themselves can be pretty good fun.

One of my favourites was one I did a few weeks ago. I'm always trying to think up of ideas for lessons that the kids can enjoy, or at least to show them something new, and one of the great things about my school is that they pretty much let me try anything. In the past I've done lessons on everything from Antonio Gaudi to The Fantastic Four to the War in Yugoslavia to Doraemon (a cartoon robot cat from the future). I even did a lesson where students filmed adverts in English using Star Wars figurines - one group had a great one where Greedo was tricked into buying expensive ramen from a disreputable noodle shop, which was followed by a sign saying "BEWARE OF FRAUD".

Anyway, I was sat in the loo, thinking about what to teach the next day (all men do their best thinking in the toilet) and my eyes came to rest on my posable Astro Boy figurine. I should point out that my toilet is full of toys - I'm at the age now where I think I shouldn't really be fascinated by toys, but I still love having them around. I'm a bit too embarrassed to keep them in plain view though, so I've shoved them all in the toilet, along with a Doctor Who poster of a Dalek wearing a Santa Claus beard (a Christmas decoration I grew too attached to to take down).

"Astro Boy!" I thought, "Brilliant!"

So the next day I did a bit of research and came up with a lesson based on the history of Astro Boy, followed by a "finish the story" exercise. I told the kids that Astro Boy was flying over Nyu High School when he heard a student in trouble. He turned round and saw a monster. It was... and the students had to write what happened. Of course, I took in my Astro Boy figurine too to help illustrate the story, which went down a treat with the kids. See? Toys are brilliant. You can never be too old for toys.

Anyway, I got some cracking work back from the class. They ranged from the righteous:

"It was... false Astro Boy. He was as strong as Astro Boy. But, he didn't have heat of justice. So, true Astro Boy won. The student said "thank you"."

To the disturbing:

"It was... very angry strange man. He loves young girl. He was nude. But he wore hi socks."

To the tragic:

"It was... A Huge Devil Man. It destroyed a school. It took students in Devil World. Atomu went to Devil World and killed a Devil Man. Everyone camed back real world. However Atomu wasn't here."

To the heart warming:

"It was... giant ant!! But it was not evil. Very kind. Everyone became friend with giant ant. Happy end."

Not every class goes perfectly, and not every lesson plan works, but when it does...  I guess what I'm trying to say is, teaching in a Japanese high school can be stressful and frustrating, but there are some days when it all just clicks... days when I think about how much I'm really going to miss my students when I leave. 

One of the advantages of teaching is that it has allowed me to perfect my blackboard doodling technique. Here's the classic "Lewis-zilla vs. Astro-boy" from a lesson a few weeks back.

Jaded?

A few people have emailed me to ask if I'm feeling a bit jaded with Japan. My initial answer was "No! Of course not! I love Japan! I even have a T-shirt that says 'Japan Rocks'. Yay Japan!", but then I had a look back over the last few posts I'd written for my blog and I realised they were all really negative. If you compare them to the stuff I was writing a year and a half ago there's a whole world of difference.

So when I thought about it, I realised that maybe everything isn't as rosy as I think it is. Maybe I am jaded. I never thought I'd feel like this about Japan ("Yay Japan!") but I actually can't wait to leave. I've done pretty much everything I came here to do - I've climbed a volcano in Hokkaido, saw humpback whales in Okinawa, watched the sunset from a European mansion in Nagasaki, hung out with the kids in Harajuku, boarded down Olympic ski runs in Nagano, stayed in a capsule hotel in Osaka and visited the Golden Temple in Kyoto. Almost the only thing left on the list is to visit Hiroshima, which will be the last big trip before I leave.

I've done some amazing stuff, but now it's time to call it a day. My job is really getting me down, to the point where I'm finding it harder and harder to drag myself out of bed every morning to go to work, and I desperately need a change. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the teachers or kids at my school - I just don't want to teach any more. Teaching has been fun, considering it's something I vowed never to go into 6 years ago, but I've been doing it long enough now to realise that it's definitely not something I'd like to be doing for the rest of my life. The pressure of thinking up new lesson plans week after week is just getting too much, and I've been feeling totally run down for the past few weeks. Even the teachers at school have told me that I look tired, and not in that nice phrase that Japanese people use when they actually mean "you've been working hard".

It doesn't help that every spare minute of my day is taken up with organising stuff to do with leaving - whether its emailing people about selling stuff, working out travel plans or just clearing up my house. It never seems to end.

So anyway, yes, I am feeling a little jaded I guess, but I feel a bit better for having written all this stuff down. Rant over.

The Crow of Death

Have you ever played Resident Evil? Do you remember the crows in the first game? You'd enter a room and they'd all be sat there, waiting. A few would be croaking and cawing to one another. Occasionally one would ruffle its feathers. They seemed menacing, yet harmless as long as they stayed where they were. After a while you'd forget about them and carry on doing whatever you were meant to be doing in that room. Which is just what they want you to do...

As soon as you let your guard down... THEY ATTACK!!! Before you know it you've had your eyes pecked out and it's back to the typewriter.

Well, I've been living through my own personal Resident Evil for the past few weeks. I think I've mentioned before that crows tend to gather in the trees along the road on my walk home from school. They always seemed menacing, but I haven't had any trouble out of them. Until now that is...

It always happens just as I'm passing the graveyard at the bottom of the hill - a lone crow will silently divebomb me from behind. The first thing I know about it is the WHOOSH of wings beating inches away from my ears, causing me to duck instinctively. Then the crow will perch on a tree further down the road, watching me, and waiting until I pass by so it can divebomb me again. It only ever does it from behind: if I turn round and see it in time it pulls up from the attack dive and waits for me to turn around again. It's bloody scary, I can tell you. I mean, this is no pigeon - this thing has a wingspan of nearly a metre. I've taken to walking home backwards, it's gotten so bad.

The most likely explanation I can come up with as to why it's trying to attack me is that it must have a nest nearby which it's trying to protect. I read in the paper today that crows can become "stressed" at this time of year because they're raising their young, and they may even take to gnawing on fibre optic phone cables as a way of relieving the tension from "work". Perhaps I look like a giant stress ball to this one crow... Although the explanation I prefer is that this crow is actually pure evil incarnate, and as such I have nicknamed it "The Crow of Death". Damn you Crow of Death!!! Vengeance shall be mine!!!!

The weird thing is, hundreds of students from my school walk up and down that hill, and I've never seen the crow attack any of them, yet it attacks me every day. I just don't get it... Maybe it's going for my bald spot - I've heard crows like shiny things. Or perhaps it's just a goddamn racist crow. Ooooooh, how I hate racist crows. 

Here's the bugger. Sitting... waiting... interminably waiting...

Lewis the fashion anarchist

It's the first of June today, which means it's the start of summer uniform at school - the kids don't have to wear their blazers to class, and teachers are permitted to throw off their jackets and ties in favour of the casual open-necked shirt look.

Of course, no one told me. This morning I came to school dressed in my usual snazzy tie and jacket combo only to discover dress-down-day-a-rama happening in the staff room. To be fair, I should have known it was coming - after all I've been here for two years now, and it's always on the same day - but then again that would mean me actually knowing what day it is when I turn up to school, and at that time of the morning I can barely put one foot in front of the other until I've had my second cup of coffee, let alone decipher complicated devices such as calendars.

What is it with these rigid changeover dates in my school anyway? It's like how they never turn the heaters on before December 1st, no matter how cold it gets. Six months ago I remember sitting in this exact same chair typing emails whilst wearing gloves and a coat - it was that cold in the staff room. Why couldn't they choose a date based on the actual weather conditions outside? I bet if there was a freak snowstorm outside right now they'd still expect everyone to come to school without a jacket. As it happens, the sun's blazing down out there, but that's beside the point.

Anyway, like I said, all the male teachers ditched their tie and jacket today - it seems that summer uniform is more compulsory than optional. Suddenly I was faced with a stark decision: Do I take off my tie to blend in with the crowd? I thought about the agonising 30 seconds I'd spent in front of the mirror this morning trying to figure out what tie would go best with this shirt (yes, yes, I know, I'm vain), and I hated the idea of ripping off that carefully chosen neck garment just because THE MAN had dictated it. To hell with the rules! I'm wearing my tie, and I'm proud! None of this louche open-necked shirt business for me - I'm an English gentleman, dammit! It's my right to look sharp at all times, and no one can take that away from me! Spread the word - comfort is out, dapperness is in! Down with polo necks! Up with Windsor knots!

JOIN THE TIE REVOLUTION!!! WEAR A TIE!!!

And if anyone asks why you're wearing I tie when you don't have to, simply reply: "Because, sir, I like it."

Here's me rocking the tie in the photocopier room. Gentleman of the world unite - refuse to lay down your ties!

Stop it! You're going to kill him!

Horie-sensei is 60 years old, and about to retire. He's been with Nyu High School for over twelve years, and he's one of the most popular and well-known teachers on the staff. He's famous for wearing a sports jacket instead of a suit, and his zero-tolerance policy towards umbrella thieves is respected and feared for miles around. His side-parting is legendary.

So what better way to celebrate his long years of service than by throwing him towards the ceiling. Twelve times in a row.

The scene was the annual Nyu High School Welcome/Farewell Party, held every April for the benefit of newly arriving teachers and those about to depart. The enkai (office party) was a fairly usual affair as far as these things go - it began with formal speeches and polite applause, but as time wore on, and the participants became more and more inebriated, the formality slipped away to be replaced by a sort of semi-organised bedlam. I think the apex of this polite chaos may have been the point when the school music teacher was asked to lead the staff in reciting the school song. Unfortunately he was so pissed he'd forgotten all the words, which caused him to crawl around on the floor for five minutes in a hilarious semi-apologetic bowing fit, provoking gales of laughter. You had to be there, I think.

After that came the alarming development of the "farewell bumps" - a Japanese retirement tradition which may or may not have developed from the more familiar "birthday bumps". It wouldn't surprise me if it did originate from Western birthday parties - I mean, this is the country where they celebrate Christmas by blowing out candles on a cake and making a wish, so it's not too great a leap of the imagination.

Anyway, the "farewell bumps" began with the young teachers who were leaving to go to other schools. They took turns to stand in front of everyone and listen to a farewell speech which praised their service at the school, then, after a cue, all the male teachers rushed in and threw them in the air. All good fun.

Then it was the turn of the retirees. Horie-sensei stepped up. Surely they weren't going to chuck him in the air too? I mean, he's 60 years old for God's sake! Suddenly images of broken hips and pensions depleted by endless hospital visits filled my brain...

I held my breath....

...9...10...11...12...and he's down, with no visible wounds!

Yet another scrap of evidence to support my theory that elderly Japanese people are indestructible - which is why they can afford to be such terrible drivers.

Oh my God, what are you doing!!! Put him down quickly before someone gets hurt!

Even the departing kocho-sensei (headmaster) isn't exempt from the farewell bumps.

Look at her fly! I can't tell if the look on her face is excitement or terror.

Sing Hallelujah!!!

I arrived in school this morning to discover the most wondrous thing has happened! Yes, that's right, the stoves have been turned on! HUZZAH! Ah, the joys of having a warm bottom!

So you want me to work on a Saturday?

So Mike called me last weekend and said "Do you fancy helping out at an English seminar for Mikuni High School kids? Some students are being sent to Wales on a school exchange, so we're giving them some extra tuition and playing some games and stuff on Saturday. Wanna come?"

"Saturday?" I said.

"You get paid 4,000 yen", he said.

"Fair enough", I said, "I'll be there". It was only when I put down the phone that I realised 4,000 yen was only twenty quid. About half of which would be spent on petrol and tolls driving there in the first place.

Still, a good time was had by all, despite the fact that I only got two hours sleep the night before after accidentally going to a karaoke bar until five in the morning. But at least I stayed awake, unlike some people... Matt?

Thanks to Mike for a great day and a blinding curry afterwards - good work fella. 

Students of Mikuni hard at work learning English.

Two Mikuni junior high school students. These poor sods are being sent to Cardiff on school exchange. I tried to warn them, but there was nothing I could do... (sorry to any Welsh people reading this)

Mike's rather funky pad.

A gaggle of rather scary English teachers. L to r: Brendan, Ben and Rich.

This pencil case belonged to one of the students in Mikuni. I love the juxtaposition between the anti-establishment comments on the left and the cute kitten on the right. I asked the thirteen year old boy who owned this pencil case if he knew who the bloke to the left of Bush was. "Is it Putin?" he replied.

Mike's rather funky pad.

Stove day

Today saw the long-awaited arrival of stove day.

In England we are too long used to the luxury of a boiler which pumps hot water and steam around the entire school. Not so in Asahi - here each classroom and staff room has its own paraffin stove, complete with an elaborate flue system straight out of a steampunk fantasy. I graciously offered to help set up the pipes in the staff room this afternoon, ostensibly so I could craftily nudge the stove a little closer to my desk. Now we just have to wait for the Great Turning-On... I hope it's soon, I'm bloody cold

One of the many stoves that have been distributed around the school. At last, heat!

A fearless teacher grapples with the rickety flue.

Earthquakes and drama

Yes ladies and gentlemen, I had my first experience of an earthquake last night! It was really confusing at first - my windows started rattling and I couldn't work out why because it wasn't windy. Then I noticed that my TV was swaying and I finally twigged as to what was going on. But before I stopped wondering if I should dive underneath a desk or start preparing an emergency packed lunch it had stopped.

The quake hit at about 7pm here and was located about 70km off the southern coast of Japan and even caused a small tsunami of about 50cm. It was quite big, measuring 6.8 on the Richter scale, but didn't cause much damage because it was so far out to sea, and in Fukui we barely felt it. There was also a second earthquake which happened at midnight - it's bad enough being woken up in the middle of the night, but especially confusing when you can't work out why the room's spinning though you haven't had anything to drink. This one was bigger than the first, at 7.4, but it felt about the same.

All very exciting, I can assure you! I also got hit by my first typhoon last week. It's typhoon season here so there's been about one a week hitting the far southern coast of Japan, but No 16 was the first to actually come across the mainland and hit Fukui since I've been here. Luckily because Fukui is surrounded by mountains they dissipated much of the storm's force, but I was still kept awake all night by wind and rain. I also got to experience the phenomenon of tiny red vans whizzing about the streets with sirens on, warning people that a typhoon is coming. Now I just need to see a volcano and a tsunami and I've got the natural disaster set! Actually, there was a small eruption in a prefecture to the west of here last week, but it didn't require any evacuations - just dumped a whole load of volcanic ash all over the local crops, much to the annoyance of the farmers.

In other Lewis related Japan news I appeared in the teacher's play this morning as part of the school festival - a highly embarrassing experience. I've been practicing every night after school this week, but in the end the teachers I was acting with just ad libbed their parts, which left me a little confused, seeing as I had no idea what they were saying. This led to me coming in at the wrong part with all my lines, much to the amusement of the audience! So, a shambles, but a good laugh all the same. The play is a farce set in the eighteenth century, so they decided I should play a European merchant. So I explained that in the eighteenth century English people wore collars called ruffs made out of lace. Unfortunately I think the costume department got the wrong end of the stick and I ended up wearing a giant cardboard collar painted with bright pink and yellow stripes. Still, it looked great...