Another Day

I’m not sure what I’m going to write about in this blog, but seeing as I haven’t written anything for a week, I felt sure that you’d all be pining for more about me.

Well, since the last entry, my apartment was subjected to an onslaught of chavs. Big chavs, small chavs, chavs dressed in all-in-one leopard-print body-suits. It was messy, I won’t lie. There was even a trip to the local convenience store involving a minor car accident. All in all; a good night.

Waking up the next day and wondering what type of woodland creature had expired in my mouth, the first thing I noticed was the general littering of bodies on my floor. People crashed out on the floor, on futons, on makeshift structures that looked more than a little dodgy. There were even (shock horror!) people slumbering in the mouldy bedroom, of all places. My thoughts were then turned to the fact that it was, in fact, before 8am on a Sunday morning. Why in God’s name was I stirring at this hour? Well, I’ll tell you, lads and lasses. The Yamaguchi Prefectural Culture Festival.

There is a prefectural culture festival every year, but this year it was taking place on my very own doorstep. Well not really, because it didn’t, unfortunately, happen in Kuga. I feel there was some oversight here. However, Iwakuni (the actual venue) isn’t too far away at all and so I volunteered to go. Yes, that’s right. I volunteered. To get up at the crack of dawn after what I had anticipated would be a heavy night. To give me my dues, I’d forgotten that the culture festival and my chav party were sharing a weekend until the last minute, so it really wasn’t done out of some kind of masochism. No: just stupidity.

As everyone knows, misery loves company, so I made Brooke tag along with promises of a fun day out with a quick-witted Brit. Being slightly hungover and feeling a little ill, the quick-witted Brit wasn’t really on form, so she had to make do with the entertainment on offer.

By all accounts, a brilliant day was had by all. After suffering through the opening and tuneless recorder orchestras (not the best idea when you’ve got a headache), we were presented with a choir. Who could sing. In harmony. With each other. I was shocked. Brooke was shocked. The Japanese were shocked, I’m sure. What followed was, by far, my favourite event of the day. Out strolled the kids in their black jackets or blue sailor suits, carrying their brass and wind instruments. What followed was one of the best orchestral performances I’ve ever witnessed. Not only was the playing impeccable, but they danced. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the instrument-playing, cuter-than-cute Japanese kids danced. Whilst playing! It was all very impressive and put a smile on my face for the rest of the day. Needless to say, nothing else lived up to the high standard they set and so I won’t bother elaborating on what else happened. I do remember taking a nap at intervals and also skiving off for a long lunch.

In lieu of this extra day I spent ‘working’, I’ve been granted tomorrow free. So the weekend starts here, people! I’ve just finished my adult education class for another week, as well as my time at the school I like the least for November. I’m happy! Tomorrow I’m off to Shimonoseki, where I’ll be trying the sushi delights off the city. Including blowfish, the local speciality, apparently. Having asked one of the English teachers at my Junior High School about fugu today, she questioned the science teacher about the poison content of the meat. I’ve now been professionally informed that if you do consume fugu that is served incorrectly, you may not die. You probably will, but it’s not set in stone. And I asked how many people die from eating it every year. My teacher couldn’t answer me, but assured me that they hardly ever hear about it in the news, but she estimated that people died from eating it all the time. I don’t want you all to worry that I’ll perish eating a bit of fish, as my friend Phoebe has consumed it no less than four times and has lived to tell the tale. She recommends it fried, by the way.

And now, I’ll leave you with an image of me. As a chav. Enjoy!

Me as Pimp Daddy Chav