From 8-19

NYPD Blue is on in english. Yesterday I found a bar in Osaka with real darts and english beer. Life is good. I ruled the school at darts, besting two of my new friends from the land of mutton and beefeaters and ruling over several local fellows as well. Go me! Give me an M, give me an E! What does that spell? ME! Whatever. Anyway, after a long day of seminars yesterday, myself and some fellow JETs went out to a few bars. I felt my age a bit as I compared my last week with those of my comrades. Nobody else, it seems, has seen their apartment, since they've been out partying every night, or staying with friends in different towns. I was like, "well I cleaned my place the other day, and bought a fan and polished my assorted collectors plates and filed some forms before re-arranging my furniture again. Very rewarding week."

It's strange seeing so many other gaijin. I realize how loud and obnoxious we really are. And yesterday, I loved it. Loved all the stares and looks. Loved being different. The feeling of otherness was a comfort shared between all of us.

Normally those stares aren't quite so nice. They look away quick. They get up and move away. They don't sit next to me on the subway and trains. A full train with me on it is guaranteed to have an extra seat. A strange creature, I attract and repulse. People are fascinated, but some would prefer it if I were behind glass.

This is where Greg says, "So really no different from home. " And I say, "ha ha."

Meeting other gaijin on the street, when it happens, is kind of strange. Part of me wants to share something with this stranger. A secret handshake. We're in the same club, you and I. Part of me feels a kind of shame. Like looking at yourself in the mirror when you don't look so good. It makes me feel even more lonely to see this other that is the same and realize I have no connection with them. There is no secret club. More than this, though, it reminds me that I'm different from everyone else around me now, and no matter how hard I try to fit in I never will.

And this is where I say, "so really no different from home." And you say, "ha ha."