I Just Flew Into Oita, And Boy Are My Arms Tired

It took an unbearably long time to exit Tokyo on Wednesday morning. For some reason the bus driver drove around the hotel block, which in Shinjuku rush hour traffic gobbled up about fifteen minutes right there. And we didn't use the expressway to get to Haneda like we did while coming in from Narita. Whatever--Tokyo's long gone now and I had fun making haikus about things I saw along the way. By the way, Brian and Pat, the haiku thing is brilliant. I am now "The Haiku Guy", so I consider those two hours in Laguna Seca traffic worth the misery and am even, as of Saturday, full on into Japanese language haiku and tanka.
I sat next to Caitlyn on the plane over, the only other Oita alumni I know of in our party, and we were both completely psyched to get back "home". Caitlyn was (are you still in?) one of the women in my "harlem" that I think it's about time to explain. It sounds much more suggestive than it really is, trust me.
Bleary-eyed and hungry upon our arrival at the Keio Plaza on Sunday night, Lisa, Caitlyn, Lindsey, Laura and myself went out looking for grub in Shinjuku. We hadn't crossed the street heading north before two Turkish guys started talking to me. I only got one of their names, Seljuk (the less creepy of the two), so the other guy I'll call Kato (like OJ's Kato) for no apparent reason other than it is the first name that popped in my head.

Seljuk: "Whoa, look at this guy! He's a real man!"
Me: "Gee, thanks."
Kato: "Yes, all these women are yours, no?"
Me: *putting my arm around Laura and Lindsey* "Damn straight!"
Seljuk: "Yes, it is like your harlem."
Caitlyn: "His what?"
Seljuk: "You are his harlem."
Me: "I think he means 'harem'."

So there you have it, my harlem. If you must know, I run a fair but firm harlem and am always accepting applications. Must be willing to make midnight Lawson and/or Joyfull runs. Offer void in Wisconsin.
Back to the matter at hand though, we touched down at Oita Airport and were immediately picked up, all of us, by our contracting organizations. I barely had time to say 'goodbye, see you in X weeks' to my new friends before being whisked off directly to Kusu and the city hall where I immediately began working...at nothing. So here's the thing: from the second you exit the tarmac and meet your CO reps you're their property, essentially, and your work has begun. Some towns take it more seriously than others, some less. Kusu is less deathly serious than just by-the-books, so I arrived around 3PM at the town hall, met my four bosses (two section chiefs, one division head and another dude above even him that I can't properly place) and waited an hour and a half at my desk for work to end before I was taken to my apartment.

My apartment. Well, it's larger than my old place in Oita City, which only my parents, my sister, my ex and any Oita University alumni could truly appreciate. Essentially, that doesn't mean much since most broom closets were larger than that dorm. You walk into a tiny entryway with the restroom and shower room to your right. On the left is the living room and kitchen, both separated by a little breakfast bar thing. Across from the living room is the sleeping area with a large closet spanning the back wall. There are sliding glass doors in living room and bedroom and it's this detail that brings me to the major issue I have with the apartment. Japan touts its four distinct seasons as much as they push cars, cameras and sushi to the foreign market, but it wasn't until I lived in Japan that I got a taste of a "real" winter season. See, bitch and moan as we might about cold SF winters, they are nothing--NOTHING--against the awesome oh-my-god-I'm-going-to-have-to-amputate-that-finger freezing power of a Japanese winter. That being said, the big ass single-pane windows, thin walls, floor and roof basically mean that whatever the temp outside is you can count on it being the same indoors. Not only can I look forward to frozen pipes, but also frozen liquid items I leave out overnight on the counter. I swear to Jeebus, will someone please talk to Japanese zoning admins about this? Japan, darling, it's even a proven fact that insulation is one of the most effective energy saving techniques around, and we all know how you're trying to be the greenest mofo on the Asian block.
I have a heater, mind you, and it runs on kerosene: if I leave it on at night for three or more hours without a window cracked I die of carbon monoxide poisoning. I'll have to cross this bridge in three months, so there's still time to scheme and mastermind a solution, if one exists. Here's hoping for a global catastrophe to wipe out the Japanese winter.

--Matt