I'm Still Here

Well. 

Here we are.  So much for the “get the India experience on the blog by the end of January” goal. 

So much for the end of February….and March.

But here I am.

I am one of those people that is constantly setting goals for myself.  You should see my planner notebook…it gets ridiculous.  (Am I the only person that writes down something I have already completed just to simply have the satisfaction of crossing something off immediately?...I didn’t think so. )

So the goal about blogging about my experience in India in a timely fashion did not happen.  Life happened.  Other things got in the way.  Like online classes, horrible colds, and trips. 

But here I am.

So…where was I?

Oh yes.  Chevuru…

The memories of working in Chevuru have all to quickly begun to amalgamate into a lump of nostalgia.  The smiles of the children resonate in my memory.  I have forgotten how weary my body felt from the work and shock of travel. 

When we arrived in Chevuru to the tears and smiles of the people, I had no idea what to expect.  I knew we were there to work.  And work we did.

Our work fell into two categories:

1)    Helping to build physical homes for people.  This meant you were doing one of the following: mixing cement, pouring cement, or passing cement (or sometimes bricks).   That was it.  Pure grunt work, baby.  It was great.  

2)    The second type of work found us in the village whenever we were not sweating profusely and covered with cement dust…usually in the form of small children.  We played with them.  Talked with them.  Visited their homes and families.  Took photos.  Smiled.  Laughed.  Loved.

The four of us volunteers spread ourselves as thinly as possible throughout the village, attempting in vain to oblige every invitation for chai.  The evenings were crowded by smiling faces with a unquenchable thirst for our company.  One such evening we were invited to teach an English lesson in a small building next to the protestant church.

The village children crammed into the one room school house lit by a single long fluorescent light affixed to a wall. The stark blue light reached as far as it could, but still left the far corners of the room unlit.  Nobody cared.  Their bright eyes shone through the dimly lit room, eagerly awaiting entertainment.

We played some games.  The children soaked them up like sponges. 

When we finished, we each took turns speaking to the children, encouraging them to study hard in school.  Although their English level is relatively good, Ravi translated into their native Telugu.  It was heartening to see how eagerly they listened to our messages. 

And though we were exhausted every evening we left the village, we were always excited to return the next day.  

侍 (Samurai)

 

All too soon, the alarm went off.  We got up, got ready, and made our early train to Yorii. 

There aren’t many things that will get us out of bed early on a weekend morning…but a samurai festival is one of them.

寄居町北條祭り-Yorii Machi Houjou Matsuri-Yorii Town Samurai Festival.  This festival, held every year, is a historical reenactment of a samurai battle that took place on the banks of the Arakawa River some 400 or so years ago.

A friend of ours participates in this festival every year and coordinates a group of international volunteers.  We were asked to join. 

What a fantastic opportunity.

For some reason, it was decided that Karl and I would be wearing the most intricate costumes in our group.  We had to get up so early so there would be time to get dressed and adjust everything without rushing. 

Karl’s outfit-by far-took the longest.  

Karl's outfit in pieces before dressing.

First the shirt, pants and arm guards.

Much help is needed during this process.

The leg guards.

Finishing touches...this outfit took over an hour to put on.

The dratted too-small footwear we all had to wear for seven hours.

Tying the straw sandals on the feet.  Again, help was needed.

Ready to go lead the samurai troops!

Me keeping Karl in line.

There were many cute little samurais running around.  Some were my students!

Once we finished dressing, we had to walk to the banks of the river, where the opening ceremony-and later on, the battle reenactment-would take place. 

Lined up, listening to speeches.

Checking each other out...I think the samurai look works.

Parading!

 After numerous speeches by politicians (which lasted waaaaay too long in full armor, 80+ degree weather in the beating sun) we all trooped through town on a parade. 

Karl had to make a little motivational speech-in Japanese.  He was very well received. 

Karl passionately addressing the crowds.

Cheers and raising of katanas and spears.

Looking important.

 After the speeches and parade, back to the beach we went to watch the battle reenactment.  

The smoke billowing around the battlefield.

After the fireworks and smoke subsided as the "battle" ended, we were mobbed by people wanted photos of the gaijin samurai.  Many a photo was taken.  

My helmet was a tad large...I had to adjust it frequently.  Fortunately it was plastic. Karl's was metal and very heavy.

Our International samurai group.

These guys were the coolest. 

Our best try at acting.  I think we should stick to teaching.

So despite the heat and heavy armor, this was a really wonderful experience.  

But next time...I think I'll just watch and take pictures. 

A Golden Year

The weather had become just cool enough to wear jeans without melting into a puddle of sweat.  Hallelujah.  Simply that was enough to make my day.  But I was waiting for a “big surprise” from Karl. 

It was my golden birthday.  A Friday. 

Finally, a car pulled up to our new apartment.  Karl hopped out, proclaiming the plans for the evening: he and a group of his Japanese co-workers and employers (including his supervisor, school principal and the head of the Board of Education) were taking me out to a fancy Japanese restaurant. 

We politely celebrated, communicating in as much Japanese and English as we could muster.  They gave me flowers and cell phone charms. 

We had been in Japan for hardly any time at all.  We hadn’t had much time to form any friendships.  But nevertheless, Karl put together a lovely birthday party for me. 

My golden year came.  It went.  And what a year it was.  A year of firsts: first year of marriage, first year living abroad, first year out of college, first “real”job, first major natural disaster.  It was a lot to take in.

A year later, I have learned much and been reminded how much I don’t know.  Life is easier now.  We are used to living in Japan.  We have many friends. 

Which means I had an awesome birthday party this year.  

Last Saturday, a big group of us went to one of our favorite places in Ogawa- 太田ホルモン.  Papa San had promised me a present of a fried chicken and a 大生ビール (a gigantic draft beer). 

How could I resist?

 So we booked the back room.  And we ate.  We drank.  We laughed.  We talked. 

Papa San out did himself: he presented us with three heaping plates of fried chicken, teriyaki chicken and Korean stir-fry chicken.  These were his gifts to us.  An ever-generous soul!

Papa San-in all his glory!

As we were leaving, Papa San stopped me to shake my hand and present me with one last offering-a huge bottle of yuzu booze.  (A very strong citrus flavored beverage.) 

A fantastic birthday.