あけましておめでとう [akemashite omedetou]

I know it's been a while. One of my New Year's resolutions is to post more, and catch up on the backlog of posts I've promised myself that I'd write.

But that's not why I'm posting.

Words cannot describe the New Year's I just had. But ima try.

So I made us a huge New Year's dinner of okinawasoba and tempura and we watched Fright Night until 10:30, then switched on NHK to watch a Japanese celebrity impersonator competition which included a male Lady Gaga and a Simon and Garfunkel manzai duo. Hilarity. Japanese TV is awesome. But it is unimportant to the story. Anyway!

HP brought me out to the balcony during the countdown because it was "more romantic, gawd." And as we kissed, we heard the gong of the first of the 108 bell tolls of the Buddhist temple. We strained to hear the reverberations, and then he turned to me and excitedly asked if I wanted to go find it.

We raced to get our shoes on.

We wandered via echo, jogging and stopping like meerkats to listen for the reverb against the buildings (sometimes it lies!) and winding our way through the backstreets and over canals in the absolute silence except for the giant bell.

And then we found it.

It wasn't a big temple, nor was it fancy. It was pea-green in the odd nighttime light, in fact. It had its big golden altar in the middle floor, and a spiral staircase to the top floor where, under the roof, the enormous bell was being struck by a mounted log, battering-ram style. From the street, we could see the abbott (honest-to-goodness, robes and rosary and everything abbott) and one of the monks, and HP tugged on my sleeve with this look on his face and said "let's go up and see."

I protested, but my feet said otherwise as we walked up the spiral steps and to the top, where we bowed to the monks awkwardly and when they bowed back, they waved us over and handed us the reins to the bell.

I must've looked absolutely petrified, as I protested "Is it really okay? I'm a foreigner!" in Japanese and they laughed before showing me how to do it. So the husband went first, then I did (and I could feel the vibrations in my toes and in my chest), and after dropping money in the donation box, we bowed, wished the monks あけましておめでとう, and descended the stairs...

...only to find the local shinto shrine right next door with the festival in full swing. Booths, snacks, lanterns, garlands, and tons of people. It was pretty packed, but I vowed to come back and take pictures some other time.

We wandered home holding hands, listening to the remaining tolls and talking about how absolutely fucking cool that just was, and when he mentioned that he wished I'd had my camera, I agreed at first, then corrected myself. I was glad I didn't have my camera, in the end, because I had this odd feeling that stopping to shoot would've kept me from really enjoying where I was and static pictures would've cheapened it. Maybe this post does, a little. But I needed to share how I'm feeling right now, because it's awesome.

We made it up the steps, poured some sake and grabbed some mochi, and toasted to the new year. And now we're sitting here, warm and dry and pantsless with chai and ginger tea, mellowing out and remembering how the wet pavement looked and the chilly sea air on our faces and the crowded, labyrinthine neighborhoods and the bridges over the canals and the lantern-covered shrine and the lime green temple and the abbott who welcomed the wide-eyed foreigner in flip flops and a messy cardigan to ring in the new year with him in his temple.

In a little while, I'm going to go salt the salmon filet in preparation for being broiled for breakfast tomorrow morning, which will be the first day of 2012. We'll probably visit a shrine with his family to welcome the new year at some point in the day. There will likely be a crowd, and maybe some noodle stands, and perhaps even a taiyaki vendor or two calling me over with their fish waffles like a siren song.

But it won't be nearly as epic as the adventure we just had, chasing bells in the middle of the night.

Edit: Tiny cellphone snapshot of the pea-green temple.

Haz vs Washer

Today, I translated the eight modes on my washing machine. Until now, I'd only ever used two: normal and gentle. And none of the others were in my kanji phrasebook, so I rolled up my sleeves, copied them onto a post-it, and set down with the online dictionary I use.

If I know the reading, I can use that to narrow it down. Otherwise it comes down to stroke numbers and the radicals that make up the symbol. However, one unfortunate side effect of living with a math major is that I've slowly lost the ability to count properly, leading to some confusing translations.

Japanese lesson of the day: The kanji for "dry" and the kanji for "virginal" are one stroke apart. My washing machine does not, in fact, have a "virginal" option.

It's that clean.

You're welcome. Now I need to go wash my dirty, dirty laundry.

Moon Viewing Parties!

They are AWESOME.

I just got back from two moon viewing parties. They usually happen after the fall equinox and HP's two schools had them on the same night.

School A (the high academic one): Tall grass/wildflower arrangement, sushi, sanshin music (with electric guitar solos, which was pretty epic), mochi, toasts, and people sitting at a long table. We stayed for about an hour.

Classy to the max with a little bit of rock 'n roll thrown in.

Party B: Sanshin music by three somewhat toasted dudes, party games, totally plastered attempts at folk dancing (oh my god so great), at least three kegs, tarps spread on the ground in the courtyard, and AN ENTIRE GOAT. We stayed for the whole night.

You know what I did? I ATE GOAT SASHIMI.

RAW. GOAT.

I ATE YOU

Okinawa is turning me into such a badass. I am so pumped.

There was a game where you had to guess who it was based on the three secrets the emcee read from the slip of paper, from easiest to hardest. (he could read my handwriting, but had trouble with HP's HA BEST AT WRITING) My three secrets were:
1. I do not wear glasses
2. I like Okinawa Pro Wrestle
3. I am in the KGB! (Courtesy of Masashi-sensei, who I had told that I was part russian and had a gun permit.)

HP couldn't think of a third "secret," so Masashi-sensei scribbled "I LOVE MASASHI-SENSEI KISS KISS" in english across the bottom and it was great. They're notorious around the school, apparently. They're like two crazy people teaching kids english and they are total ridiculosity-bros. AND Masashi-sensei is his direct supervisor and I'm pretty sure that there is photographic evidence of Masashi chasing HP around yelling "HARD GAY HOOOO ADAM KISS KISS" at least twice.

HARD GAY HOOOOOO

And I totally got invited to like, every drinking party and school event ever by all the staff, who asked the english teachers how to say it so that they could tell me how much they liked me and I spoke in Japanese to people and it was so chill. Seriously. Tarps and kegs and a stage and a goat. Best. Party. Ever.

Unless you're the goat.

Also, it is really late and I might be drunks.

First major (minor?) dog crisis

Elsa was due today for her heartworm pill. Like most pills, you give them once a month and it kills pretty much all internal parasites. Luckily for me, I'm on a schedule trying to get her "stuff you have to sit still for ten minutes to get done" (advantix, pill, nail trim - I do it all in one go) day to the first of the month, so I've been doing it a few days earlier every time.

This is what it's like. 

I'd noticed that she'd been acting oddly for a few days. She'd either scarf her meals down like she was starving or peck like a bird, she'd wake up early and cry for an hour, she was sleeping a lot more and attacking a lot less, and a ton of little things that you notice when you have a totally-healthy-and-not-at-all-unreasonable-obsession-is-kind-of-a-strong-word interest in your dog.

I gave her the pill on Monday, a few days before she was due, and since the moment I gave her the pill that morning, she started having accidents in the house. HP got incredibly frustrated, since she'd been doing so well on the housebreaking front, and I told him that it was because she'd been doing well that this was a bad sign.

She spent the rest of the day being restless and overly affectionate and refusing to eat. I got increasingly worried. Sure enough, that night, she passed a small, but unmistakably adult roundworm.

A picture of a baby wallaby instead. Because roundworms are gross.

Despite having seen infested dogs in my time working with them, that night I engaged frantically in many rounds of Ask Dr. Internets on all sorts of questions. Everything pretty much said the same thing: dog roundworms are common, easy to kill, and even if they do pass to people (rare) they can't survive.

The next morning, I was at the vet as soon as it opened, asking them what I should do. I gave the techs and doctors a good laugh, even the ones who didn't speak any English - apparently "oh god what do I doooo" panic translates just as well as it does in the States.

"Let me guess - first time she's had worms?"
"Yes!"
"Did she eat this morning? Poop? Want to play?"
"Yes..."
"She's fine; the pills kill everything. Even the eggs. She'll be clean in two days. Stop letting her eat dirt and grass and bugs."
"...Bugs, too?"
"Yep, good luck with that."

Apparently, there's no monthly med on the market that prevents worms, just kills them on a regular cycle. Worms here are very common, and the girls told me that as long as I kept up with the pills, I may see the occasional one every few months or so. It's the people that don't give their dogs the pills and don't clean up after them that cause the big problems, they added, and that meant that the lot behind my house where Elsa goes to the bathroom is probably a haven for all the stray cats (huge problem here) and lazy dog owners (huge problem everywhere).

I thanked them profusely for putting up with me (they told me it was funny and that crazy dog owners are the same in every country) and even though they said it wasn't necessary, I washed all of Elsa's bedding and toys. For my own peace of mind.

BECAUSE IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER OKAY

I felt guilty at first, because I strongly believe that it's my responsibility as her owner to make sure that she's healthy, but both HP and the vet reassured me that I was doing everything right and that common parasites are totally normal in humid subtropical climates. Also, Elsa probably didn't have any damn idea what was going on.

Vet recommended that if I really wanted to help her out after the de-worming, I should make sure all of her nutritional needs were okay. Sweet potato, thoroughly-cooked salmon, and a bit more food than usual would give her a good start. And changing her pee spot. So now we're back to a litterbox, except it's outside on our porch. She's doing well so far - and now she doesn't whine about having to go out in the rain. Less wet dog smell, too.

And I'll bet anything that all Elsa remembers from this whole ordeal is that one day she slept a lot, but the next she got big chunks of two of her favorite foods and doesn't have to get wet to pee any more.

Ignorance is bliss, I guess.

Meeting the neighbors

Being home so much lends itself well to bumping into neighbors.

So far, I know we have:

An American, Matt, who lives with his Okinawan wife on the first floor (they're an older couple, she wanted to come back home, so they moved here a few days ago)

A very friendly Japanese firefighter, also on the first floor, who loves the dog

A young couple with an infant who live on the second floor

Two small children in the house next door whose mother tells them to go practice their English with foreigners, so they ask Elsa questions in broken English

And various other people (mostly singles) who now know me enough to know that it's okay to greet me in Japanese whenever we meet. And squee over Elsa.

Japan sure does live up to the stereotype of loving adorable and tiny things.

No nosy old ladies yet. But I'm not going to let myself get complacent.

Woodland Creatures, aka My Foray into Japanese Fabrics and Indoor Mall Things

The fashion here is pretty great. I really like the aesthetic, if it is a tinge too girly for my tastes.

Not feminine. Girly.

Ruffles. On. EVERYTHING.

One fad in particular that I really like are the long skirts. Lovely tea-length numbers that had two major problems: elastic waistbands (unattractive crinkle and painful, nothing good there) and the aforementioned ruffles.

But I wanted one. And then it occurred to me to make one. As this thought sank in, I got excited with the prospect of using Japanese fabrics, having heard so much about them and seeing the brilliant parades of kimono and yukata plastered across anything having to do with Japan ever.

I headed over to the Main City shopping center (one of a chain of mini-mall-type-things) and went to the sewing section of the department store.

Quick note about many malls in Japan: they don't have walls to separate the stores. Just wider aisles. Like a big open-air yet indoor market that makes you want to wander forever. I love it.

Anyway, -

OH AND I TOOK THE BUS THERE! I rode the bus all by myself without using any English and got off at the right stop and everything and it was glorious.

I found the fabric section. It had nifty maps on the shelves to show you where in Japan the fabrics had come from. Hokkaido, Aomori, even Okinawa - they were arranged by color and pattern and were all sorts of neat.

Even in a small department store-sized section, my head was swimming in all of the bright colors. And the colors here are intense. Like, just-looked-directly-at-the-sun-for-a-second-now-the-visible-spectrum-is-wonky bright. I already have plans for some of the beautiful fabrics I saw there. If I have to live in a house filled with throw pillows, I am willing to make that sacrifice.

And just try to stop me from making a bright yellow Power Rangers-patterned party dress when I get hold of a pattern. Go ahead.

One thing I can say, though: the Japanese are so not afraid of prints.

No, not you. 

I found this linen-y blend printed with woodland animals like deer, squirrels, birds, and rabbits. And it was my favorite colors. I had to have it.

It took me all of a few hours to whip up (I used an old pattern with some heavy modifications like HUGE POCKETS), but here it is. My Woodland Creatures Tea Skirt.

Worn a couple of ways. Photos sans dog.

Click for a better view of the awesomely adorable print.

And now my head is swimming with all the sewing I want to do. Especially with Japanese fabric - it's either super gorgeous or cartoonishly great, both of which suit me just fine.

Moral of the story: after I get a job, maybe go buy a sewing machine. Even a small one.

Oh, and put pockets in everything.

An unexpected time warp

Living here is so bizarre in a way I wasn't even thinking about.

Our apartment is fairly new and modern. All the sinks stretch out on hoses. The floor is hardwood, and the A/C is built in. Our toilet has not one, but two different kinds of bidet, and neither HP nor I can tell the difference.

Super modern, right? What you'd expect in Japan.

Except being here is like being teleported back to 1962. I'm not even kidding.

You hear a lot about how Okinawa is Americanized, especially after the war. But what no one tells you is that the "americanized" bits (language excepted) look like shots straight out of Blue Hawaii.

I seriously expect to see this every day.

Tropical prints are everywhere, and hibiscus grows wild in every city, town, and roadside. Chains like A+W and Mister Donut are all over the place, resistant to their stateside collapse and thriving in this post-war time capsule.

I've heard more Elvis and the Beach Boys than I ever did sitting at a Johnny Rockets' (that is to say, near-constantly), and there are times where I swear the world is yellow-tinted and I have to rub my eyes and squint for things to turn back to normal. And somewhere, in the distance, a radio is blasting the Ronettes.

I went to a yakitori restaurant last night with Yoshio and Kiyomi, and the place was covered in 50s and 60s americana, from the labels of model planes to Crackerjack boxes and rubber chickens. Instead of curtains, they hung tropical print dresses and shirts from clotheslines between tables, the outermost of which were tatami and the inner of which were wooden picnic tables like you'd find at a beachside campsite. The corrugated sheet metal walls (also covered in retro memorabilia) were artfully torn and burned, leading up to a traditional Okinawan red terracotta ceiling that had been transplanted inside (facing inward, oddly enough, covering the outer tables like an awning) and guarded by a couple of clay Shiisa. I almost laughed out of the strange feeling in my stomach - like all of a sudden the Tardis would show up and the Doctor would pop out, apologizing for the mix-up wherein he smashed two time periods together in altogether the wrong place.

"Sorry! This entire island is pretty much my fault."

Aside from the constant fear that someone will start following me around while playing the ukelele, it's absolutely fascinating.

Know what it's like? It's like how a 1960s housewife expects her honeymoon to look. And I'm not complaining.

After all, I always said I was born in the wrong era.

Anecdotes from Japan: Slang for genitalia, aka Why you should always have a dictionary

So, even though the OS is in Japanese, my denki jisho (electronic dictionary) and I are inseparable. It has JtE, EtJ, Kanji lookup, and various other wonderful features that I don't understand how to use yet.

It basically looks like a DS. Mine is sans stylus.

It's good for deciphering things in a grocery store and on various storefronts, but not much use in conversation, as that moves quickly and most people (in either language) prefer mime to get their point across.

Also, though I do make it a point to talk to people when out on my own, most of my attempts at extended conversation have been with HP around, seeing as these first few days, we've been mobbed by family members. The closest are HP's youngest aunt, Kiyomi-obasan, and her husband, Yoshio-ojisan. She peppers her sentences with the few English words she knows, and Yoshio is a fairly atypical Japanese man in that he's a chatterbox. Not that I mind - it's refreshing to see someone so friendly - but both of them have encouraged my speaking Japanese, and I've been able to hold broken conversation with them on my own and even make a few terrible jokes.

Fast forward to Sunday night. We're invited out to dinner with them and their only daughter, Reika, who is my age and recently married. Her husband Yuuji was also there, and I'd been warned that Reika was uncomfortable with her American relatives, and therefore would likely be functionally mute throughout dinner. Though after introducing myself (in Japanese) and giving her the gift I'd brought over (a designer label bracelet covered in gold filigree and various charms), she seemed to warm to me a lot. Dinner was ordered, we talked about various subjects at normal Japanese pace with HP giving me rough translations when needed, though I could mostly follow along and contribute. They asked about my family, what kinds of foods I liked, and how I was liking Japan and wow was my Japanese getting better by the day! Also, what anime and manga did I like? Because everyone does.

A mysterious but great philosopher known only as The Sphinx once said: "We are weakest when we think ourselves strong." And just as I was relaxing into the flow of conversation and congratulating myself on how well everything was going, I heard a word I didn't understand.

Now, there's a phrase that almost every beginner Japanese student learns on the first day. It follows the pattern of "Xx wa nan(i) desu ka?" meaning "What is xx/What does xx mean?"

I use this phrase a lot. The Japanese are usually happy to oblige when I don't understand, and I've learned most of my daily vocabulary this way. So when HP and his uncle were talking about work and wives and pain and snickering, I asked about the word I didn't know.

"Sumimasen - 'Kintama' wa nan desu ka?"

At this point, he and his uncle started laughing, and everyone else, who'd been having another conversation, asked what was so funny. I turned to them and repeated the question, and they laughed too. Kiyomi smacked her husband a little, and HP only managed to say that they were "Ichiban no taisetsu" [the most important thing] before he and his uncle died laughing again. At this point, I sighed and grabbed my jisho out of my purse (a habit that made his family laugh without fail, and this was no exception) to look it up. Reika looked over my shoulder, saying "Arimasen!" [It won't be there!]

Except it was.

Don't bother looking it up; I'll save you the trouble. Hint: It means "balls."

Kintama - lit. "golden balls;" testicles.

Reika laughed even harder as she declared "Aru yo!" [It's there!] and everyone broke. Again.

I had (albeit unknowingly) functionally asked them "What is 'nutsack?'" and then looked it up in the dictionary.

His uncle bought me a beer and gave me a thumbs-up. I am apparently the most hilarious white person ever.

The moral of the story is always have your dictionary with you and men are the same everywhere the end.

Travel log

In the string of backlogged updates, here's the first, chronologically - the trip over.

I got into Logan at about 7am, and immediately regretted packing such a heavy duffel bag. My rolly, square-shaped bag was manageable, but the shape of the duffel bag made sure that the weight was as unevenly distributed as possible. Awesome. I was sure I was going to pay, like, $500 in oversize baggage fees.

Luckily, my check-in attendant was awesome. She checked Elsa's papers first, weighed the bags, figured a few pounds' difference was negligible, slapped destination stickers on them and waved me on my way.

Elsa wasn't liking the airport, but a chunk of breakfast sandwich was an adequate bribe.

The first flight was fairly uneventful, aside from me worrying about how she'd do. But there was no whining, no crying, no nothing. I did have the good luck of sitting next to a young Japanese math teacher who was on his way home from a conference at Harvard. He was extremely friendly and kind enough to help with my reading (I had a textbook open in front of me 90% of the time), commending me for my study.

I don't think I'll ever forget what he said to me. "Most foreigners go to Japan because it's Japan, not because they want to talk to the Japanese. You are different; you will do well."

Then the furball got to take a pee break in Dulles (they have super cute dog bathrooms in the terminals!) and we hopped on to the main leg of our journey.

I got bumped up to economy plus in order to balance out the plane. I didn't complain.

Elsa did get stressed out, but more in heartbeat and breathing irregularities rather than whining and crying, and mostly on takeoff/landing/turbulence. Again, small chunks of my in-flight meals helped, as well as when they darkened the cabin. I got to catch up on my movies, watching the new Pirates of the Caribbean and X-men: First Class before passing out for a few hours.

I also met my guardian angel on this flight: a marine assigned to Okinawa, V*. He was a few years older than me, and talked nonstop about his wife and two kids back home, and how he couldn't wait to finish his assignment and get back to them in the States. He also offered to guide me through customs, as our connecting flight was the same and he'd made this trip five times in the past year.

"Grateful" doesn't even come close to covering it.

We landed and I was like a baby chick following its mother. We grabbed our bags and headed to the Animal Quarantine section of customs, where Elsa was descended upon by vet techs cooing in Japanese about how cute she was. Her paperwork went through quickly, and she was in and out in less than half an hour. They commended me on my organization, and I thanked them for all their help.

Then was actual customs. About two minutes spent there.

Then the ticket counter to pick up our connecting boarding passes. That was an adventure, as Elsa needed to be put in the animal cargo section in a big, plastic kennel. Again, done quickly, and we ended up at our gate with an hour to spare.

I slept through to Okinawa, where by the time I walked off the plane and into baggage claim, our flight's bags were already on the carousel. The animals were in their own section off to the side, and a very tired, but no-worse-for-the-wear Elsa bounced back into her soft-sided carrier. Two bags later (they check your claim tags before you're allowed to leave, which is awesome!) I got to see HP waiting with two of his aunts, Midori-obasan and Kiyomi-obasan, who both gave hugs and greeted me in a broken mix of English and Japanese. Then one of the english teachers from his base school came by with the school van ("Party van!" is apparently a running joke at their school) and drove us to Okinawa-shi.

By now, it's 10pm local time. I get the grand tour, feed the pup, put her in her kennel, and pass out, enjoying the air conditioning.

All in all, my travel here was pretty spectacular. Not only was I surrounded by super friendly, helpful people, but it was like the world saying "We know this sucks. Let's make this a little better."

Total time in transit: 24 hours
Time, adjusted: ~36 hours (9:23am depart Boston, 8:45pm arrive Okinawa)

Not bad for flying to the other friggin' side of the planet.

Thus ends the obligatory oh-god-flight post.

Now we can get on to the good stuff.

This is what I did today

These awesome rocks are everywhere here.

In Nago, about 45km north of where I live.

Real updates to come starting tomorrow. But for now, a picture of what my world now looks like.

Quick update from the terminal

Sitting at my gate at Logan International. Got through security with Elsa no problem, no oversize luggage fees (!!), and managed to snag breakfast before plopping myself down and hooking up to wifi.

Elsa's been a peach, surprisingly. Aside from her usual three seconds of "NO NO NO" every time she has to go back in the carrier, she's been great. Not a peep, not a whine, just a lot of curling up with her nose pressed to the mesh closest to me. Her breathing's a little fast and her heart is off the charts, but she's doing far better than I thought she would. The little furball never fails to impress me with her adapting skills.

Also, I gave her chunks of ham from my breakfast sandwich. I think that helped.

We start boarding in ~20m. Take off half an hour later.

Another update to follow in DC if there's wireless.

Realized I forgot to cross-post this: On the subject of care packages

A lot of people have asked what HP and I would like in Japan. Offers of sending clothes, books, etc. are very appreciated, but what we'd like most is far less functional. =)

Japanese high schoolers are super excited about american things. Like stickers, novelty toys, and the like. They make great prizes for doing well or putting in extra time in the English Club. That kind of thing. For example, stampers that stamp American things, magnetic poetry things, stickers with English words on them, classic american dentist's office toys that stick to walls, etc.

Seriously. Imagine Japanese high schoolers with these.

Also, holiday items are awesome. If you'd like to send halloween decorations or costume accessories or other silly things, great! Even if they have the holiday in Japan, seeing how Americans celebrate it is a good teaching point. Nothing big is necessary, but sometimes the cheesier, the better. =) I don't know if they let you ship candy, but if they do...

Well, they don't have pine trees, so we'll have to hang them creatively. No problemo.

In brief:

- Stickers and cheap novelty toys!

- Things with English words on them!

- Holiday-specific products!

For bonus points, if anyone has an old copy of Apples to Apples they'd be willing to donate or can get their hands on one cheap, we'd be happy to compensate for shipping. =) This one is something we'd really, really like to have as a teaching tool. [this may already be taken care of, we'll see!]

Anything you would like to send our way would definitely help with the kids.

You can address it in English no problem. You might have to take a few minutes to fill out a customs form, though. 

Comment with your email, and I'll get your our Japanese address!

And the penultimate stop is leapt over.

Elsa has her clearance and her stamps from APHIS. Everything went through.

this confetti gun could only be more epic if it shot out more confetti guns.

Last step: Inspection in Japan.

T minus 13 hours.

T minus one day.

I have photocopied my SS card, passport, visa, marriage certificate, residency certification, and birth certificate.

I have converted a big chunk of cash into traveler's checks. And photocopied their serial numbers.

I have compressed everything I'm bringing (there is a small box of winter [ha! cooler weather, really] clothes) into a duffel bag and a suitcase.

Elsa's carrier is set and ready, complete with bribe.

My uncle (who owns a limo company) is sending a driver to bring me to the airport on Wednesday at 5:30am.

My appointment with APHIS is tomorrow morning at 10am.

Left to do: A little packing, deposit a check, some online stuff, trip to PetSm*, few hours at work, figure out how my paychecks will go to Japan, shower.

Looking at everything I've done, I'm surprised I'm as calm as I am. I'm sure I'll be freaking out the day of, but...

Still.

Where did I get the courage to do this?

How to restore my faith in humanity in three easy steps

Rhode Islanders were like "Eh, close the windows and bring the cat in."

Step 1: Have a hurricane knock out power to your vet the day of your export exam.


I have to admit, I had a meltdown when it occurred to me that my vet, who had all of Elsa's medical records, wouldn't have access to them two days before I left the country.

I hated that Japan requires the exam to be within two days of departure.

I hated that most of the area around my vet got power back within twelve hours, but not my vet's office.

And I especially hated that Elsa would likely not be able to come across, after all the work, time, money, and emotional investment that the process had cost me.

As anyone watching my twitter or facebook feed will tell you, I broke. I was in tears for at least an hour, completely unreasonable. Until I wore myself out and passed out for a few hours. Elsa didn't give a crap, as she was tucked away nicely in her bed.

This morning at 8am, I began my barrage of calls.

The cape is very important.

Step 2: Find a very popular vet clinic who will squeeze you in


I had made at least a dozen calls looking for USDA-accredited vets in the area, and most practices that had them said "We won't know until the vet comes in at X:XXpm, sorry."

But finally, I found Povar Animal Hospital, one that my mother used to frequent as a child, who not only squeezed me in at 5:45pm, but as part of the export exam prep, called APHIS and verified my appointment and paperwork for me. They asked if I could come in early to drop off the papers for them to check as well as fill out the New Client papers, and I came by with the export forms, titer results, and a Box o' Joe and carton of munchkins for the staff. There were audible cheers as I put the boxes on the counter.

"When someone saves your ass," I said, "it's nice to at least buy them coffee."

So I went around doing errands for a while, accomplishing only a few but very important things, then swung back around to pick up the furball. The clinic was very pretty and very clean, the staff was great, and as I paid for the visit, I checked the receipt.

They only charged me the cost of her vaccine and the export exam. No new client fee, no office visit, no nothing.

"We waived it for you," the tech said. "Special circumstances and all that."

Yeah.

Step 3: Government Officials who really understand


I had previously spoken to the APHIS office, who told me that in order to endorse the papers, they'd need to see her rabies certificates for each vaccination.

Which were on my vet's computer. Which was without power.

Well, fuck.

I called this morning and explained my circumstances, and the woman (who I now know as L*) said that while the certificates were procedure, the circumstances merited a little... leeway. My vet had signed off on the vaccinations provided for the titer, which was good, and the paperwork had the manufacturer and expiration dates for each one.

 If I could bring in whatever documentation I had, she said, they'd make it work somehow. If my vet got power back before my appointment and they could get the certificates, great.

I could have cried.

Seriously my life.

In Summary:


After a hurricane comes rainbows and kittens.

But seriously, not only did I get a last-minute lifesaving replacement vet, but also a very compassionate APHIS employee who saved me from a panic attack.

Project Elsa-Beast is fully back on track, less than 12 hours after total system failure. What a mindfuck.

T minus five days

I'm in a surprisingly peaceful state of mind right now. My YAY:OHNOES ratio at any given time is about 50:1, which is remarkable for a bouncing ball of neurotic tension like me.

I went on a shopping spree for new clothes for Japan. Lightweight, breathable fabrics, less low-cut jeans, layering tanks, that kind of thing.

And bras. Because Japan a) will not have my size and b) puts frills on everything.

Why would I want frills there? Why?

So the essentials are there. I also shipped across 90% of Elsa's supplies to arrive by Monday or Tuesday, and the dog food will arrive at Adam's door any day. I switched her to the new stuff here as well, and she goes bonkers over it. The cats try to steal it, too - so taste is clearly not an issue.

The Animal Quarantine Service has been awesome. A few days ago, I received this e-mail:
---
Dear Sxxxxx Xxxxx,

Have you prepared the certificates for your pet ?
If there are any omissions in the certification when you arrive in Japan,
the animal must be returned to the exporting country on your own responsibility
or undergo a detention inspection at our facility for the necessary quarantine period up to 180 days.

We can check your certificates before your arrival.
Could you send the following documents to us before getting endorsement by fax or e-mail (within 1MB)? (It is too difficult to correct them after getting endorsement.)

1.Form A, Form C 1/3, Form 2/3 and Form C 3/3.
2.Certificate for Rabies serological test issued by the designated laboratory.
3."APPROVAL OF IMPORT INSPECTION OF ANIMALS"

Note: These original documents are required when you arrive in Japan.

I would appreciate your response.
田中　咲子/Sakiko Xxxxxx
---
I was like "Proof them for errors before I get there? OKAY."

So all of her paperwork checks out, and I just need to have my vet and APHIS fill out their respective sections.

AND my visa is in my passport and ready, AND I got my approved Yakkan Shomei in the mail, AND I made copies of my birth certificate, passport, marriage license, and tax exemption letter.

My schedule for the home stretch:


Today: Omiyage shopping, farewell party, packing
Tomorrow: Packing, banking (travelers checks ftw), do any and all last-minute clothes alterations
Sunday: Packing, movie with Dad
Monday: Elsa's vet evaluation
Tuesday: Elsa's APHIS appointment, work
Wednesday: Fly out of Boston at 9:30am. Arrive in Dulles at 12:30, arrive in Tokyo 3:00pm local time,
arrive in Okinawa 8:45pm, where HP, his aunts (!) and his boss (!!) will pick me and Elsa up from the airport.

I've tried to keep my schedule relatively free to leave wiggle room for last-minute things, like shopping or paperwork or mental breakdowns.

All in all, though, despite the incoming hurricane? Everything's pretty okay so far.

Stresses building up again

Yakkan Shoumei bounced back to me. Resubmitting today. Grr grr grr.

But on the bright side, hitting the bike trail tomorrow with papa. Biking through Colt State Park = endorphins and sunshine and exercise and no paperwork required.

FREE AS THE GODDAMN WIND BLOWS

I am planning more Dad-Dates while I'm here, as he'll be hardest hit by my absence. I'm taking him to the Boston Aquarium next week and picking up my passport while I'm at it.

Meanwhile, my mother is stressed to high heaven from the practice wearing down on her and I think no small measure of having an extra person living in the house. She's snapping a lot and becoming more and more erratic, so I'm taking a step back. It's a shame that I have to keep my distance, seeing as I'm moving away in under three weeks, but still. Being a daughter and working for her just means that there are now two places for me to irritate her, so the best solution is to just stay quiet and out of the way. She'll be fine when I leave, so I don't have to worry about the quality time as much as I do with others.

At least I now know where I got my rampaging instincts from.

Also, I've decided that I'm pretty much done traveling. Even taking hour-away trips has become taxing, and short of the trip I'll be taking to re-home the snake, I'm trying to limit them as much as possible.

And the stress level seriously sucks.

And the first of it arrives!

HP asked, as the first contact he had with me after arriving, for me to send little american toys or stickers or something to use as prizes for the kids. Sure, I can do that. No big. My childhood dentist had a huge bucket of novelty toys in his office from one of the stores here in RI.

I wonder if Japanese high schoolers would be into dinosaurs or sticker tattoos...

But this morning, I woke up to this email in my inbox:

---

From: [HP]

Subject: Know what would be really nice to have?

Message:

Ibuprofen.

Bring lots.

I forgot my deodorant, so I'm using the spray stuff.  It seems to be working okay, and even if you brought some, I'd still need to convert eventually.

But ibuprofen.  Please be bringing lots of that.

---

Flat-rate shipping box, here I come. 

First contact

HP is safely entrenched in Tokyo for orientation, exhausted and nervous but out-of-his-mind excited.

Elsa is excelling at outdoor-only potty training.

I only have five or six more boxes of stuff left in my apartment.

I plan on taking a long, looong shower tonight and scrubbing the hell out of my sweaty I-just-moved-my-entire-life-into-boxes skin.

Small things make me feel a lot better.

And there he goes.

It's 8:30 am.

I slept maybe an hour and a half last night.

I woke up at 3:00, dragged HP out of bed, and he picked Elsa up out of her kennel to say goodbye. She knew something was up, as it was 3am and he never picks her right up out of the kennel. And she's no fool - she's known something was up for weeks now. She clung to him, scrambling up onto his shoulder with a panic that read "something is going on I don't like it what's happening OH GOD" and refused to relax like she always does when he holds her.

This, of course, did not ease any of the anxieties he had about leaving.

I kid you not, this is exactly what her expression looked like.

We stopped at Walgreens for wedding prints (which was an adventure in itself) to show to the kids and his family, then spent the drive to the airport chatting about this ridiculous thing we were doing and watching the sun rise.

I had made it through this whole experience without crying. But when all of his bags were unloaded and he kissed me goodbye, I will totally own that I broke a little. I was exhausted, this whole ordeal was intense, and I still had a long day ahead of me.

When I got back to what was left of the apartment, Elsa was awake and pacing. I grabbed a box of clothes and the necessary dog supplies, tossed them in the truck over my moving boxes, and took her out to pee before the trek to RI.

Seriously, I'm surprising the hell out of myself with this newfound stamina. Two days of information overload, packing and no sleep, and I still managed to complete three one-hour car trips. And am still fairly awake, if unhappily so. Badass level of stamina, people.

Maybe I should grow a beard.

I couldn't find her car harness, but Elsa knows how to ride in a car. She sat obligingly in the passenger seat, but was visibly nervous. So when she inched over to ask for affection, she got it, and alternated between staring out the windows and sleeping with her head in my lap. It was the first time she'd really asked for reassurance, and while it did freak me out a little bit, I was super impressed that she understands car manners enough to know to ask rather than bulldoze into the driver's lap.

She was super ecstatic to arrive at my parents' place, as it's the land of Grandma and Grandpa Have All the Best Parties. She ran around in their huge gardens, scaring moles and bees and being a general terror until I brought her inside and kicked the cats out of my bedroom. In went her kennel, litterbox and toy bucket, and somehow she just knows that this time was different. Instead of tearing through the house like she normally does, she only went a few feet beyond the bedroom door before ducking back in and crawling into her kennel. Even now, the only time she's spent out in the living room (previously her favorite place to rampage) has been velcroed to my feet and being extraordinarily clingy.

Maybe she's just tired.

Or maybe she understands a lot more than I give her credit for.

As it gets real

This week has been full of packing.

All. The packing.

To anyone reading this, never marry a person who loves books. Twenty-one boxes of books later, he has more boxes of books than I have my entire life's possessions in.

Bastard can get a goddamn kindle.

Know how much box space this takes up? NONE BECAUSE YOU BRING IT WITH YOU, BITCH

It was easily the most stressful week of my life. We had a few friends come over to move boxes to my parents' place of storage, and my apartment STILL has a ton of crap in it. I'm going to die.

As far as packing goes, I don't need to be truly out of here until August 3rd, so I might take tomorrow to recuperate, strategize, and recruit people to help me finish packing and moving on Sunday. Sunday will be a day of trips to Goodwill and exhaustion.

But seriously. All the things still in my apartment.

It has to end sometime, right? Right?

It also doesn't help that my major support is about to leave. I'm inches away from exploding like a volcano filled with stress and misery and covering the poor villagers below with molten anxiety.

"OH GOD IT BURNS LIKE SELF-DOUBT" scream the doomed townsfolk.

But the JETs had their orientation lunch today, where they got their passports back (my visa just got approved, so I'll have to come by and pick it up later), their plane tickets and instructions, and it hit me that at 8am, he's leaving the country.

Get up at 3am. Make sure everything is packed. Leave at 4. Drop him off at the airport at 5. Take a nap. Drive to parents' house to drop off dog and more boxes. Die of physical and mental exhaustion.

I have not yet cried this week.

How has no one *actually* died of drowning in paperwork?

for serious.

Because I think I'm pretty close.

I got the approval for notification for the pup, so customs knows she's coming and plans on getting her in and out in less than an hour. The people at customs? SO. NICE. They were very kind to e-mail me with questions and forms, and I'm very appreciative. Thinking of bringing a thank-you card to the person who's been helping me out.

I do not have rabies. love, elsa.

Paperwork I have yet to do:

Thing: Yakkan Shoumei (to bring over more than a month's worth of prescriptions)
Progress: Have to get a written note from my doc - doing that tomorrow morning. Also have to get an International Reply Coupon to use on an SASE to get it sent back. And fill out like, eight forms. And get CVS to fill 6 months' worth at once.

Thing: Elsa health certificate
Progress: Can only have her inspected less than two days before departure. But my vet is APHIS certified, so I can have her endorse it with their stamp and take care of that all in one go.

Thing: Tax exemption paperwork
Progress: Mailed to the house in Warwick. According to HP, it might take a while. Like a month from mailing the application. Ugghh.

Thing: Visa!
Progress: Theoretically all set...? I'll check with Susan on Friday when she hands us back our passports. She should also be handing back our...

Thing: Marriage Certificate
Progress: I sent an official copy to the consulate, which she theoretically made a copy of and will hand back. It'll save me $15 if I don't need to go to city hall to get another one.

Thing: Medical records?
Progress: In theory, I should have a copy of these, even in brief so that I can see a doctor in Japan. Maybe. I'll ask around, as that might be making more work for myself.

Not to mention all the things I have to cancel when I leave and the things that I'm sure I'm forgetting...

Ugh. I hate packing. Packing and paperwork.

T minus 35 days. 

I hate booking flights

After a grueling battle with various airlines, I now have my ticket to Okinawa all set and ready, and all three legs of the journey notified that I'll have a dog with me.  It's a huge weight off of my mind. AND 24 HOURS IN TRANSIT. 3hrs, 2 hr layover, 14 hours, 2 hr layover, 3hrs.

I also sent off my Notification for Importing Dogs after (yay, more fighting!) another battle, this time with the fax machine. Luckily, this morning I awoke to a message in my inbox from Narita customs saying that they'd received my notification and had a few questions. And now I just sit back and wait for my confirmation number!

Here's hoping the rest of the 363287654834 sheets of paperwork go as smoothly.

Punctuation is important

As I mentioned in my last post, I was facebook-swarmed by Showa girls, which was super cute, and I got to see pictures of the fun things they've done so far in Boston, like going to Fenway and Blue Man Group and fireworks on the 4th.

One of them, who I tease by calling Yukari-sensei (she was one of the rotating tutors I had in my group), is a bubbly ball of energy who was very chipper and also wanted a bazillion pictures. Anyway, she knew that I am very poor with kanji, but I can do hiragana and katakana well. So when I posted on her Facebook wall, she was a saint and took the time to write out hiragana in her response.

I can read and understand this. Mind officially blown.

And I learned something important.

When communicating with a Japanese teenager, various adorable emoticons and pretty much all of the Lucky Charms shapes are vital. More so than punctuation. It's fun, it's silly, and it makes learning Japanese feel a whole lot less scary.

I jumped on that train like a spaghetti western bandit.

My first foray into conversational Japanese, and I DID NOT FAIL.

On Saturday, we had a second Japan orientation, this one run by JET alums.

Side note: Go the the official orientation. I am so glad I went. Meeting people who've actually done it and seeing everyone else who's in the same boat as you really makes it feel less daunting. Also, they talk about important things, like squatter toilets :

we seriously broke Ita-san, the consul, by one of the alums giving us a detailed instruction/demonstration on the proper way to use them, and she dissolved into giggle fits for a good ten minutes

 ...and banking and mail.

Anyway, this one took place at the Showa Institute in Boston, which is an awesome resource. They have sister campuses and send students back and forth for language learning. The campus is beautiful. I hate to admit, it's more than a little surreal being in a classroom geared toward teaching English, but I saw some familiar faces and a lot of my nervousness dissipated.

The first half of the day was spent on learning different techniques for listening and comprehension exercises, which was nice, but the real thing I was looking forward to/dreading was lunch and what came after: meeting the Showa students.

We went into the sun room for pizza, and met about a dozen very shy (well, most of them) Japanese college girls, and were told "socialize!" When they let us loose, the girls had the most terrified looks on their faces.

oh shi- I just forgot all of my english

Then we descended like hawks in a field of baby rabbits, pulling some to each of our tables and encouraging them to speak English as we put together our terrible pidgin Japanese. They opened up a lot more as time went on, especially when they saw that while some of us had a few years of Japanese under our belts, others had varying levels of "none."

BUT I COULD HOLD ACTUAL CONVERSATIONS. I did! I managed to find out their names, where they were from, what year they were in, when they arrived, and a whole host of other things. Turns out, they were all 19-year-old sophomores, fresh off the plane 3 weeks ago. So as nerve-wracking as it was for us to talk to native Japanese speakers, at least we had home court advantage.

I was super nervous at first. I rehearsed things in my head before saying them, often missing my window to actually say it out loud. It was frustrating, and I quickly realized that this was Not Going to Work. Thus, my "Say Stuff and Correct as You Go" system was born. And it was awesome.

In less than an hour, I was speaking confidently and quickly, although I might not have made a whole lot of sense. But the girls were all over that. (It probably also helped that one of the teachers earlier in the day had given us a quick vocal coaching.) We got used to laughing at each other.

A lot.

The rest of the day was a lot of fun, as we rotated in little pairs and groups of english and Japanese speakers to do self-introductions and skits and whatnot. By the end of the day, the girls were a lot more social and friendly, asking to take A BAZILLION PICTURES (seriously, there are about fifty pictures of me on Facebook with a variety of Japanese schoolgirls) and asking for our facebook information.

HP commented that I was like a rockstar in the number of girls who flocked to me, further chirping that he was right about just loosening up and being a chatty, friendly person in order to win over everyone ever and make ALL THE FRIENDS.

He might be right this one time. Might be.

Oddly major relief.

Just got pictures of our apartment. Hardwood floors, not tatami.

Oh, thank goodness. I was having nightmares about vacuuming.

Assignment details

So, we're in Okinawa-shi, about half an hour outside of Naha on the main island.

That's us in the fuchsia.

We also have information about the previous JET's setup. It is in an apartment, not like the pile of rocks surrounded by rice fields that HP led me to believe.

This is the image he painted. He may have been messing with me.

The good:
The apartment allows pets
The apartment has a parking setup
Near major facilities, like hospitals and
Near many parks and natural preserves
A working (albeit sometimes unreliable) bus system
We will be inheriting the apartment from a previous JET, so it will be somewhat furnished and she'd be willing to sell us her car
About a 2 mile walk from HP's grandmother's house
THERE ARE DOLLAR STORES

I WILL BUY ALL THE THINGS. KAIMASU YO.

The bad:
It's a 1LDK, so it's likely a two-room setup (although the setup for the standard 1LDK is this, which I find totally comfortable)
The rent is fairly high for a JET (though we don't know if the school will subsidize cost of living, which many do)
The key money is high (about $3k, but see the note above)

So, this is independent of the school. We don't know if the contracting organization will be covering any of it, or if they'd have a certain setup that they would be able to subsidize. Though if they did, the option they'd provide probably wouldn't allow pets.

Ughh. It doesn't seem like a huge problem, but until I get a steady income, money will definitely be an issue. And while we'll have things (like two fold out mattresses, fridge, rice cooker, table), there will be move-in expenses, obviously.

Money doesn't seem super dire, though. I mean, if one JET on her own could afford this and make it work, then two people working definitely should, right?

...Provided I don't cover the house in random Japanese dollar store merchandise?

Ugggh. I take that last post back.

No win.

No win at all.


Just got off the phone with my mother-in-law. We're in the process of planning the reception down in Virginia for her side of the family who couldn't make it to the New England wedding. Trying to plan around it is incredibly stressful for everyone involved, with the transit, hotel, party planning, work and trying not to upset anyone which is incredibly difficult when you're already strung out from all the other things. We've been playing phone tag for about a month now, and my parents were starting to get close to deadlines for planning their trip down. I called my MIL today to get some straight answers, and instead got a bombshell.

HP's japanese grandmother is in the hospital, and doing poorly. She's 93, and she's tired. And in Okinawa. If she gets any worse, HP and his dad will want to go visit her, and his dad has pretty much told him to be ready to go at any point.

This means that he probably won't be coming back before orientation. I lose him a month and a half early, and I therefore lose my main support for moving to another country, learning an entirely new language, and leaving my whole circle of friends and family.

This also means that he may not be getting his master's degree, as he's not scheduled to complete it yet. And that the reception in VA will be completely moot and all this stress and planning will go out the window.

This also means that I'll be packing up the entire fucking house by myself.

this is my face right now.

I should've seen this coming, though. I was doing ALL THE THINGS! to prep, and they were going picture-perfectly. I'd finished learning katakana and moved on to kanji, I'd gotten through another chunk of Rosetta stone, I was using Japanese in the home and in conversations with HP, the dog-prep was full of happy coincidences in my favor and I was so on top of things it was like I was some kind of motivational superhero with eyes that shot "YOU CAN DO IT" lasers.

I blame the JET orientation. It lulled me into a false sense of security by being full of cool, happy people who made this whole crazy idea seem totally feasible.

Assignment get!

Found out yesterday that we'll be in Okinawa-ken ( 沖縄県 ) ! 

Yay:

Near my new in-laws

NO SNOW

Coconut-flavored everything

Higher likelihood of an english-speaking vet

Being near the sea might take care of the tropical humidity

Shisa are goddamned adorable

Boo:

Near my new in-laws (OH GOD I HOPE THEY LIKE ME AND I DON'T MAKE AN IDIOT OUT OF MYSELF)

Little mass transit; will likely need a car

Anti-American sentiment might make becoming friends a bit tougher

High volume of English speakers means that it's easy to cheat and not learn the language

Farther away from mainland japan means less ease of sightseeing

Ridiculous heat

So I'm hoping for the best. Adventure time get!

Looking at airfare

Looks like United is the only carrier to allow carry-on dogs on international flights. That works fine for me - it's $125 to keep her in the cabin, $225 to check her in the cargo hold. And it's so worth it for her to not be in the big, noisy, terrifying cargo hold alone.

Now to talk to the vet about possible sedatives. Yes? No? The second leg of the journey is 11 hours, so I'm not sure how restless she's going to get. Maybe just stuffing a kong with something really difficult will be good enough.

I don't know how I'll survive

I just realized that they don't have girl scout cookies in Japan.

ADD TO TO-DO LIST: Make friends with a Troop leader before leaving.

Bringing Elsa to Japan: T minus 107 Days

The first thing you need to know is that I started this process back in November. And that's the advice I give to anyone thinking of applying and bringing their dog: start prepping now. 

If you know nothing else about my process, it's that I function well on timelines, and that's the one thing that the importation literature defines quite clearly. You miss so much as a day or a single sheet of paper, and the 12-hour wait period turns into a 6-month quarantine. Needless to say, I was totally on top of this since the day HP decided to apply for the program.

The other thing to note is that my vet's practice is awesome. I'm on a pet insurance plan, and though they only get pets who need to travel internationally every so often, they had procedures in place. And they bent the rules for me: because of my schedule, I could drop Elsa off in the morning, they'd do what needed to be done, and I could pick her up on my lunch break, only paying the supplies' cost. They never charged me an office visit fee, which saved me a lot of money.

Point the third: This can be damn expensive. As I mentioned in my "Here's the dog!" post, my dog is part of my livelihood, and not just a personal pet. I also was very cautious to budget a large chunk of money for unforeseen medical expenses her first year of life even before I signed a contract with her breeder. I'll be putting down how much everything cost me, but unless you have a similar arrangement with your vet, don't bank on getting a lot of breaks.

So, here's my timeline, based off of the (adorably illustrated) official guidelines in the link to the left. I gave myself some leeway, but not much.

--

11/17/10 - 287 days [DONE]
Elsa is spayed. While she's under, I have her microchipped.
NOTE: Make sure the microchip your vet uses has the International ISO (11784 and 11785)  standard or Japanese readers can't read it and it's worthless.
Spent: $50 on microchip.

12/10/10 - 264 days [DONE]
She's already had one, but Japan requires two rabies vaccinations after microchipping, no less than 31 days apart. So Elsa gets another rabies vaccination on her 3-week spay checkup.
NOTE: Most vets already do this, but the vaccine has to be killed-tissue in order to be valid. Still doesn't hurt to check.
Spent: $15 on vaccine.

1/11/11 - 233 days [DONE]
Elsa has her second mandatory rabies vaccine, 31 days on the nose.
Spent: $15 on vaccine.


2/15/11 - 198 days [DONE]
Elsa has her titer (measure of rabies antibodies, making sure the vaccines took) drawn. The vet draws and labels it for free, spins it into serum, and I put it in my cooler to bring to the UPS outpost.
NOTE: The only laboratory that Japan accepts in the USA is the Kansas State rabies lab, and they're just as much a stickler for paperwork that Japan is. Mislabel something, and your sample is worthless. For what it's worth, though, the staff are very friendly and happy to answer your bajillion questions.
Spent: $5 on ice packs, $80 for the titer, $120 for overnight mail.

2/15/11 - 198 days [CURRENT]
Wait six months. No, seriously. From the day the titer is drawn, the dog has a 180-day wait period in the country of origin. No trips to Canada, folks.
NOTE: The wait is at least 180 days, and the titer is good for 2 years, so if you wanted to get this done very early and just wait around comfortably, you definitely could.

3/3/11 - TITER RESULTS [DONE]
It could take anywhere from 3 to 10 weeks to get your serum antibody results, and they need to be at least 0.5 IU/mL to be acceptable. Imagine my surprise when Elsa's comes back 4.68, roughly 9 times as immune as necessary. Rabies lab called her "robust and resilient" with a laugh when I called to make sure I hadn't raised the Hulk. Guess that's what happens when your pup gets 3 rabies vaccines within a six-month span.

Back to waiting. Yayy.

Between 7/1 and 7/15 - T > 40 days
Notify Narita Airport that I'm importing the dog.
NOTE: The application, and instructions on how to fill it out in English, are on the linked website.

Between 8/21 and 8/30 - T 7-2 days
Have an APHIS vet fill out the Export Certificate and vet forms.

9/1/11 - 0 days
Get my ass to JFK Int'l and get ready to fly to Tokyo.

--

And that's the plan.

Elsa is small enough (six pounds, I'm not kidding) that I'm going to see if she can fly in the cabin with me. So, between her and my laptop, I should have my hands full for the long 12 hours it'll take to get to Narita.

I'll update on this process as it goes on, but for now, this is where things stand. I feel like such a boss right now.

Flashcards, anyone?

The first thing I did was start learning Hiragana.

Brief rundown of writing systems:
Hiragana = for phonetics of japanese words/words there are no kanji for. Softer, prettier, more complicated.
Katakana = for phonetics of foreign words. Blocky and sharp.
Kanji = the big, complicated guys. Stand for words, not sounds. Schoolchildren are required to learn 1,000, and 1,900 is considered fluent. Yikes.


So, baby steps. I will learn to communicate, even if I have to look like a third-grader spelling everything out phonetically.

POINT OF EXCITEMENT: Japanese is entirely phonetic. Spelled just like it sounds, none of these ridiculous pronunciation of german-french mishmashes that English has in abundance. Maybe not so hopeless after all?

Google searches will find you kana charts easily. Learning is more than memorizing off of a chart, though, so writing them is actually a huge help. Get some graph paper and write the characters in four-block squares. Strokes go top-to-bottom, left-to-right. I had a surprisingly easy time with hiragana, but katakana kicked my ass. For some reason, I just can't commit it to memory. Maybe because it's not as pretty. Or I haven't been practicing as much as I should. OR BOTH.

Anyway, something I've found really helpful is this simple little site designed with a flashcard mechanic to help you remember the writing systems. You can choose to go from english to japanese or vice versa, clicking on the appropriate translation in the buttons below. You can also set your proficiency level (level 1 is the first 10 characters, 2 is the next 10, on and on until you get to "all") and see a letter grade based on your correct answers.

I can get a perfect score on the hiragana game, but haven't even tried the katakana one. When I do manage a perfect on the utmost level, though, I'm going to reward myself somehow. Like wearing an "I'm number one!" blue prize ribbon on my jacket for a few days.

It's not flashy and it's not complicated, which actually works best, I think. I do drills once in a while, especially to work on the three or four characters I constantly get mixed up. It's a good tool, and, like any links I post in the future, is going up in the link sidebar to the left. (To the left, to the left...)

T minus 107 days.

for serious. 

Statement of Purpose

This blog is meant as a resource.

I started panicking a little when I saw how few resources there are out there for JET spouses. Sure, there's the embassy, your spouse and (if you're really hard up) Skype. And going through the JET forums wasn't any more productive, either - most of it was asking about healthcare and children.

I'm going to want a job.

I'm going to want to talk to people.

I'm going to want to go to supermarkets and shop.

And I know I don't want to go crazy doing it.

I've heard wonderful things about the JET program, but I've heard just as much about bored-to-tears SOs who spent all their time in the house or talking online to friends thousands of miles away. The loneliness and anxiety is understandable, sure - but I know that I don't want to burden my husband, also having just moved to Japan, by bottling it up until I'm like a volcano, spewing incoherent overly-emotional nonsense all over him.

I'm going to go out and talk to people in my (as of right now) very broken Japanese. I bought Rosetta Stone, ironically enough from a JET participant who turned down his acceptance due to the earthquakes. Also, I can now read and write Hiragana pretty confidently, which means close to nothing when you have no idea what the words mean. But progress, my good man! Progress!

I'll post language resources and learning games. I'll talk about the draining process of bringing over a pet and getting a visa. I guarantee that there will be posts to the idea of "WHERE AM I WHAT AM I DOING OH GOD WHAAAT" and an equal number of morose, homesick posts that will make you nauseous with their melodramatic sentimentality.

There will also be hilarity, I'm sure. I'm not the most coordinated person, but I make up for it with enthusiasm, so at the very least, I will serve as entertainment for the Japanese people. And, hopefully, readers who can laugh at the things I get myself or HP into.

I will eat all the food. ALL OF IT. And then tell you what it is, whether you want to hear it or not. Look forward to a spectacular amount of food posts. And supermarket guidelines for when you want to attempt Japanese cooking. Which I will also post on, if I ever figure out the conversion to metric cooking measurements.

I'll post about the nitty-gritty stuff, too, like housing and visas and transportation. And how my relationship with HP changes as our intense first year married gets infinitely more stressful.

There will also be cute pictures of my dog to counteract my grumblings about life, love, and the mass transit system.

In the end, though, I want this to be a place where significant others, husbands, wives, and even the people staying in the States can have a place to ask questions and bitch freely about their frustrations and worries. Moving anywhere with only your spouse to depend on takes its toll on your mental health, relationship, and way of life. It's terrifying, and it's exciting. It fluctuates daily, especially for those who don't have the happy talent of masking their nervousness with idiocy, like I do. And I hope that this blog becomes a way of staying stable and busy and sane.

But ultimately, I want people in my situation to know that they're not alone.

And, on a more selfish level, that I'm not alone either.