Kochi

I moved into my apartment in Kochi last Friday. It’s a pretty average bachelor suite size—not extravagantly small, as apartments are in the Canadian image of Japan. I arrived to find a great crop of household objects: no less than three futons, enough blankets for Saskatchewan winter, all of the dishes a person could need except knives, a laundry basket, curtains, a floor chair, and even a fridge and rice cooker, on loan. I’m lucky to have found this job, I think—any job that comes with a co-worker considerate enough to seek out free household stuff for you is a good bet. (The majority of the stuff came from Ayumi and her mom, but nonetheless.)

I spent the weekend lazing about on two of the three futons, meeting up with Ayumi (and relying on her help to get a cell phone and other sundry Japanese-requiring tasks), and getting towed along to various events by my enthusiastic neighbour and co-worker, Mana. I got a tour of the local farmer’s market (I bought apple jam [!] and carrots), and went to an anti-nuclear arms demonstration and a punk (“neo scum,” actually) show, where a 30s+ looking man dressed only in leather underpants played a techno background for his rhythmic spoken word (as far as I could understand he was telling stories about junior high school) on a synthesizer, the type where you create sound by touching a small pad in different ways, attatched to said leather underpants. Fortunately there were a couple of really good bands later on to make up for the experience.

It's going to be an interesting summer.