It is just mind-boggling how many Japanese have come away convinced that I must be a US citizen, on account of my shirt having a tiny US flag shoulder patch (right above where it proclaims in large gold stitch letters that I am a “Boy Scout of America”).

On the other hand, this lack in the whole irony concept, puts some of the clothing commonly spotted through the streets of Japan in a radically new, slightly scary, perspective…

The cicadas outside my window have started singing.

Summer is officially here.

Dear local Kyoto-fu LDP candidate for the upcoming upper-house election:

True: I cannot cast a vote in this election and sway your chances either direction.

But let me assure you that, if you keep insisting on circling my block multiple times, every morning between 8 and 8:30, inane election slogans blaring from your van’s speakers at top volume, I will be more than happy to contribute to your historical legacy by setting post at the closest grassy knoll with whatever long-range weapon I can get my hands on.

Thanks.

Really, Hawaiian… it’s just Japanese pronounced with a thick US accent, right?

Shortly after my arrival yesterday, Fred&Co mentioned they were off skydiving today. Having enthusiastically accepted an offer to join, I found myself this morning at 7am, mildly jetlagged and ever-so-slightly hangover, riding a mini-van to a small airfield 1 hour away from Honolulu and subsequently jumping off a moving plane, 10,000 feet above the Pacific Ocean.

Among other observations, in no particular order:

• WOOOOOOOOOT. This was absolutely awesome. Perhaps not to the point of instant addiction, like I have seen a few friends get into, but definitely to the point of doing it again next time I get a chance.
• As a cousin of Natalie pointed out: if you are gonna pop your skydiving cherry somewhere, Hawaii is definitely one of the best place to do so; in addition to the great (and warm) weather, the view going down only adds to the awesomeness of the free fall… Cloudy mountains on one side, ocean on the other.
• There were 4 of us jumping. I went third and, having seen Anne’s departure, assumed ours would be similar: a nice jump off the ledge, followed immediately by the regular downward-facing, arched-back position… My (otherwise rather laconic) instructor must have mistaken my lack of comments during preparation for jadedness, because he decided to go a little more special, with no notice or forewarning: if jumping off a plane is bad enough as it is, doing so with a backflip, followed by half a dozen flips and summersaults in every possible orientation of space, is enough to test the most hardened digestive system (mine definitely wasn’t at its best, but luckily held on long enough).
• The whole time waiting at the skydiving place for our plane ride, the music playing was, I kid you not, a compilation of James Bond theme songs. I badly wanted to ask if a Union Jack parachute, with landing on skis and AK-47, was an option.
• Did I mention: WOOOOT…?

Leaving for Honolulu in a couple minutes…
Japanese cell won’t be on, but email will be checked occasionally (I hear they have Internet there, but don’t tell my advisor).

Back on Tuesday. Enjoy tsuyu, suckers!

These “volunteers” will teach you English (and the Word of Jesus Christ Savior) for free, at three convenient locations around Kyoto.

Obviously, Japan is not doing enough to discourage missionaries these days…

Yep, that’s my daily commute.

God how I would have loved to seat the design meeting for this one:

“- For our sign, we need something refined something that spells GLAMOUR…”

“- how about the silhouette of a woman sitting on her ass, spread-eagled, showing her crotch?”

“- Brilliant! That’s exactly what I meant!”

… There is a young guy applying strokes to an oil painting while frenetically dancing to tribal trance music…

Japan: the country where trains being one minute late on the usual schedule warrants posting advance notices all over the station…