There have been so many lasts by now that I feel numb to them. I am done with all manner of school, work, and most of my packing. I have gone most places for the last time, I have done most of the things I love for the last time, and now it's a fast sprint to the finish, where I would much rather a slow easy walk. I've finished most everything that I was ready to finish, but as the time comes to ride the ferry for the last time, go fishing for the last time, ride the scooter for the last time, and say goodbye to Mori, I don't know how well that is going to go. For now I am doing as much as I can every day, and while I am tired and busy, I am also happy. I'll just jump into it.

I've been diving (moguro) almost every day. Every day I get better, and every day I see something new and beautiful down fifteen feet below the surface. It's full summer weather here, Hazy and still every day, which makes for some beautiful views out on the water.




My trusty captain.

On Friday, when I was not writing a blog update, I was in Hiroshima for a Peace Walk. The 6th was the 51st anniversary of the bombing, and the weekend is always full of activities. This year the march was on the 4th, speeches on the 5th, and the lantern-floating ceremonies were on the 6th. Mori invited me to come along with him and Fumiko, his girlfriend. We actually headed in right after diving, about an hour after the pictures up there were taken. We got to Hiroshima and made our way to the staging area, and found the group we were to walk with.


This picture does not capture how phenomenally hot it was. We stood in the sun, dripping sweat and no shade in sight.



Once we got under way, the chants started. Someone up in the front of our group would shout something into a megaphone, and then all the marchers would repeat it. By and large, I could understand what they were saying, it was along the lines of "No more Hiroshima, no more Nagasaki!" "No more war!" and so on. Then came one that I wasn't sure I understood until I heard it a second time. It was definitely talking about America and American people, but I didn't know the verb. I asked Mori, and with a very embarrassed face, he told me that it was saying "America, get out of Japan!" Oops. He quickly explained that though it wasn't explicit, it was referring to the military. None the less, every time the shouted that one, I just apologized.


This was the tamest march for anything I have ever seen, and yet the police presence was enormous.






As you can see, Mori takes peace very seriously. That guy in front of Mori is really incredibly thin.


Through a tunnel and across the finish.


After the walk, we got a speech by a sweaty man in a funny hat.


Looking back through the tunnel.

After the march, Mori had to go move the car, so Fumiko and I went to wait for him in a coffee shop. It took him about 20 minutes, and we had our dinks and chatted about things - life in Japan, Mori, fashion, girls, what have you. I do it every day, but I am still happily surprised with myself every time I am able to communicate more than just hello and good bye in Japanese. It was fun, sitting in that coffee shop, waiting for Mori, talking and laughing. It felt natural, comfortable. It felt about a thousand times better than any of the times I have ever been in Hiroshima with groups of loud and poorly-dressed English teachers. While it made me sad to be leaving, it also made me happy to be able to be there, doing new things and having new experiences so close to my departure.


Fumiko.


Mori showed up.

That was about it. I don't remember what we did after that, some shopping here and there, and then it was time for dinner. We picked up Mori's friend Tsukasa and went to a sushi place.


A conveyor belt sushi place.

I've been to a lot of conveyor belt sushis before, but this one was by far and away the best. The stuff was far and away the best sushi I have ever had. Horse, abalone, otoro (fatty tuna stomach), sea urchin, and all manner of fish - and every bite delicious.


Tell me if that does not look like the single most delicious piece of unagi sushi you have ever seen.


The line of customers, all looking to see what comes down the line. Conveyor belt sushi is like getting your luggage off the baggage claim at an airport, except no one owns any of the luggage until it comes off the belt, and everyone tries to take the best looking suitcase.

That night, Mori and I stayed with Tsukasa, who is a carpenter in Hiroshima. We stayed up and listened to new music on Mori's computer.


Mori and Tsukasa.

Tsukasa had work at around 5:30 in the morning, so he headed out and Mori and I slept until about 8:30. Then we had that morning when you wake up in a house that is not yours, you haven't slept well, and you just feel like your body is not quite with your mind just yet.



Walking out was kind of surprise. We had arrived at night, so I hadn't seen the outside before.


That is not what I am used to in the morning. Nice - but not what I am used to.

And that was about it. I met up with Graham on Saturday and we did some shopping for things. When I am doing things other than sightseeing in Hiroshima, I don't take any pictures. I took maybe five all day, and nothing terribly fantastic. Come about 4:00, we headed home.



We stopped at a 7-11 in Akitsu to get some dinner, and also because Mori wanted to show me a really great spot for skateboarding. I obviously took a picture, which came out nicely.



And then that was really it for my time in Hiroshima.


My remen (pronounced "lay-men") dinner - so delicious, especially in summer.


And Mori set out to take some pictures with my camera. He succeeded in taking a perfect ending shot for this post.

On Wednesday, I am moving my computer downstairs because Dave is arriving from Tokyo, completing the set of new teachers. I will make a valiant effort to update, but you know how these things go.

A quick update tonight, as I have been busy all day. Perhaps you remember a while ago, when I went to Kui. On my way to Kui, I saw a funny boat and took a picture of it. A few days ago, I was at one of the schools I taught at, cleaning out my desk and making sure everything was ready for the next teachers. I saw a copy of the Chugoku Shimbun (The Central Japan Newspaper) and a picture on the front page caught my eye. I opened it up, and thought to myself "wow, a boat that looks just like the one I saw flipped over!



Then I looked closer.


It is the same boat! The Cougar Ace, from Singapore, that left Hiroshima and crossed paths with the ferry I was on had some sort of major malfunction at sea and heeled over 60 degrees to port off the coast of Alaska. Ironically enough, it is not sinking, just floating along on its side. 4,700 new Mazdas are stuck inside.

First, what are the odds of that happening. Second, what are the odds of that happening to a ship I saw passing Osakikamijima a week earlier? Third, what are the odds that having flipped over, the boat would be photographed, put on the front page of the newspaper here, and I would happen to come in to school and see a two-day-old newspaper with this picture on the cover? I would bet extremely low. The strange part is that this story came a so close to passing by without me even noticing. I wonder how many things have passed by me like that, interesting things that I just missed by chance or circumstance.

This does raise an interesting point. It was a beautiful day and I was taking a lot of pictures, and I took three pictures of the Cougar Ace - I have no way of knowing this for sure, but these may be the last pictures taken of the Cougar Ace before it flipped.




I should find the Captain and mail this picture to him.

Other newsflashes from the front:

1. I have just about finished packing and mailing stuff home, the total bill for sending my stuff home by mail is working out to about $700. That is a lot of money. I am sending stuff in Osaki Mikan (tangerine) boxes. I will have a nice collection of awesome boxes when I get home, and also an excellent cat. Here is a picture of those things together:



2. And the big news, today we can say hello to Graham Ruddle, who landed in Hiroshima at half past one today, and has filled the spot that Megan left vacant six months ago. He's on the island, living downstairs, and ladies...


...he is a handsome man. A JET who shall remain nameless told me she regretted deciding to go home, because she would have rather stayed and gotten to know Graham. Her words, not mine.

We did a tour of the island, got some groceries, and then went to the beach to put our toes in the inland sea. After standing there for a few minutes, Graham said "could you do me a favor? Could you take a picture of me here on my first day so I can put it on my blog?"


I'll put it on my blog too. Seems that after all he's my kind of guy.

I'm going to be in Hiroshima, possibly sleeping in a car Friday night, so expect the next blog to be on Saturday.

Time is running out. Just like that a weekend slipped by, day turned to night and then to day again, and I was one day closer to leaving. I have fifteen days left here, barely two weeks, and as I mail things home and get ready for new arrivals - it begins to dawn on me that things here are almost over, that I should start saying goodbyes and going to all my favorite places one last time. It's a strange feeling, and one that I don't particularly care to dwell on right now.

A couple weeks ago, a girl I met found out I had studied art and graphic design at school, and immediately asked me if I wanted to "make design" for a bread delivery van. My rule of thumb here has been "Never say no unless you have already planned something" - so I said yes of course, I'd be happy to. For about three days I forgot about it, and then one day Mori called me and said "my sister says 'hurry up with the design.'" Mori's sister works at the same place as the design requesting girl, and suddenly I went from no deadline to pushy clients contacting me to ask where the design was. I got to work on some ideas, and with a little advice from Mori, we hatched a plan to paint the car. Supplies were bought, sketches made, and last Saturday we got to work on the car.


Getting started. Mori and his sister, Hiroko, after we set the car up for painting.


We ended up doing the whole thing with tape stencils and spray paint. I'll let you be the judge of how it came out in the end. After the sunburn I got the day before diving, I was not taking any chances - straw hat for me.


It was unbelievably hot, but at least we had some shade.


While I did the front, Mori did the moji - writing - for the side.



In the Nakamura household it was time to put the futons out in the sun to air - and of course the dog comes too. Thank you to Hiroko for taking this picture, and most of the others for this day.






The bread, almost done. They had asked me for an image evocative of islands and bread, so I gave them that pretty literally.


And then it was done. Hiroko and I stood back from it and were sort of at a loss for words. We couldn't decide if it was cute, funny, or silly, bad or good, ugly or nice, it was just done. Mori's mother stepped out of the fish shop and said "wow, that bread is flying!" And so it was. Ladies and gentlemen, I have painted giant flying bread on the hood of a new Suzuki van.


Mori didn't' finish that night, so I have yet to see the finished writing.
I'll post a picture when I do.

The second half of the weekend was more photogenic. On Sunday Mori and The Circus were planning to officially open the new half pipe with a barbeque, skating, and hanging out. As an honorary Circus member, I was invited along. It was a beautiful day, blue skies, hot and sunny, with the cicadas in the background and music playing. I sat on a beach chair and had some barbeque.




Japanese Barbequeues - not exactly like the ones back home. I told Mori that we usually make hot dogs and hamburgers and he didn't believe me. One of his friends said "No no, it's true, I saw it on TV! They even grill bread!" - and then no one believed that. I had my strips of pork, grilled cabbage, and grilled noodles and enjoyed the barbeque, Japanese style.

Of course this party was to celebrate the opening of the new ramp, so there was a lot of skating, and quite a bit of falling, as everyone was on their sixth or seventh beer.




Only Mori can pull off skateboarding on a half pipe in old sandals, and a straw hat while smoking a cigarette and wearing my sunglasses.



I really like this picture. Is that vain? I like a few pictures in this series, so there.


Takenobu.

Mori was at my house tonight and we were looking at these pictures. When this one came up, he said "Recently, Takenobu has been looking so cool." I said just wait until you see the next one.


Takenobu took a pretty big spill right in front of me, and when I was looking at the photos that night, I realized that I had gotten the picture right at the instant the he clenched every muscle in his body to brace for impact - and as a result he looks incredibly buff here. This is not what he usually looks like. Mori saw this picture and couldn't stop laughing.

I'm going to finish off with my three favorite pictures from the day. I could point out what I like about each one, but I hope you'll be able to see why I like these without my help.







So Wednesday is the next blog, but Wednesday is also the day that the first new teacher arrives. We'll see, maybe a little update.